Chapter Twenty-Three

Jaxon

He's out of his mind. Out of his goddamn fucking mind.

Every single member of the RDF crowds around the holding cells, watching as Faith and Maverick take their places on either side of one glass room.

The last time Faith was here, she beat up a fellow omega while the alphas in the adjoining cell just watched—unable to intervene. That's the whole reason we separate our rogues to begin with. If even one alpha found themselves in a fight with the omegas, god knows what might happen.

Faith is strong. Fast. Smart.

But she is no match for an alpha.

"Close the door," Caleb orders.

I push through the crowd, slamming my palms on the glass precisely as it locks shut.

"Fuck!" I snap. "Okay, you've all made your point. Very ballsy. Or progressive. Or whatever the fuck you're going for." I turn to Caleb. "Are we done now?"

"They both consented to this." Caleb grits his teeth. "One round can't hurt."

Can't hurt ? Did he forget Maverick comes from special fucking ops?

I still have one hand on the glass when Caleb continues, "Rules are simple. No kill shots. Winner pins their opponent for ten seconds, or they knock them clean out." He glares into the closed cell. "For both your sakes, I recommend the former. You've got five minutes."

Someone readies a timer. Grunting, Sirena nudges her way next to me. "This is barbaric," she says.

I only manage a growl in response.

Before I can think of a better argument to stop them—maybe, What the fuck would Micah have to say about this? —Caleb calls time.

The match begins.

Maverick charges without a second's hesitation. My inner alpha screams at Faith to run !, but she holds steady. Doesn't move until the very last second.

Maverick runs headfirst into the glass wall, the entire room ringing around them.

Huh. That was pretty good.

Faith leaps onto his back, locking one arm around his neck, using the other to elbow the ever-loving hell out of him. Audible gasps pass around the squad.

Unfortunately for her, what Maverick lacks in speed, he makes up for in brute strength—throwing her over his shoulder like it's nothing. She hits the floor with grace, rolling upon impact.

"She's fast ," someone breaths.

An unexpected pride flares up inside of me. It's tempered just as quickly.

"Shit," I snap. "Faith, duck!"

She's already down, aiming a low kick behind Maverick's knees. He jerks forward.

"Well damn," he laughs. "Look at you go, kitten."

The fuck did he just call her ? I glare at Caleb, only to find his dark-eyed expression is equally deadly.

Maverick jabs. It misses by a mile, colliding with the glass, and I swear the entire building rattles.

Is that asshole really going all out? Maybe he knew she'd dodge, or maybe he's just getting frustrated. Forgetting to hold back. Either way, he's in for a world of hurt after these five minutes are up.

Faith bounces on her feet.

She's goading him , I realize. She wants him to go all-out. This is about proving herself—not just her fighting skills … but her self-control.

Even so—a whole room of alphas ogling the fight, whispering amongst each other, horrified or horny or both—I can't bring myself to be okay with it. How is this any different from what Faith came from? From what the ringmasters made her do?

She creates another diversion, buying herself a split-second advantage.

But Maverick has finally caught on.

He spins around, seizing her by the shoulders and throwing her across the cell. Faith's body crumples against the glass.

Blood.

It's in my eyes. In my ears. In my every fucking breath.

I bulldoze through the crowd, making my way to the computer. Fuck my head alpha. Fuck my squad. Fuck all of this. I'm getting my omega out of there.

With a single command, I unlock the cell.

The door slides open, but the fight continues in earnest. By the time I storm into the cell, Faith's got Maverick on his knees, choking him out. She could actually win this. Or, he could break out and toss her around some more.

That's not a risk I'm willing to take.

"Jaxon—hey! Jax!"

I grab Faith around her stomach, tearing her away.

Maverick collapses to his hands and knees, wheezing. Faith thrashes against me, but I'm holding tight, and I'm not letting her go.

Caleb announces, "Time."

Like a switch has been flicked, Faith goes slack. I don't let her go just yet—not while her pheromones are still pumping out so hot and thick I can barely breathe.

Across the cell, Maverick grins, revealing a split lip. "Holy shit."

"Don't talk to her," I snarl, holding Faith closer against me. "Don't fucking look at—"

"You are something else, kitten," he ignores me.

If not for the fact that Faith is still in my arms, I'd probably be launching into a full-frontal assault. She twists around to face me, her keen blue eyes demanding.

I lift my hand to her face, tracing the faded scar across her cheek. Obviously Maverick has nothing to do with this wound—it's got to be years old—but still, seeing it there, knowing she was just in a fight … it awakens something in me. Something primal. Possibly dangerous.

"Faith." My head alpha's voice snaps me out of it. "You did good." He smiles. "Should we call it a draw?"

Faith scowls. She scans the holding cell until Sirena steps forward, offering her the notepad.

I WOULD'VE WON.

The whole squad rumbles with laughter. When Maverick sees the message, his grin only widens. "You want a rematch, sweetheart? Name the time and place."

I snarl. Caleb sighs. "Maverick."

"What?" he says. "Can't be putting that talent to waste."

Faith's eyes light up. I hear it, too. And I know Maverick can't be the only one who's thinking it.

Finally, Caleb puts the matter to a vote: all those in favor of bringing Faith on board, raise your hands.

Not one hand is left unaccounted for.