22. Showdown

QUINN

I can't believe I interjected into the conversation.

My mind was still reeling from what had happened even after we finished our meal and left the restaurant behind. Every part of my body was humming with nervous energy, except I wasn't ready to withdraw into myself with the feeble attempt to hide. Hell, I was proud of myself and it flooded me with an ocean of emotions that the prince was pleased with me.

Aydin didn't attempt to inquire about the mysterious guest or the conversation that might have taken place. He simply pulled out onto the street and started taking us further into the heart of Vegas. While there was a hint of curiosity that haunted his aura, he seemed more than aware that it wasn't his place to question things.

"Are you avoiding the hotel?" I teased.

"Hm?" Asher raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to finish a text message before those golden eyes swung my way.

Nibbling on my lower lip, I struggled to keep my grin from getting out of control. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that I was probably riding from one hell of a unique high after the sudden meeting with an ancient vampire ─ one that revealed just how much Asher gave a damn about our bond. "We landed in Vegas several hours ago. I suppose I'm just not used to enjoying a nice outing like this."

The edges of his lips twitched. "You're going to have to get used to the idea that I intend on showing you off whenever personal business doesn't prevent me from doing so. I'm not going to keep you holed up in the penthouse, pet. I would much prefer to tease the world with sightings of you while they wonder who you are."

Aydin released a whistle that had the blush haunting my cheeks grow even more. "Boss did say you'd gotten struck by Cupid's arrow, sire. I think the statement was pretty damn accurate."

I flushed as the heat started to spread to other parts of my body. Was I ever going to get used to this kind of treatment where the prince had gone from sealing a collar around my neck to flat-out putting me on a goddamn pedestal to worship? Probably not. I was someone that was used to remaining in the shadows just to survive while my own mother constantly reminded me that I was nothing more than wasted space.

It certainly felt like it by the time Anita successfully kept me out of the house.

I jolted out of my thoughts when the SUV slowed down before taking a sharp turn. My eyes flickered out of the window as the demon guided us down a sharp hill leading under an open garage. While the upper levels were open to the public, the underground level was protected by thick iron gates that were already parting to allow us inside.

Whether it was just that obvious that going into the underground level left me tense as hell or our bond was just that strong, Asher's golden eyes found their way toward me. He didn't say a single thing, opting for simply reaching out and squeezing my leg.

It was comforting that he seemed to realize what I needed when it came to my panicked nerves. There was a part of me that simply didn't like being underground to begin with — which had made my job amongst the APL an everyday struggle. Yet that wasn't the cause for my impending panic attack. Going underground at all reminded me of all those nights my mother had kept me tucked away in the basement, locked in that damn dog crate.

Closing my eyes, I focused on the physical contact and the warmth seeping from his palm. That alone helped put a firm stop to the panic attack, allowing me to get control over it before it really got out of hand. A few deep breaths and a stopped car later, I had the fear suppressed and my emotions collected. By the time Asher came around to open my door, I had pulled myself together in record time.

"Looks like we're just in time to catch the first main match of the night." Aydin waited for us to join him on his side of the vehicle, those dark eyes locked on his cell phone. "Sol has a private booth that is available for you to use, should you want it. There are also front-row seats near the arena."

"There is no need for the VIP booth. We'll take the ground floor."

Tucking my arm around Asher's, I focused on maintaining deep breaths. I had known this would be his decision even before those words had escaped his mouth, purely based on the brief conversation we'd shared in the car. I couldn't argue with the fact that there had indeed been a small part of me that had hoped he would opt for the booth simply because I wasn't accustomed to getting so much attention. The rest was all for the challenge of conquering this part of myself while enjoying being in the spotlight.

Aydin murmured softly under his breath while he passed the message on to the being on the other end. Once it was tucked into his pocket, he gestured for us to follow him toward the elevator off to the side.

A loud ding echoed throughout the garage seconds before the metal door parted and revealed another male demon waiting inside. He reached out to ensure the doors remained open. "Greetings, sire," he offered with a bow of his head. "We are all quite excited to have you here at the casino tonight."

