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Jett’s empty.
No one behind those eyes.
It’s not the way Finn goes empty, where he’s still and silent and plotting mass murder.
Jett looks like he’s been erased.
But no matter how he tries to disappear, I see him because I’ve been there. Maybe that’s why I climbed inside a barrel instead of asking for help.
Because when you hurt and you hurt and you hurt, disappearing is better than feeling.
That’s why I want to hammer the banshee who started this shitshow.
Atlas’s growl rumbles through me like it’s my own.
“I challenge Renee,” I repeat.
She tries to fade into the crowd, but Finn cuts off her path. Then Hunter appears, and her alpha escorts duck and fucking run from their blood-soaked smiles.
Hunter’s growl is soul-tearing with rage that stops the woman from escaping, moving, or doing anything but shaking.
“Accept the challenge,” Hunter snarls.
“Ridiculous.” She clutches her purse. “I’m leaving.”
“Do you want me or do you want him?” I point to Finn, who proudly holds the knife still wet with his father’s blood.
Her lower lip trembles.
But Renee doesn’t cave.
“Then prison?” I offer. “You know what they’ll do to you in there when they find out what you—”
“I accept,” her voice quavers with Hunter and Finn hovering at her shoulders like devils, but there’s a flash of that old rich girl hatred in her eyes.
She glares like she’s already punching the shit out of me. When she reaches the octagon, Hikaru opens the cage.
His skin-peeling sneer obliterates whatever confidence Renee gathered when she thought I was her only problem.
No one knew.
Last I heard, Renee was fired for embezzling from the center. Now her real fucking rap sheet is coming to light.
Both Wyvern packs follow her quaking motion with the murderous confidence of cats tracking a cockroach.
They will end her.
But I get to play first.
Jett’s on his feet, but not really here. “Bring him a seat?”
Atlas sets me down and ducks out of the cage to grab a folding chair. Together, we sit Jett in my corner. Atlas moves behind the chair, putting his hands on Jett’s shoulders to share the same reassurance he lent to me.
“Watch.” I tug Jett’s chin. “This is for both of us.” I strip off Orion’s hoodie and set it in his hands.
Jett hugs the fabric, and when he breathes in my scent, there’s a little glitter in his eyes.
The crowd, the guys, the cage—all of it fades when I step to Renee at the center of the ring.
