Page 69 of The Enemy to the Living
I want to ask what bargain she made—if she had to make a bargain at all—but I know better than that. A loud cheer goes upfrom the other room and I drag my T-shirt over my head, almost tearing it in my haste to get it off.
The troll follows me out of the room, both of us waiting by the cage until the selkie in there is dragged out and the kelpie points for me to go in. She seems wary when she looks at me, too, and I remember her signalling for the fight to end last time.
I dart an unwilling glance to the shadowed booth where the twins always sit. Sure enough, the two burly trolls are there, and I feel gazes on me from within.
Great. Fucking great.
The first round goes well enough. I’m antsy and nervous, but that just makes each hit harder, all my senses on high alert. The fae goes down with a muttered curse and stumbles to his feet when the kelpie tells him it’s time to go.
The troll who was in the back room with me is up next. For a brief moment, when we’re first facing off against each other, cold sweat drips down my spine. The trolls the other night were bigger than even him, and he’s already massive. He gives me a fierce grin that shows all his pointed little teeth before the kelpie calls the start of the match.
Some of my nerves dissipate. He fights a lot like I do—strength rather than speed—but he seems to want to put on a show, and I’m happy to go along with that.
Hell, if it means it’ll keep the twins off my back tonight, I’ll go along with whatever.
The crowd seems to like it well enough. He tackles me to the ground, where we grapple, each of us taking turns to gain the upper hand. I roll and straddle his hips, and the cheers and boos are interspersed with whistles, making him laugh.
I climb off him and settle in to finish it. He sees the resolve on my face, his own expression hardening, pointed ears twitching. Muscles flex and I know that when I hit him, it’s going to hurt.Trolls have a way of doing that, able to absorb harder hits than a lot of the other fae.
I hit him all the same. Pain judders up my arm to my shoulder, but I follow it up with another swinging punch that has him stumbling back against the cage wall. The boos are louder than the cheers now, and I growl, anger stirring in my chest. I don’t want to lose. They want me to, though, because I lost last time, didn’t I?
The twins made it clear that they don’t like me. The smart fae in this room are showing their loyalty.
I’m not one for giving up that easily. All I bargained was showing up for ten fights, not like Bryn, but I don’t really know how these deals work; that’s becoming painfully obvious. If I don’t do a good job—just show up but don’t try any harder than that—then they might find some other way to punish me.
They might find some other way to take my wolf.
The troll catches me with an uppercut to the chin, snapping my head back, and I growl and spin away when he goes in to grab me again. We circle each other slowly. Blood thumps in my ears, drowning out the noise from the crowd.
For a second—just one—I feel my wolf again. He stirs, stretches, taking in our prey with a glance and a snap of his teeth.
And then he’s gone again.
I falter but don’t stumble. The troll comes at me, and I duck low, taking him down to the ground. Hands rattle the cage, fae jostling to see as I punch him in the stomach, then the chest.
He groans and taps out, but only when the kelpie opens the cage door do I climb off him and retreat to the other side. “Fuck,” he mutters, hauling himself to his feet.
He waves and smiles—well, grimaces—as he climbs out, and I huff to myself. Maybe he’s just here for the fun of it.
The selkie, Hel, is up next. I push off from the edge of the cage, swallowing hard as she drops her seal skin just behind her. All the selkies do that. I know better than to get too close to it, too—one of the fae did that by accident and the selkie he was fighting almost tore his throat out.
We circle each other. She’s going to be fast. Her claws are already out, and she keeps her stance low.
She’s been watching the other fights, I think, because she moves when I’m least expecting it, claws raking down my side. I hiss and jerk away, blood already marking a hot trail down my skin.
Fuck, she’s quick. I hit her once, sending her back against the cage bars, but then she grazes me again, and the third time, she digs her claws in deep. Blood drips from the wounds and when I sway slightly, her eyes darken.
The claws are gone now as she moves to blows and sends me sprawling. I groan, air knocked out of my lungs as my back hits the ground. Fucking hell. She hits me again, but I’m already done.
“And we have our winner,” the kelpie cries.
The selkie steps back, arms raised in the air in victory, and I groan again as I get to my feet.
Nine turns in the cage. Well, eight, plus the so-called freebie I got the night the twins took Bryn’s wolf.
Just one more, and I’m free of this place.
I drag myself into the back room, where the troll is sitting on one of the benches. He grins when he sees me.
