RIVAL’S POV
The pit smelled like iron like always, before I even stepped inside.
I knew that smell too well. Sweat, blood, dirt soaked into the floorboards, all of it mixing into a stench that clung to my lungs. My ribs already ached, and the noise outside made it worse — hundreds of voices howling for violence, pressing against the walls like the place could burst.
I kept my shoulders straight, steps steady, even as every movement sent fire through my side. Weakness wasn’t an option here. The crowd could smell it as quick as blood in the water.
The bouncer at the back door gave me a look. Not pity — no one in Samuel’s world wasted pity. More like curiosity. Like he was already betting against me.
“Rival,” he grunted.
I brushed past him without answering. My boots hit the concrete st