Casino?

I threw a puzzled glance at the prince.

Aydin led the way into the elevator, taking great care to plant himself in between the bald demon and us. He clasped his hands together behind his back while the demon pulled his hand away from the doors. "You're looking well, Vax. Promotion treating you well?"

Vax mimicked him after he smacked the button to take us up to the ground floor, offering a small shrug. "It's been pleasant, for the most part. There are some nights I do miss having to break up a fight on the casino floor. Although it's been quite interesting to see which fighter rises in Sol's hierarchy now that Tank retired."

"Tank was a beast in the ring," Aydin mused. "It's going to be quite difficult for someone else to fill the shoes he left behind. Are there any contenders?"

"Antonio seems to be the next fighter to place your money on. The son of a bitch hasn't lost a fight yet this year. The only one that he ever lost to was Tank. No one else has come close."

Asher was content to let the two carry out their conversation while he remained absolutely silent. If it wasn't for the humming from the elevator, there wouldn't have been anything else to break up the sudden moments of silence. His body only tensed slightly when it came to a halt and the metal doors parted, exposing a large room filled to the brim with guests.

Two more demons were waiting for us. With Vax joining them, the trio worked together to help clear a path for us to take around the edge of the area hosting the slots while Aydin brought up the rear.

I remained glued to the prince's side without actually having my hip attached to his. The hair was already rising on the back of my neck as we brushed against all the chaos unfolding in the casino. Not only were there more people than I had ever seen in one room, but the mixture of shouting and loud noises from the machines had every part of me on edge. It was a wave of noises that I could've gone without ever hearing. Yet that didn't seem to be the core cause for my stomach twisting into a painful knot.

I could feel a pair of eyes finding their way toward us and the weight of it brought with it a negative energy that could only be matched by what I'd felt with Lazarus. Gritting my teeth, I surveyed the crowd until I found a single demon hovering off to the side of the room, just outside of the chaos.

This man had the same wireless earbud nestled in his ear that Vax had, although he didn't seem to be paying attention to it. Those eerie white eyes flickered in my direction, standing out from beneath the long crimson hair pulled back into a bun. The icy expression painting his face certainly seemed to fit his demeanor. He remained motionless as we made our way toward him. "You were not to leave your post on the arena floor, Vax," he growled.

Chills trickled down my spine at the lack of any emotion within those words.

Vax responded with a dismissing snort. "If you want to file a complaint, take it up with Sol, Malakai. He's the one that sent me to retrieve them from the garage." He continued on past the demon without offering a further response.

It was impossible to miss the amount of tension that quickly unfolded when Malakai's eerie eyes shifted toward the rest of us. As we passed by him, he turned his head slightly and seemed to sucking in a sharp breath. His eyes narrowed into thin slits.

It took everything I had not to immediately retreat to Asher's other arm. My skin was crawling from the way he seemed to be smelling my scent. It reminded me of the day I had crossed paths with Asher, except this took that weary feeling in the other direction. While the prince had me soaking from that simple action, this bastard had me ready to bolt. Just the way he was gazing at me gave me the impression that he was ready to hunt me.

I couldn't get past the freaky bastard fast enough. Once Vax pulled open a door that led to another wing of the building, the heavy weight finally dissipated from my shoulders and allowed regular airflow to my lungs. I tightened my grip on Asher's arm as the room shifted slightly. This was not the place where I wanted to lose consciousness. I could already feel the weight of so many eyes swinging in our direction.

"Breathe, pet. All you have to do is make it to the seats." The prince's voice was soft. These words were only for my ears ─ my reassurance.

It didn't seem possible to maintain so much control over something as simple as breathing, not without squeezing my eyes shut and attempting to shut out the rest of the world. It took everything I had just to make sure my feet were still moving despite the overwhelming chaos consuming my thoughts.

The front area for this section was meant as nothing more than an area for guests to gather while they waited for security to confirm their identities before they were allowed to go inside. Every single one of them parted as we drew close with those wide-eyed gazes locked on us. They didn't give a damn about Vax or the other guards.

