**Valeblack's POV — The Underground, Night**
The fighting ring was in an abandoned warehouse on the industrial edge of the city.
Marcus led him through a maze of corridors, past groups of wolves, vampires, and things Valeblack couldn't identify. Money changed hands. Bets were placed. The air reeked of blood and violence.
"You sure about this?" Marcus asked for the third time.
"Do I have a choice?"
"You always have a choice."
"Not when the alternative is watching Viktor kidnap my family."
They entered a large open space. Chain-link cage in the center. Fifty spectators surrounding it. No refs. No medics. Just raw violence for profit.
A man approached—tall, scarred, missing half an ear. "You're Silverstone?"
"Yes."
"Eight thousand for a win. Nothing for a loss.
