CHAPTER 19
The Royal Rumble began with a primal roar from the crowd. Hundreds of recruits, instructors, and staff packed the bleachers of the main arena, the air thick with sweat and expectation. The fighting pit, a circle of heavy, damp sand, was the centerpiece of the chaos, ringed by bright, unforgiving spotlights.
Lauren stood at the edge of the general holding area, feeling the relentless throb of her healing ribs. She had known this was coming, thanks to Ryle’s cruel ‘warning,’ but the reality of the noise and the spectacle was overwhelming.
The Master of Ceremonies, a burly instructor named Commander Volkov, called Taron’s name for the first official round of the night. Taron strode onto the sand, his scarred chest adding a dramatic, if entirely undeserved, air of veteran injury.