Their attention was on Asher and the pretty little doll hanging on his arm: me.

Pressing my lips together, I kept my attention locked on all the open doors ahead. I could already hear loud chanting coming from the other side with an occasional bright light that swung in our direction. Not a single ounce of it made sense until security ushered us through. Goosebumps sprang up along my skin as the chilly air in the entrance area was immediately replaced by one that was humid.

"Is that…Prince Asher?"

How I managed to hear a woman nearby whispering, I had absolutely no clue. All I allowed myself was a quick peek to discover that a young blonde in a sparkling dress had snapped at her two male companions until they were all staring at us in awe.

"It is!" The redhead sitting on her immediate right rasped.

The brunette on the far end of their little group drew his head back with a scoff. "I can't remember the last time he came to one of the fights. He usually brings one of the demon lords, though. Never a woman."

Just keep looking ahead, Quinn… You can do this. Believe you are a badass!

"So who is she?" the woman inquired with a quizzical glance.

Her redheaded companion offered a loud snort. "Does it really matter?"

Her head whipped toward his direction. "It most certainly does if this is not typical behavior for our prince! If he brought a woman here, then clearly she must be important."

I slid my eyes over so that Asher's expression was within my peripheral view. There wasn't an ounce of surprise flowing through me when I found a slight smirk was already covering that flawless face. He'd heard the group just as easily as I had and he was pleased that our arrival was causing obvious rifts in the crowd. Raising my jaw, I focused on keeping my breathing going and my feet moving down the steps until my ass was finally in the cushioned chair.

Asher immediately shifted his arm to drape behind me. "You are much stronger than you realize, pet. You will adjust in time."

Blowing out a breath, all I could offer him was an abrupt nod before I fixed my attention on the caged arena in front of me. Just seeing the sleek metal had every inch of my skin crawling. Although it wasn't consumed with a deep negative energy that I had picked up from Malakai, I could still sense they'd seen their fair share of violence.

"Will there be anything else, sire?" Vax raised his voice just to be heard over the occasional shouting around us.

The prince simply shook his head.

"Sol will be by to greet you after the first match." Snapping his fingers at the other two guards, Vax led the way toward the outer ring of the room.

Asher relaxed in his chair while those stunning golden eyes surveyed the large room around us. There wasn't a single being in the crowd that held his attention for long, although he certainly caused enough stares from everyone else. He simply pressed his lips together and shifted his attention to the arena when the main lights started to dim.

I could tell the man coming around the cage wasn't a demon by the way the other guests snarled and hissed at him. Yet the poor referee seemed to be used to that type of abuse by the way he simply sauntered on. With his quick hustle, he was within the cage in minutes. He raised a hand up into the air. It only took a moment before a microphone was lowered from the ceiling, straight into his waiting hand. Gripping it tightly, he turned to peer at the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen… Are you ready for a night of fights full of broken bones and blood?"

My stomach churned, threatening to rebel against me. I had yet to see anything tied to that promise, but it didn't seem to matter. I turned my head slightly, although I couldn't quite break my gaze from the referee. "He's…kidding, right?"

"Not at all." Asher clicked his tongue softly.

I could feel my lips parting and my jaw dropping with disbelief.

The prince released an amused snort. "Our kind dabbles in all of the famous sins, pet. If it can offer any type of temptation for another, we invest and sell it. Fights just happen to be one of them ─ especially caged events. They all want to see blood staining that mat as long as it's not theirs." He slid his gaze over toward me with the edges of his lips twitching. "Do you get squeamish at the sight of blood?"

Narrowing my eyes, I growled, "I was a virgin to a lot of things before we met."

That squeezed a chuckle out of him, the sound catching the attention of several other guests nearby. From the look of pure shock on their faces, it left me with the heavy question of how often this man actually laughed in public.

"Tonight…we have a series of powerful fights lined up for you." The referee started pacing around the outer part of the ring. For every snarl that was thrown in his direction, he simply smirked in return. "The underground's rising star will endure a series of challenges in order to win the right to be crowned the new victor. One loss and he will fail."

