Page 49

WREN

I couldn’t help the ridiculous, face-cracking smile that stayed etched on my face as we made our way through the crowd, Puck in front of me, and Locke behind.

No more hiding.

And that included no more taking shit from a crew of women who’d never grown out of the high school mean-girl phase. I was done taking cruelty I didn’t deserve. From anyone . And, gods, that felt good.

Puck maneuvered us toward the front row, where the rest of the guys, Juan, Clyde, and Dina were waiting. Ender’s gaze zeroed in on me, his brow furrowing. “She’s smiling. Why is she smiling so big?”

Puck chuckled. “Because she just gave Siena, Dara, and Cressida swirlies in the bathroom.”

Brix’s face scrunched like he’d smelled something bad. “Did you say swirlies?”

“Don’t forget the broken nose and the black eye,” I added cheerfully.

“What. Happened?” Kingston ground out.

I patted his chest. “Don’t worry, alpha man. I’m fine. They tried to start shit. I finished it.”

Clyde held out his fist for a bump. “That’s how we do.”

“Damn straight,” I said, touching my knuckles to his.

Dina sighed and looked at Puck. “Tell me you banned them. I do not want to have to deal with their whiny selves come Monday.”

“Eighty-sixed for life,” Puck promised.

Dina held her hands in the air. “Hallelujah.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my lips. “Happy to be of service.”

Franco moved to the side of the ring, and Clyde ambled up to him. “You ready?” Clyde asked.

Franco jerked his head in a nod, holding his mouth guard in his hand. “Ready.”

There was no carefree amusement in him now. Franco was in the zone. The same couldn’t be said for Juan.

“You got this, beast man. Think about all the pussy you’re gonna get when you demolish his ass.”

Clyde scowled at Juan. “Don’t make me deck you.”

“What? What’d I say?” Juan asked, fighting a grin.

I just shook my head, turning to find my seat. But behind my chair was a man whose neck was as thick as a bodybuilder’s thigh, and his gaze roamed over me in a way that did not give me the warm fuzzies.

“Girl, you look good. After this fight, how ‘bout I take you for a ride?” he said, his tongue running over his lower lip.

I had to fight the urge to gag. But before I could say anything, Brix stepped in front of me, his alpha vibes filling the air. Humans didn’t know what the energy was, but it still affected them. Mostly resulting in piss-your-pants fear.

“How about you find another seat, and I don’t remove your head from your body?” Brix snarled.

The man blanched. “I-I paid triple for the VIP seats.”

Brix bared his teeth at the man. “Move or lose a limb.”

The man scampered, moving quicker than a person his size should be able to.

“B,” I cajoled. “That wasn’t nice.”

Brix let out a chuff that sounded more animal than human. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”

I moved into my protector, pressing my lips to his cheek. “No removing limbs or organs tonight, okay?”

“I can’t make any promises,” Brix grumbled.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the ref said, stepping forward. “The main fight is about to begin.”

Cheers went up, and the buzz of anticipation filled the air. I couldn’t make myself sit. Too many nerves swirled inside me as Franco stepped into the center of the ring. His opponent let out a snarl that almost seemed wolf-like, even though I knew Gabe Jackson had no shifter blood.

The ref glanced at both men. “I want a good, clean fight. Touch gloves, then back to your corners.”

Franco’s expression was blank as Gabe snarled and spittle flew. But the men touched gloves and retreated. A second later, the bell sounded.

Gabe didn’t wait. He attempted to use the element of surprise and take Franco to the mat. I understood why. Gabe was known for his grappling skills. If he could get Franco on the ground, his chances of winning were much greater.

But Franco had the speed. Those hours of running with weighted vests and jumping rope in the gym paid off as he easily dodged Gabe’s attempt at a takedown.

The two men circled each other, throwing out the occasional testing jab, but no one got a solid hit in. Then Gabe surprised Franco with a hook to the jaw. Franco blocked some of it, but Gabe’s fist still connected.

The crowd roared with a combination of boos and cheers.

“Come on, Franco,” I yelled. “Guard up. Make him play your game.”

Franco rolled to the balls of his feet, leaning forward and making Gabe think he was going for a jab. But then Franco used that speed he’d trained for, ducked low, and threw an uppercut to the ribs instead.

Gabe stumbled back a step, and Franco followed up with a hook to the jaw. The crowd went wild as the judges scrawled down marks on their score sheets.

But Gabe wasn’t done. He let out a roar and sent a one-two combo into Franco’s face.

I cursed as Franco nearly lost his footing, blood streaming from his nose. “You’ve got this, Franco. Take him down!”

Franco let the force of the blow tip him sideways but used the energy to pull off a side kick that landed squarely in Gabe’s ribs. He crumpled, bending forward and trying to suck in a breath. But he used that energy, too, diving for Franco’s legs.

The two men hit the mat with deafening force, and I couldn’t breathe. My hands fisted, knowing this was exactly what Gabe had wanted: a grappling match where he could dominate.

Except Franco was quick. He grabbed Gabe’s head in a guillotine choke hold, making the man’s face turn bright red as he tried to wriggle out of it. He threw punch after punch into Franco’s side.

But Franco didn’t budge. He wrapped his legs around Gabe, strangling his whole body.

Gabe started to weaken but didn’t make any move to give up.

His coach yelled orders ringside, but the man showed no signs of listening. “Tap the fuck out,” the coach screamed.

Gabe didn’t give the two touches required to do so. Franco held steady until Gabe’s entire body went limp. The ref moved in as fast as lightning, slicing his hands through the air. “TKO!”

The crowd erupted. I jumped up, King catching me as we all screamed for our friend and his victory.

Gabe slowly came around and was able to stand, scowling as the ref lifted Franco’s hand in the air.

We hooted and hollered, and I didn’t think I’d ever felt happier than in that moment. It was more than winning. It was knowing everything Franco had put into the bout. Being a part of that journey with the men I loved. And getting to do this life together.