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The well was deep. She hadn’t known, hadn’t thought there was an entire industry flourishing on the business of death.
“So why do you still fight?” She looked to Alpha, trying to understand why he would risk himself like that every time when he wasn’t forced by someone to do it.
He shrugged a broad shoulder. “I got my reputation with street fights growing up. And occasionally I have to step in the ring to send a message.” He gave her a heavy look with one eye. “Not to fuck with me or what’s mine.”
If he was trying to distract her, it was working.
She shook off the last line and the meaning behind it, keeping track of the conversation. “That’s why you were in the ring the other nights? Or were you avoiding me and fighting?”
From the way his back tensed, she knew it was the latter.
She sighed. “At least you won’t have to go back to the death ring again.”
His pause made her heart skip a beat and not in a good way. "What?"
“I have to go into the ring. One more time for the tournament.”
Lead infused her veins. “What? Why?”
“Because I’ve already fought and won,” Alpha chucked her chin lightly, talking as casually about going to fight to the death as she talked about her hair. “Reneging now will send a wrong message.”
“But—”
His grip on her chin tightened. “That’s the way my world works, Zephyr. The message you send is the man you are. I might be your husband in here but out there? I am the Alpha. So, I’m going to fight in that ring, and you, my dear wife, are going to sit in the front like last time and cheer for me, and show everyone that you may be small, but you’re not weak.”
Zephyr stared up at him, her heart pounding, and looked away to find the Ravager watching them. If what Alpha said was true, he’d be fighting the killing machine soon, and she'd have to watch it all.