I cocked my head to the side, following the man around the ring. "How many fights do they usually set up on a night like this?"

The prince returned his attention to the arena. He lifted his chin slightly. "Six."

The air caught in my throat as my mind worked a mile a minute to process everything and connect the necessary pieces. "Do they really expect one man to fight against six different people? In one night?"

Another snicker rumbled from Asher's chest. The very sound seemed to leave a nearby woman ready to faint, all while he was blissfully oblivious to the reactions he was causing. "Sol's previous champion just retired, pet. That leaves the rest of his fighters with the chance to prove themselves. Doesn't mean they can grab the belt that easily. They have to win the right to wear and protect it."

The explanation left me reeling, which was only yet another reminder that I wasn't brought up in this world. Asher was accustomed to every single thing that was going down tonight. The requirements for a new champion didn't faze him like it did me. Blowing out a slow breath, I fixed my eyes on the arena again. "So. in order for someone to claim the belt…to protect it…they have to successfully get through all six fights and still be standing at the end."

"Bingo."

That was the last thing I ever expected to come out of his mouth and the realization that it had left me giggling.

"Hailing from the heart of Central America, our first challenger is new to the underground scene." The referee draws back against the wired wall while a new man emerges from backstage, strolling down the cement runway. He swept a hand in the fighter's direction. "Does Diego Lackester have a chance of bringing down our possible champ?"

The entire crowd rose to their feet, roaring a wave of mixed responses. There were some that seemed to think Diego might actually have a chance at dethroning a king before he could even be crowned while others thought it was a huge waste of time — and money — for Sol to even throw him on the roster.

Still, Diego didn't seem to care about the negative feedback. He simply bounded around the cage and onto the ring. He jammed two fists into the air as he released a thunderous shout that managed to overpower all the screaming around me.

While this man seemed to be overly confident about his ability, the referee didn't seem to carry the same opinion. He shifted his hand back toward the entrance with a mischievous smirk painted on his face. "And now…for the moment you've all been waiting for…our possible champion, coming from the heart of the demonic empire! Antonio Rael!"

I could sense the tension leaking off of Asher long before I noticed the muscles in his jaw flexing. Pressing my lips together, I threw a quick peek at him to confirm that even those piercing eyes had narrowed into thin slits. There was something about Antonio that seemed to get under the prince's skin. As much as I wanted to question him about it, I knew better than to attempt it in public. The irritation lurking just beneath his skin was nothing compared to what simmered in Antonio.

Right off the bat, I could tell he was a demon and he seemed to sense the prince once he came within range. His brown eyes swung in our direction. At first, he was entirely focused on Asher. That upper lip curled and a muffled snarl ripped from his lips. It wasn't until he realized the prince had shown up with company of a different sex that his steps faltered for a moment. Once his attention drifted toward me, he almost stumbled.

It almost felt like Malakai was taking a whiff of me all over again, except this time Antonio was attempting to see into the depths of my soul while he attempted to figure out if I had been lucky enough to get seated by the prince of demons ─ or if I was actually there as his guest. By the time he drew close to the entrance of the cage, his upper lip curled. It was clear he had figured out I definitely held meaning to Asher and that just seemed to leave him enraged. He ripped his gaze from us, storming into the caged ring.

The referee straightened immediately, bringing himself into the middle of the ring. He gestured for each fighter to take the opposite side of the ring. Although Diego was more than willing to heed the request, Antonio seemed more eager to get as close as he could get before the referee was forced to cut him off.

Antonio's nostrils flared as he glared at his opponent. There were almost two feet of difference between his height and the ballsy being attempting to stop the fight from starting too early. He was more than aware of how he towered over the poor soul. Although the rage pulsed through his body with so much strength that it terrified me, he did eventually back into his side of the ring.

"Gentlemen… You will have three minutes to obtain the chance to progress to the next round. Only three minutes." The referee's hazel eyes flickered from Diego to Antonio. "Are you ready?"

"Fucking start this already or I will!" Antonio snarled.

