Page 60 of Starfall

Elias

Z ade used my distraction to his advantage.

The bastard pummeled my chest with a series of rapid-fire blows that should’ve landed me back on the ground. Ruthless in his approach, the man was fashioned like a honed blade.

My anger, thankfully, turned into a weapon I could use.

Ari hadn’t used her power on Zade, or if she had, it didn’t work. Of this, I was now thoroughly certain.

What had gone wrong? I’d sought her out in the arena, but she had looked just as confused as I felt. Her wide eyes gleamed silver in the light, and her mouth parted as if in shock. I’d seen her use her powers before—with Darren himself, and healing Liv with her tears in the alleyway.

This felt like sabotage.

The bell sounded, the first disastrous round at an end.

While Wyatt tended to me, wiping away the blood dripping into my eyes, I held on to Ari, hoping she knew what to do. Zade would put me in the ground by the next round, but with her magic having failed, there was no way she could simply climb into the arena and try again.

I was so fucked.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed, the roaring crowd drowning out any sound of her voice. She clutched the seat in front of her, likely not noticing that she’d bent the wood with her divine strength. I tried to smile at her, to let her know it was all right, but I couldn’t feel my damn face.

Truly, I didn’t blame her for any of this. I’d been the fool who’d agreed to this fight, and I would have asked to battle Zade regardless of Ari’s arrival. Either way, I would’ve ended up in this ring.

The bell sounded, forcing me to tear myself from the distraught star maiden.

You’ve beaten bigger before , I reminded myself. A lie, surely, but self-talk was all I had at that moment.

On unsteady feet, I met Zade in the center of the ring.

He could smirk and belittle me all he desired, but I had something worth fighting for, and it had nothing to do with getting into that cursed Bleeding Hearts’ Tent.

While my body was already beaten and bruised, I knew that if I failed, then so did Ari.

Imagining her face if I lost—the idea that she’d condemn her family to a hellscape—would ruin me. I wouldn’t allow that shit to happen.

Before Zade moved an inch, I barreled into him with every ounce of force I could muster.

Wrapping an arm around his torso, I used my other hand to deliver a series of punches to his ribs.

He coughed and sputtered, but I kept him in place as I brutally battered his side.

The telltale crack of ribs breaking echoed in my head.

It was my turn to smirk at Zade. He didn’t appear so cocky now.

Zade flung me off with a quick jab to the side of my head, but I barely felt the pain—red coated my vision, the haze like a fire burning in my bones and consuming everything.

Fuck getting knocked down again. Screw Darren and this club.

I was tired of listening to others and being whatever they needed me to be.

What I wanted was to end this fight and finish the night with Ari at my side. Whatever came our way.

I roared, seeming to shake the very foundation of the club.

Not. One. More. Thing. Would. Be. Taken.

I pounced, my bloodied fist soaring into the Executioner of the North’s cheekbone.

I didn’t stop when he faltered, didn’t hesitate when Zade’s cocky expression dipped and he swayed, tumbling to the ground.

I jumped onto Zade’s stomach and unleashed everything I’d kept shut away—all the ugly sides of myself filled with hatred and self-loathing.

I had years of it stored up, and I beat it into his face.

Below me, Zade held up both hands, trying to avoid the punches raining down, but I was too far gone, too lost in the past. I was nine years old again, gazing at the men who’d broken into our home.

I hit their masked faces over and over again; for my mother, for my father, for me .

I lashed out for every single person who had ever felt weak or powerless.

Blood splattered across the floor, and crimson coated the majority of Zade’s face.

The audience’s deafening cries brought me back to reality, leaving the little boy I’d been behind. The people craved this—the blood, the gore, the cruel animalistic sounds of two men fighting to the death. Twisted, it was all twisted, and I’d lived like this for fucking years.

Arms banded around my waist, hauling me off the bloodied ruin of red that was Zade.

Distantly, I heard Darren call out my name, announcing me as the winner.

I felt no triumph.

There was only numbness.