Page 13 of Black Hearted (Cursed Fae #4)

“Aside from the prize money, there are a lot of side bets going on,” he warned. “Everyone saw how large you are while you walked around town today, and a lot of bets were placed on you. If you don’t win, a lot of fae are going to be angry.”

I chuckled. “Trust me. I’m going to win.”

There were clusters of fae loitering around the mouth of the alley—mostly men. They stared and whispered as we passed.

Ducking between an alterations shop and a shoe repair store, we turned the corner to find a long line that snaked further down the alley. We walked to the front of the line, where a burly male stood at a red door, checking tickets before letting anyone enter.

The large fae took one look at Donahue, then at me, and nodded, stepping aside to let us pass. We entered the building and immediately started descending a long set of dark stone steps.

Red-and-black damask wallpaper covered the walls, and a velvet carpet runner lined the center of the stairs. Despite its entrance being in an alleyway, the place was clearly well maintained—likely because it brought in a lot of money for the owners.

“Because you’re new, you’ll have to work your way to the top. Your first few fights will be easy, but after that, you’ll be up against Buttercup’s finest,” Donahue informed me.

“Watch out for Brunok,” Malek said, walking a few steps behind us.

Donahue nodded. “Brunok has been known to break the rules.”

“Break the rules, how?” I asked, wondering if Brunok was the same guy who had tried to shatter my wrist earlier. Because of that attack, Nellie was back at the inn, lying in pain. If it was Brunok, I’d make sure he paid.

“He likes to use his magic on his opponents,” Donahue replied. “But his magic is concealed, so no one can really tell when he’s doing it.”

That got my attention. “What’s his magic?”

We were nearing the bottom of the long staircase, and the noise of a bustling, lively crowd reached my ears.

“He can heat up your internal organs just enough to make you uncomfortable so you slip up,” Donahue explained. “Not enough that the Enforcer notices.”

Boil my organs? That was definitely something to watch out for.

“The Enforcer?” I asked, unfamiliar with the term.

Donahue nodded. “Judge, announcer, and rule maker all rolled into one. What he says goes down here.”

We reached the base of the stairs, and the space immediately opened into a massive circular room with a high, domed ceiling. At the very top was a circular glass window, perfectly framing the moon.

“What is this place?” I asked.

Donahue’s gaze cut to mine. “Used to be an underground dance hall and tavern. Years ago, one of the former Spring queens got it in her head to outlaw wine and spirits. Fae didn’t take too well to that, so they built this place to have somewhere to enjoy themselves away from prying eyes.

In that sense, it’s still being used for the same purpose today. ”

I scanned the room. There was a giant barred cage in the center of the space with an open top. The sides rose about eight feet— something I could easily scale and jump over if I had to.

Fae of all class levels pushed against the bars, jockeying for a good vantage point. Some were dressed in fine silks and velvet top hats, while others wore rugged clothing half-marred in soot.

There were quite a few females down here, something I hadn’t expected. They were dressed nicely, too. Wives of some of the other attendees? Or just ladies who enjoyed a good brawl?

As I looked around, I noticed that everyone had a red ticket clutched in their hand.

“Their betting cards,” Donahue told me as he strode forward, passing a makeshift bar where drinks were being served.

“I bet a lot of money on you, handsome,” a female fae said as I passed. She held up her red ticket, and I saw my name on it with the words five gold written below. “Make me proud.” She blew me a kiss.

Donahue grinned. “Win tonight, and you can have your pick of the ladies.”

“Not interested. Is that the prize money?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at the ornate box in Malek’s hands as he followed closely behind us.

Donahue raised an eyebrow at me. “Yes.”

“And what about my dagger?” I asked.

“In the box as well,” Donahue said. “And my associate will be heavily guarding both the prize money and the dagger until a winner is declared.”

I looked back at Malek again, and transferring the box to one hand, he raised the other. Razor-sharp icicles ending in deadly points formed on his fingertips, showcasing his magic.

A Winter fae? I wondered. His magic reminded me of Isolde.

“I’m not going to steal it,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “I just have plans after this, and I need to get on the road quickly.”

Donahue nodded just as we reached the door. “Very well. If you win, we will split the winnings, and you can be on your way.”

“When I win,” I corrected him.

Stryker was probably the best among my brothers in hand-to-hand combat. He loved bare-knuckle fights the most, saying it made him feel alive, but I was second to him in skill. Growing up with four brothers—and as an Ethereum lord—I’d learned a thing or two about fighting.

Donahue grinned. “I like that confidence. You’ll need it.”

Opening the door, he motioned for me to enter ahead of him. A few other fighters were sitting on benches, getting their hands wrapped.

A male attendant with shaggy brown hair who looked barely sixteen approached and introduced himself as Bucky.

He smiled at me and his large front two teeth stuck out over his lip, giving me a hint as to how he got his name.

He insisted on wrapping my hands for me, even though I told him it wasn’t necessary.

I was glad I didn’t argue, though—his wrapping technique was excellent.

As Bucky finished my second hand, my gaze flicked over to the other fighters. Their attendants were rubbing oil on their faces so that punches would slide off. The other fighters were at least a head shorter than me and much leaner. I almost felt bad that we’d be paired up.

Bucky was applying oil to my face when a hulking male stepped into the room.

His shaved head sat atop a wide, meaty neck lined with thickly corded veins. He scanned the room until his black-eyed gaze landed on me—and held.

Just then, I felt a rush of heat flood through my body, and my eyes widened.

Is this Brunok? Is he using his power on me? But as soon as I thought it, the heat vanished.

“Brunok!” One of the scrawny fighters ran over to fawn over the larger male, showering him with compliments.

I eyed Brunok. He wasn’t the one who had tried to break my wrist, but there was something decidedly evil in his gaze as he continued to glare at me.

According to my brother Stryker, half of the fight was mental. So, I grinned maniacally back at Brunok and slowly stood.

His expression faltered as I stretched to my full height, my overly cheery grin seeming to unsettle him.

“What’s so funny?” he called out to me.

Bucky finished applying the oil to my face and moved back as I took a step toward Brunok, crossing my arms over my chest. “I think it’s cute that you’re so insecure about fighting that you break the rules and use your power.”

“Did you just call me cute?” Brunok roared and lunged for me, but Donahue, who had been standing off to the side, jumped between us.

“One hit before the fight and you’re disqualified. You know the rules, Brunok. Save the fighting for the ring,” he snapped. Then he glanced over his shoulder at me. “Come on, Zane. You’re up first.”

I laughed then—an evil, unhinged laugh that caused Brunok to shift warily on his feet and look at me like I was sick in the head.

I didn’t enjoy playing this role, but I’d do whatever it took to win.

And a guy who could boil my organs was not someone I wanted to piss off without a plan.

I’d have to take him by surprise and knock him out before he could even throw the first punch.

The only way to do that was to mess with his head first.

“See you soon.” I winked and left the room.

Donahue trailed out after me. “That was either extremely stupid or very smart,” he told me as I made my way through the throng of fae toward the cage in the center of the room.

Inside the cage stood a large, bald fae with bright blue eyes, who I assumed was the Enforcer Donahue had mentioned before.

He had a weathered look to him like he’d lived a rough life and a scar through one of his eyebrows that just narrowly missed his eye.

Next to him was a scrawny little fighter, barely the size of a teenage boy but sporting a full-grown beard.

“I’m hoping for the latter,” I replied to Donahue and stepped into the cage as the amassed crowd roared with excitement.

Win the fights. Get the money.

Heal Nellie. Find Lorelei.

I was on a mission, and I wasn’t going to let anything stand in my way.