A chanting immediately sprang up from the crowd, every single one of these souls sensing the rage and feeding off it. It wasn't long until the noise echoed off the walls. The sound was becoming so deafening that the referee was beginning to cower from the sheer sound of it. He had no choice but to flick his hand.

As soon as the bell rang, both men lunged at each other. While Antonio's lips curled to expose a double set of fangs, Diego released a sharp breath that reminded me of a rabid wolf. It didn't matter if the shifter had every intention of delivering the first blow, his opponent was pissed off enough to beat him to it.

Antonio slammed his fist into the shifter's cheek, enough force behind the strike that it sent Diego right back up against the cage wall. The sound of bone crunching was barely muffled by the metal chains rattling. He was quick to follow it up with another blow that met the shifter as he stumbled forward. Every single blow he dished out resulted in a line of blood splattering down along the mat.

I sucked in a sharp breath as Diego went down from his head smacking against the thick wiring. His cheek had already split from the first blow with crimson droplets oozing from the fresh wound. My stomach was churning from the faint smell of iron in the air, already merging with a hint of sweat. While there was a part of me that yearned to avert my gaze with a feeble attempt to shut the fight out, I couldn't find the strength within myself to look away.

There was so much rage behind Antonio's strikes that I was paralyzed.

It didn't matter that his opponent had already been knocked to the mat. Antonio was more than willing to keep delivering the next violent punch. He wasn't even aware of the referee trying to force him back, even when the poor soul was attempting to squeeze in between them. He simply slumped down to continue the brutal beating. It wasn't until the bell rang that he finally pulled away with a livid snarl.

The referee immediately dropped to his knees, checking for a pulse. Although the relief was evident in his eyes that the shifter was still breathing, he gestured at the two medics waiting off to the side to bring the stretcher. With them on their way, he rose from the ground and spun around. "You know the rules! You are required to give your opponent a chance to get off the ground before you deliver the next strike. I should have you disqualified!"

Antonio was quick to get in the man's face with a loud growl. "Are you willing to risk the rage of the crowd? They'll turn against you the moment you attempt to do that. Sol won't even be able to save you by the time someone rips you apart."

Any inner strength the poor referee had seemed to dissipate as the full weight of his reality was shoved into his face. He paled and his words faltered into silence.

Antonio exhaled sharply, causing the other man to flinch. "Just how brave are you feeling, Jack? I'm not the one you'll have to deal with. They want to see more blood and they'll accept yours."

That seemed to crumble the referee into submission. Gritting his teeth, Jack reluctantly backed away and simply waited for the two medics to get Diego onto the stretcher. He reached for the walkie hanging at his hip, no doubt intending to call for the next fighter to make their way toward the ring. His entire body stiffened when the demon's hand lashed out.

"Oh, no." Antonio's lips curled into an icy smirk. "I'm not going to waste my evening with the rest of the lineup. I want someone fucking worth my time." He released the referee, turning to retrieve the microphone while the medics retreated with an unconscious fighter on their stretcher. "I don't think that fight lasted quite long enough for the rest of you. I'm actually feeling quite insulted that Sol would put me up against such virgin blood. You all wanted blood…and this fucker went down far too quickly. Did he not?"

The crowd was immediately in an uproar, no doubt eager to agree. Hell, they even seemed excited to tap into that endless rage pulsing within his veins.

"I think we all deserve a better fight… So why don't we bring up some blood that is actually worth spilling?" Antonio angled his body, his brown eyes finding their way toward our direction. His smirk grew as he pointed at the prince. "Let's see how our own future king can hold his own in the ring! No backup. No fucking bodyguards. Just you and me, asshole!"

The noise level within the crowd immediately shifted. While those further away were more than willing to vocalize their absolute delight that such a challenge had even come up, those closer to our seats were afraid to utter a sound.

Movement came from behind the cage. It didn't take long for another tall male to emerge, except this one wasn't dressed up to fight. Judging by the sleek suit and the annoyance painted on his face, it couldn't be anyone else except for Sol. He jammed a finger in Antonio's direction while he roared in their native tongue. His deep blue eyes were swirling with the same rage that seemed to be haunting the prince.

