ASHER
The combat arena was packed and filled with students.
I stood in the tunnel leading to the ring, trying to control my breathing, trying to ignore the roar of the crowd. It felt like the entire Academy had turned out to watch this, to watch get destroyed by him.
An instructor, a grizzled older Alpha with scars crisscrossing his face, appeared beside .
"You’re Graham?" he asked, and I nodded.
"Na’s Coach Maddox. I oversee combat training." He looked up and down, his expression unreadable. "You know what you’re getting into, kid?"
"Yeah," I said. "I know."
"Reed Jackson is one of the best fighters we’ve ever had at Stone Claw. He’s fast, he’s strong, and he fights dirty when he needs to." Coach Maddox’s eyes were hard. "I’ve seen him put students in the hospital. Hell, I’ve seen him put students in the morgue."
My stomach dropped. "You’re trying to scare ?" I asked him and he shook his head.
"I’m trying to give you a reality check." He stepped closer. "If you want to forfeit, now’s the ti. No sha in it. You’re new, and you didn’t know the hierarchy. Reed might even respect you for knowing when you’re outmatched."
I thought about it. I really did think about it, but then I rembered the way Reed had grabbed my throat yesterday. The way he’d smiled when he threatened , the way he treated Scott like property, and the worst was the way he made my body tremble and yearn for him.
"No," I said. "I’m fighting."
Coach Maddox studied for a long mont. Then he nodded slowly. "Your funeral, kid. Rules are simple: fight until one of you can’t continue or submits. No weapons, no killing blows, intentional ones, anyway. Everything else is fair ga."
"Got it."
"One more thing." His voice dropped. "If you sohow, and I an sohow manage to land a good hit on Reed? Run, don’t stand there and gloat, and don’t wait for applause just run, because he will co at you twice as hard."
"Noted."
Coach Maddox clapped on the shoulder really hard enough to make stumble, and walked away.
I took a deep breath and stepped out into the arena. The noise hit like a physical wave. Hundreds of students packed the stands, all of them screaming, jeering, placing bets on how long I’d last. The combat ring itself was a large circle of packed dirt, surrounded by a chain-link fence, and standing in the center, waiting for , was Reed Jackson.
He looked like a god of war, he was shirtless, his muscular torso on full display, tattoos snaking up his arms, his charcoal gray eyes locked on with an intensity that made my breath catch. He was bigger than I rembered, more imposing, radiating raw power and barely leashed violence.
The crowd went wild when they saw him. "REED! REED! REED!" Which made feel like a loser already.
I walked to the center of the ring, forcing myself not to show fear. Reed watched approach, that cold smile playing on his lips.
"You actually showed up," Reed said when I was close enough to hear. "I’m impressed. I thought you might run."
"Disappointed?" I shot back.
His smile widened. "Not at all. I’m going to enjoy this."
Coach Maddox stood between us, raising his hands for silence. The crowd imdiately went silent.
"Standard combat rules apply," he announced. "Fight until submission or incapacitation. Keep it clean... mostly." So people in the crowd laughed. "Fighters, shake hands."
Reed extended his hand, and I stared at it for a mont, then took it. His grip was crushing. He squeezed hard enough to make my bones creak, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Last chance to back down, princess," Reed murmured, so quietly only I could hear. "Apologize now, and I’ll only break one bone."
I squeezed back as hard as I could which probably felt like nothing to him, and leaned in close.
"Fuck you," I whispered.
Reed’s eyes flashed with sothing dark and hungry. "Oh, I will," he promised. "After I break you."
We released our hands and stepped back.
Coach Maddox looked between us, shook his head, and raised his arm.
"Fight!"
Reed moved like lightning, I had barely had ti to raise my guard before his fist connected with my ribs. The impact drove the air from my lungs and sent stumbling backward. Pain exploded across my side.
Goddess, he hits like a truck, and the crowd roared.
Reed didn’t give ti to recover. He ca at again, a blur of motion, and I did the only thing I could, I dodged.
I might not be as strong as him, but I was fast. Faster than he expected.
His next punch missed by inches. I ducked under his guard and landed a quick jab to his stomach. It was like punching a brick wall, but Reed’s eyes widened slightly.
He had thought I was a loser who wouldn’t be able to make a hit and I surprised him by landing a hit, and the crowd gasped that I’d landed a hit on Reed Jackson.
