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“Begin,” the Viper Queen intoned.
Flynn, Dec, and Tharion stood at the sidelines, barely containing their rage.
Tharion had been right. He’d been so fucking stupid to tangle with the Viper Queen like this, to think it’d be as easy as bloodying himself, maybe getting a few burns—
And now Ariadne had been traded away because of it, too. He barely knew the dragon, yet that was also his burden to carry.
“I said begin,” the Viper Queen snapped.
Ithan met Sigrid’s light brown gaze.
Alpha. Fendyr. Prime. That’s what he was taking on. All that he’d bowed to, stood for—
Ithan didn’t let himself think. Didn’t broadcast his moves. He launched himself at her before he could back away from this precipice.
He swung a punch for Sigrid’s face and she lunged aside with surprising speed. An Alpha’s speed.
Ithan struck again, and she ducked once more, all instinct.
Sigrid leapt—a swipe of claw-tipped hands.
Shock blasted through Ithan at the sight of those claws, so readily drawn. He stood rooted to the floor—a second too long.
She slashed across his ribs, sharp pain blasting like acid through him—
He bounced away to the sound of Flynn cursing. Ithan pushed a hand to his side. Warm blood leaked over his fingers.
Something sharpened in him. Steadied him. They were doing this: wolf to wolf. Alpha to … whatever he was. A wolf without a pack.
Ithan lunged again, reaching low—
His fist collided with Sigrid’s soft belly, but she didn’t go down. She twisted, elbow slamming directly into his nose. It wasn’t an elegant maneuver, but it was a smart one. Bone crunched, blood spurted, and then claws were raking at his face—
He staggered back again. She’d gone for his fucking eyes. Ithan tackled her, throwing her to the floor.
“Holstrom!” Tharion shouted, and he couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a reprimand, but there was no time to think about it as Sigrid’s claws punched through his shoulder. Ithan reared back, roaring, wrenching her claws free.
She brought her legs up and kicked. Ithan grabbed her ankles, but too slow. Her feet connected with his gut, and then he was soaring back, back—
He hit the other side of the ring with a thud that echoed through his very bones.
* * *
Mired in shame, Tharion watched the bloodbath unfold before him.
He deserved to be here, in this place, with the Viper Queen. He didn’t deserve to be freed, to be fought for.
Ariadne. Her name clanged through him. Sold—or traded, whatever the fuck that meant. Because of him. Because of what he’d said to her, apparently.
Everything he touched turned to shit.
“This isn’t going to end well,” Flynn murmured. “Even if Ithan wins …” Whatever state Sigrid would be in, they wouldn’t be able to leave tonight.
Yet even through his shame, Tharion had to admit that she was fighting better than he’d expected. Sloppy and untrained, yes, but she was giving as good as she got. Holding her own.
She and Ithan rolled on the floor, claws out, blood spraying—
Ithan took a hit to the jaw, lacerating his skin. Sigrid seemed inclined to rip him to shreds.
