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“Vale? Are you all right?” Harlen’s words were mud in my ears.

Gritting my teeth, I looked over my shoulder. Cypherion’s focus was not on the fight—it was on me.

Long enough that a fist struck his bruised ribs, sending him back to the floor. Hot tears snuck down my cheeks.

“Harlen,” I hissed, ignoring the reluctance tugging at my mind. “Take me somewhere private.”

Chapter Eight

Cypherion

Where in the damned Spirits was she going?

Ledger’s fist slammed into the side of my head again, ringing through my skull.

Shit. Shouldn’t have let myself get distracted.

My hand throbbed from when he crushed it, but he hadn’t dug his boot in fully, so that was healing at least.

Fucking Angels, he was strong. A worthy opponent. Despite that, I kept an eye on Vale. My chest twisted as that man’s arm wrapped possessively around her waist, and she leaned into him.

Where was he taking her?

Who—

A fist to my gut sent me stumbling, the rope border of the ring burning my back as I slid against it. Cheers swarmed me, hands jostling my body as I righted myself. They hadn’t placed their bets on me, but it didn’t matter. They just wanted a good show.

I didn’t care about any of their damn gambling sheets. Only one mattered.

The one she signed.

As I reset my stance, I fought to keep my attention on Ledger and scan the ring at the same time.

Vale was gone. Disappeared into the mess of hungry, drunken Starsearchers. Anger poured through me at the realization, and I charged forward, landing two consecutive hits so quickly, my opponent couldn’t block. A fast, distracting jab to open his defenses, followed by a solid cross that had my injured hand ringing in pain.

A simple combination—so simple he didn’t expect it. It was well-placed and disorienting.

I kept up the pace while I had the advantage.

Warrior fighting rings were brutal. They had to be in order to knock a participant down long enough to declare a winner. With our quick healing, any small injury was easy to ignore. My shoulder the Starsearcher had nearly wrenched out of place was proof of that.

Thank the Spirits he didn’t dislocate it entirely. That would have been impossible to fight through, arm useless at my side. The constant beat of pain it currently held motivated me to swing again, straight to his cheekbone.

Before he could recover, I assessed him. Saw right through those demons lying beneath the surface. Things gathered in the recent war.

I catalogued his weaknesses as I would any opponent on any battlefield. The bruise blooming across his ribs and eye swelling shut were good targets to batter before they could heal. A small smirk graced his lips despite the blood trickling from one corner.

“What are you smiling at, Starsearcher?” I growled.

Wiping the blood from his chin, Ledger said, “You’re a smart fighter, I’ll admit.”

Then, he charged. And he was everywhere. I’d never fought someone like him. Someone who seemed to predict my movements before?—

He nailed me right in the jaw.

“Oh, on Damien’s fucking grave,” I cursed, spitting blood to the dirt and dancing out of his reach.

Ducking his next swing, I found Ledger’s stare. Glassy. Not fully dazed, but not completely focused either. One mental eye on the Fates, one on me.