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JACK
Beatrice had been gone a week,and it felt longer than the ten years we’d been kept apart, but all that would end today.
“This is the last public fight I take part in,” I ground out as Pax and I made our way through the rowdy crowd. Our carriage had been caught in traffic, meaning we were late and the masses were restless for the wait.
“Naturally,” Pax purred and gave my arm a quick squeeze. An alpha purring for me, and, like a cat who’d been hissing and spitting a few seconds before, I rolled belly up and luxuriated in his attention.
“Naturally,” I intoned. I noticed a few omegas in the crowd, hemmed in by their packs. The Mountviews were present, seated with Dalzell’s sister in the middle. He was there as well, chatting with another onlooker. Everyone so relaxed or at most anticipatory for what was to come.
Meanwhile, I wanted the mess over with.
I pushed through to where Drexler lounged against the platform Puck and I were to fight on.
“Good day to you Fordom.” As was his usual, he wore all black, but today a deep red carnation was pinned to his coat.
“Lover’s favour?” I asked.
“The Turkish ascribe the Prophet Mohammed to the carnation,” he said, eyes scanning the crowd. “But by any reckoning, I am an infidel. This… This is a reminder.”
“You are as closed-mouthed as Polly,” I remarked. Our little conversation acted as a weak distraction for what was to come. “You’ve seen her recently?” I dared to ask, hoping for any connection to Beatrice.
“In my line of work, the Faerie Queene is… well, Queen.”
“Shakesperia had Hippolyta as Queen of the Amazons.”
“I’ve no knowledge of your home-grown poets. But the Hippolyta I know—”
“Can we get started?” Puck interrupted before Drexler could finish. I regretted it, for I wanted to know his thoughts on Polly, because hearing of her was akin to hearing about Beatrice. My mate, no doubt bored and anxious to be home… Goddess, I hoped that being the case for this last week without her had stretched out longer than our ten-year separation. “Colonel?”
“Of course.”
“Where is Paxton?” Puck asked. There was a dissatisfied twist to his face as if nothing had gone his way today.
“In the stands.” I lifted my chin to where he sat with Dalzell and the Mountviews. Both alphas were watching us closely.
“Not panting at your side…”
“Don’t—”
“You can flirt later. Let’s get this fight started.” Drexler growled. “I need to have the monks sweep the crowd.”
I growled. “Very well.”
Whatever devil had caught me had caught Puck as well. He seemed to float about the ring, but at the slightest opening came in with a sharp jab. I was as good. My fists seeming to fly of their own accord. And this time, none pulled us apart. We kept a bruising pace, jeered or cheered by the crowd as the balance shifted back and forth.
I dodged a vicious upper cut and sprung away, circling once again.
“End it!” Drexler’s bark cut through the fog of violence and exhaustion. As one, Puck and I dropped our fists. Our sides heaved like bellows, hands on our knees barely propping us up, and sweat dripping from every pore.
“Not here, is he?” Puck panted. He seemed to unroll his body until he stood at his full height. It would be a fool who didn’t notice how he swayed or the way a beta rushed in to prop him up. “Oberon will be furious. There is more at stake than your petty revenge.”
I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t born yesterday. We knew Drexler had his own reasons. That our desire to be rid of Stimpson was only a part of his motivations if he was willing to put so much effort into this spectacle.
“Well gentlemen!” Cried the beta who’d been acting as commentator on the match. “Do we go another round?”
The crowd roared. Disappointed that neither one of us had managed to land a final strike.
“Too well matched!” A voice cried out.
