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I punched out, spun, dodging almost every one of Finnick’s blows. A few hit me on my arms, but glanced off. I didn’t even feel them. I’d been hurt a lot worse, a lot more often.
I returned the jabs and strikes, more of mine connecting than Finn was ready for, and he actually stumbled. I could see the moment when he decided to commit to the fight, to really use his advantages. His size, his strength. Those impossibly long legs, and those arms, honed and tight.
He’d spent a hell of a lot of time in some dojo or academy, getting every one of his kicks and punches perfect. But I’d spent years being beaten by the ones who were supposed to protect me. I let out a howl of rage, letting my anger fill me and fly out.
It happened again, then. I lost time. I blinked, and suddenly, I was connecting a hit to Finnick’s temple. I blinked again, and I was the one being thrown back against the ropes.
Another blink, and he was down on one knee, blood pouring from the corner of his mouth. But my fists were still flying, my torso bending to dodge his returned strikes, and I was going for targets Del had taught me—not just the knee, but the testicles. Not just the temple, but the eyes and the nose.
I might break his nose and drive the bone into his brain. I didn’t care. Even a shifter had a hard time healing from that.
“Stop! Stop, Wills!” Finn managed to shout.
Stop? Why? Hell no!
I went for him, wrapping my legs around him and turning him in a jiu-jitsu move so that I was under him, then on top, then holding his face against the ground, his arm twisted at an impossible angle. We both heard the unmistakable pop of his elbow dislocating.
“Yield!” I demanded. He didn’t, so I smashed his head into the ground again. I could snap his neck at this angle. “Yield before I break your damned neck.”
“I yield,” he croaked out.
I stood, swaying. The entire crowd was silent. I held out a bloody hand; it looked like I was bleeding from scratches and cuts all over. Finnick had bled, too, though. I’d clocked him hard enough to make his ear bleed. I squinted. Both ears.
“Good fight,” I said. “You were right. That was fun.”
Finnick flopped over, staring at me like I was his worst nightmare and an unsolvable equation combined. “You… You won.”
“Um yeah, asshole. That’s how fights work.” I had won, and I could get my bid now.
I kept my hand out, wondering what he was doing. Sure, I’d hurt him, but he was a mature shifter. A powerful one. He should have been healing by now.
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” I hissed, leaning down to grab his good elbow. He recoiled from my touch, then whimpered when the movement jarred his other arm. Ugh, I hadn’t meant to hurt him that badly. “Why aren’t you healing? You need me to pop it back in place or something?” I didn’t know much about shifter healing since I’d never shifted, but I knew that dislocated anything had to be popped back in.
The announcer was heading our way, inching over like he wasn’t sure the fight was done. Finnick’s eyes looked weird, like he couldn’t focus. “You weren’t supposed to win.”
I let out a sigh. “Listen, I didn’t want to fight you. I’m sorry I got carried away. We cool?”
But he had passed out.
The next second, the announcer had my hand in his lifted over my head, practically hauling me off the ground. Two other shifters took the moment to race in and hustle Finnick’s limp body out of the ring, a pack doctor already examining him.
“The first ever unranked winner of an exhibition match… is Will L. Rains, from Southern pack!”
Nobody clapped. I darted a look at the Alpha. He wasn’t here. And neither was Brand. And… Oh shit.
Neither was Glen.
Where the hell was Glen? I needed him to bid on me for his pack. The only Heir left was… Luke.
“Shifter Rains, since you took the victory against the Alpha Heir, you will move directly to the semi-finals round tomorrow night. Congratulations.”
“Wait, I don’t want to fight again. Or… maybe I can fight someone else now?”
“What? No. That’s not how it works. You’ll need to return tomorrow night to fight.” His brow furrowed. “Technically, the Alpha Heir should be fighting again tonight, as the loser. But he’s knocked out.”
I felt like I might pass out. “You don’t understand. I can’t wait. I need… I want a pack bid.”
The announcer’s eyes narrowed. Asking for a pack bid was the same as announcing you wanted a new Alpha. “Boy?”