For about half a second, I felt victorious.
Then Reed smiled, all teeth and violence, and said, "My turn."
He grabbed by the throat and lifted off the ground. I clawed at his hand, gasping for air, my feet dangling uselessly. The world started to gray out at the edges.
Then Reed slamd into the dirt, the impact knocked every bit of air from my lungs. Stars exploded across my vision, and I tasted blood.
"Get up," Reed growled. "We’re just getting started."
I rolled onto my hands and knees, coughing, and trying to breathe. My ribs scread in protest.
Get up. You have to get up.
I staggered to my feet just as Reed’s fist connected with my face, my head snapped back. Blood sprayed from my nose, and I went down hard.
The crowd was going insane.
"REED! REED! REED!"
Through the haze of pain, I heard Coach Maddox’s voice: "Graham! Stay down or get up and fight!"
I chose to fight. I pushed myself up again, spitting blood, and raised my fists.
Reed looked... impressed? No, that couldn’t be right.
"You’ve got heart," he said, circling like a predator. "I’ll give you that."
"Go to hell," I managed to say through my split lip.
"After you."
He ca at again. This ti, I was ready. Sort of. I used my speed, ducking and weaving, landing quick strikes where I could.
They didn’t do much damage, but they kept Reed from getting a solid grip on .
For about thirty seconds, I actually held my own, then Reed caught my wrist mid-punch.
"Enough playing," he said.
He twisted my arm behind my back and drove face-first into the dirt. His knee pressed between my shoulder blades, pinning down. His weight was crushing, and I struggled, but it was useless. He was too strong.
"Submit," Reed commanded, his voice low and dangerous in my ear.
"No," I gasped.
His knee pressed harder, and pain shot down my spine.
"Submit, Asher."
"Fuck. You." I grunted, still trying to break myself free.
The crowd was screaming, but I could barely hear them over the roaring in my ears.
Reed leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "You feel that? You’re helpless. Completely at my rcy. All you have to do is say the word, and this ends."
I could feel him pressed against , I could feel the heat of his body, the power in his muscles, and the way his breath ca faster. I could feel that he was hard, and he’s getting off on this.
Sothing inside snapped, I bucked wildly, throwing him off balance just enough to twist out from under him. I scrambled away, putting distance between us.
Reed stood slowly, his eyes dark and hungry.
"Impressive," he said. "But it’s over."
He rushed , I tried to dodge, but I was too slow, too tired, and too hurt. Reed’s shoulder caught in the stomach, driving backward into the chain-link fence. The tal dug into my back. Reed’s hands pinned my wrists above my head.
We were pressed together, chest to chest, both breathing hard. His eyes bored into mine.
"Submit," he said again, I could feel his erection pressed against my hip, I could see the way his pupils were dilated, the way his nostrils flared as he breathed in my scent, and Goddess help , my body was responding.
Despite the pain, despite the humiliation, and despite everything, I was getting hard.
"Never," I whispered.
Sothing shifted in Reed’s expression., sothing almost like respect, then his knee ca up, catching in the stomach. I doubled over, gasping, and Reed released my wrists.
I collapsed to my knees, coughing up blood.
The fight was over, I knew it, Reed knew it, and everyone knew it, but before Coach Maddox could call it, Reed crouched down in front of . His hand cupped my chin, forcing to look at him.
"You should have submitted," he said quietly, so only I could hear. "It would have hurt less."
"Worth it," I gasped. "To prove... you can’t break ."
Reed’s eyes flashed with sothing I couldn’t na.
"Oh, Asher," he said softly, almost tenderly. "I’m going to break you. Just not the way you think."
Then he stood and raised his hand in victory.
The crowd erupted, and Coach Maddox was beside imdiately, checking my injuries.
"Can you stand?" He asked, and I nodded, even though every part of scread in protest.
He helped to my feet. The world swayed, but I locked my knees and stayed upright. I wouldn’t give Reed the satisfaction of watching collapse.
As I limped toward the tunnel, I caught Scott’s eye in the crowd. He looked devastated. But there was soone else watching too, Reed.
His eyes followed all the way out of the arena, dark and intense and filled with sothing that looked almost like... hunger, and despite everything, despite the pain, despite the humiliation, despite knowing I’d just lost spectacularly, I couldn’t shake the feeling that sothing had changed between us.
Sothing dangerous, and sothing inevitable.
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