Page 27 of Cursed Lifeline

She’s an addictive misfortune I’ve only just learned I’m destined to one day covet, no matter how hard we both try to fight it.

Ten

Viktor

Song: You’ve created a monster | Bohnes

My neck cracksfrom side to side as I pound my right fist into my left palm and approach the crowd. Fire in my veins, bitterness weighing down my heart, I pull my shirt over my head and discard it to my right as the crowd parts and the ringleader's eyes turn and violently lock on mine.

"We've been waiting for two hours," he hisses as I take the ring and face my opponent.

A mortal whose eyes fill with fear when he realizes he'll be squaring off against the undead tonight.

"Couldn't be helped," I grin, bouncing back and forth on the balls of my feet as I prepare for the ring of the bell.

The ringleader nods at a man across the way, signaling we're ready. "Next time, bring a better excuse or…"

"Or what?" I snap as my gaze viciously swings back his way.

The bell sounds as I hold his enraged stare. My opponent approaches out of the corner of my eye.

"Or nothing," I grin. "We both know you need my winnings just as bad as I need to unleash."

My attention swings my contender's way just as he takes his final step toward me. Fighting stance taken, fists raised, my attacker grins thinking he's succeeded in the element of surprise. But mortals will never win against the speed of an immortal's strength.

Punching him on the right side of his jaw, he staggers back a step and tries to swing at me with his left. Jabbing him once in the nose, blood squirts against my knuckles, and I hold my breath.

"Even if you do have a point," the ringleader hisses, as I dodge a right blow to my face. "If you're late again, I'll ensure you meet that point at the end of a long stake."

I toss him a warning glare over my shoulder as he slips away into the crowd. My attacker charges towards me, and I duck out of his way into the center of the ring. The crowd cheers, and I grin, needing the buildup of their hoots and hollers and the cathartic release of my hands tearing apart flesh.

My opponent swings for me. I dodge his forceful blow with ease, and he staggers a step to his right. When he rights himself, I quickly punch him in the throat. He chokes on blood and buckles over at the hip. Rolling my eyes, I take a step toward him, grab him around the torso, swing him up in the air, and topple his sorry ass to the floor.

He hits the ground with an irritating thud that has me pacing his writhing form in annoyance.

"Get up," I shout as my eyes lift and find the ringleaders.

I have half a mind to stop this madness and take his ass into his ring instead. He set up an unfair fight. This mortal isn't worth the energy I've expended, and by the looks the ringleader's eyes, he knows it, too. He grins, and I shake my head, thinking of all the ways I'll make him pay for rigging this fight to teach my tardy ass a lesson.

"I said," I growl, leaning down and pulling the man up by his hair. "Get. The. Fuck. Up."

Yanking him to his feet, I unleash the beast within, intent on taking out my aggression on the fool for a brother I can't stop and a coven I fear losing.

Pow.

My right fist connects with his left ribs.

Bam.

My left connects with his right.

"Please," the man begs, "Don't…"

But I'm not listening. And over the shouts of the crowd, I'm not worried about the ringleader hearing his plea, either. Instead, I continue to take vengeance out on the unsuspecting fool and refuse to breathe or look down at his blood that begins to pool at my feet.

Pound after pound, I wail on the sorry bastard.

Felix is an idiot.

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