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“Red Lyric.”

The captain eyed the excitable men that chanted over and over again, the title of something exciting falling from their mouths.

Something was… off.

“Red Lyric?” He asked the captivated Prince.

Altivar nodded. “A fierce addition to the Blades. No one knows his true identity; just the name he goes by in the Pits. A fascinating one too, if you ask me. I’ve always wondered where the inspiration for it came from. There’s no sponsor for him either.”

“Is that why you dragged me out here? To become his sponsor?” Vexation danced a fine line within him like a tightrope walker on talented toes. Even if money was a limited resource, he didn’t need it. It was an object that wouldn’t last forever, unlike himself.

“No,” Altivar huffed in mirthful amusement that glittered like the gold of his skin. “I have another sort of task in mind for him. Just wait until you see him. I think you’ll knowpreciselywhy I brought you here tonight.”

An announcer stepped into the pit below, raising his hands up high in the air until the talk resided. When silence graced them all and not a single sound could be heard, he addressed them all.The rose petals had stopped falling at last, a few straglers meeting the sand. The single fighter in the arena stopped trying to gain support, lowering his arms until they were flat at his side, next to a long blade at his hip.

“Now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for…” He spun around slowly, speaking to all as he wiggled his eyebrows. “May I present…Red Lyric!”

A holler rose up, followed by others.

The gate shuddered, and someone walked through the dimly lit hallway, into the arena.

West leaned over the crumbling railing, trying to get a better glimpse of the figure that entered the sand pit below. Whatever he expected to see, was not what he laid his eyes on.

Because the man in the ring wastiny.

Not necessarily in height, but in form. Instead of muscles on either bicep, there was lean muscle. His thighs were toned, but not massive like the men before had been. The waist alone was far too thin for a fighter, let alone a male one.

West blinked, trying to adjust his hazy gaze as if he incorrectly saw the figure the first time with expectations already in place, but to no avail. The male still stayed the same. Dressed in leather that had been stained as scarlet as blood that had once run down, with black boots and black gloves, a cowl over his face and head, the mortal completely earned his name as Red Lyric.

But it wasn’t a male.

There, if he looked hard enough, he could see the slight swell of a chest below the tight layers, the curve toherhip and the long lashes that peeked out from pale skin. There was an undeniable grace to the mortal below that could only belong to a girl, even if she looked to be in her late twenties.

A girl, in the Blades of Blood.

“Interesting,” He mumbled more to himself than anyone else. His hand ran along his chin as he continued to study her, his fascination perking up with every breath thefemaledrew. She fisted two long daggers at her sides, as long as her forearms.

But as the tall male across from her didn’t back down, nor did she. West cocked a smirk, unable to help himself. Her surety was dauntless, even if she stood no chance against the human that was taller than her by half a foot. There wasn’t a single ounce of doubt to be seen in the way she held her back as straight as a new bowstring, nor the squaring of her lean shoulders.

Suddenly, West was invested in the fight.

He never thought to find something that tickled his fancy in a place such as this, and yet thereshewas. If he thought men to be brave before, then it was nothing compared to the sheer amount of balls that this girl held at the moment as she stood opposed to the fighter.

The over-observant eyes of the Prince next to him picked up the tidbit of curiosity as it mingled with her utter devotion.

“Seems as if something finally plucked a chord of curiosity for you.” Altivar taunted, slyly winking at him.

“Please tell me that this isn’t why you dragged me out here tonight.” He uttered through gritted teeth, really hoping that the heir wasn’t looking for another place to stick his cock into.

He playfully tsked, as if the captain’s time was immeasurably wasteful. “Then you’re out of luck. Red Lyric is one of the most skilled fighters that I’ve ever seen. I have a task for him that only he can perform.”

“She,” West corrected. “Red Lyric, is ashe.”

Three

Stunned silence fell over the bronzed male as he jerked his chin down into the gore-ridden pit, to scrutinizingly gaze at the feminine figure again. As if he had to confirm his captain’s words for himself. Shock was a good look on the Prince, one that West took immense pleasure in watching unfold.

“But women aren’t allowed to compete. Grimm makes thatabsolutelythe law here. He’d throw any females out if he even so much as scented a whiff of their floral perfumes in the levels, let alone the Blades itself.” Altivar gaped like a codfish, a sight that wasn’t completely lost on West. If anything, he wanted to commission an artist to sketch it so that he’d have it for a permanent keepsake.