The roar of the underground crowd slammed into Jaxon like a wall of fire as he stepped into the pit. Torches crackled along the metal rails, casting jagged shadows across the sand-covered arena floor. Sweat, blood, and smoke thickened the air into something almost suffocating.
Lena was forced into a cage above the ringher hands tied, her face pale with terror. She shook the bars, screaming Jaxon’s name.
“JAXON! Don’t do thisplease!”
He didn’t look away. Her voice didn’t weaken himit fueled him.
Because Viktor wanted him broken by fear.
Instead, Jaxon only felt rage.
Rafe stood across the ring, swaying like a drunk man. His left eye was swollen shut. Cuts striped his arms. His breaths were shallow, ragged, scraping like broken glass against his ribs.
But his voicehis voice still carr