Antonio swept his hands out, turning to face his boss with a casual smirk. "What? You wanted a show tonight, boss man! I'm giving you one."

Sol lashed out, seizing the wired caged walls with a livid snarl. "You're pushing your luck! I gave you a chance to go for the title. Now you want to fuck all that up by challenging someone that's not even on the fucking roster? We have one for a goddamn reason!"

"Oh, please." The demon drifted closer to the cage wall, keeping the microphone trapped in his hand. "A little ole belt like that isn't going to appease someone like me. You're just afraid that I'll smash his head into the ground and leave our race without a future king." His upper lip curled as he pulled away from the wall. "Don't the rest of you want to see if he's worthy to rule over us?"

It became obvious just how many demons had crammed into the room to witness the fights just by how much their roars echoed around us. Most of them were on their feet with utter delight painted on their faces while the remaining races seemed unsure about the challenge itself.

It was clear where Sol stood on the matter with the fact he continued to scream at Antonio to back down or risk losing the possibility of becoming the next defending champion. Yet, the endless rage that helped him remain firm on his own standing started to falter when most of the room had succumbed to a clear chant.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Sol's blue eyes drifted toward us, a grim expression escaping across his face.

"What do you say, old friend?" Antonio swung around to smirk at the prince. "Think you can prove you're really worthy to take that fucking golden throne of yours? Show us how worthy you really are!"

"He's fucking crazy," I rasped.

A violent shift ripped through the endless crowd when Asher finally eased out of his chair, rising to his full height as he shed his suit jacket. "The Costa bloodline isn't known for anything else," he growled. "It seems to run in the family."

It took everything I had to suppress the shock tearing through me once I realized the prince was relenting to the powerful demand continuing behind us. Dread coursed through my veins at the idea of him stepping into the caged ring with someone who was ready to draw blood. With such a cowardly referee, there wasn't anyone who would be willing to put a stop to the fight should things go too far. Perhaps what shocked me more was the fact that I could spot the same wild flame dancing within my demon's golden eyes.

These two had a personal score to settle and neither one of them were willing to back down.

Sucking in a ragged breath, I reached out to take his jacket from him. "Please be careful," I pleaded softly.

The edges of his lips twitched. "Oh, pet… We still have an outing to finish."

Despite his underlying reassurance that all would be well, I couldn't ignore the knot in my stomach growing painfully tight as he strolled toward the ring. It was agonizing to watch him roll up his sleeves so casually.

Antonio's nostrils flared as he watched the prince approach without a care in the world. He didn't make an attempt to hold onto the microphone, releasing it so that those up in the staff booth could finally retract it.

For a brief moment, Asher's golden eyes locked with Sol's and a silent conversation seemed to pass between them. When he severed eye contact, Sol tore away from the cage with a snarl. He made a beeline toward me, taking the prince's seat without hesitation. "I should have known better than to give the son of a bitch a chance at the title. He's too much of a wild card to play by the goddamn rules."

I nibbled on my lower lip, casting a weary glance at the fuming demon beside me. "There's history between them, isn't there?"

His blue eyes flickered toward me. "Judging by the bond you two seem to carry now, I'm sure you've noticed how Asher runs things. He prefers to keep a small group close to him…help him oversee the expanding empire. The demon lords are vital to his rule. Not only must they trust him with their lives, but he is required to do the same. No other system will work. It is the precise reason why he has been able to expand on an empire when his father was never able to."

Drawing in a slow breath in a desperate attempt to keep my frantic nerves under control, I shifted my attention back toward the ring. Asher looked so out of place with him still dressed in his expensive clothes while Antonio was almost naked. If it wasn't for the same rage pulsing through both of them, I wouldn't find it believable that this was going to happen. "I don't…"

"It's a crime to attempt to harm a demon lord. That even carries on to those that work beneath them."

The agonizing memories that I had been forced to share with Calianna tore through my head until I could almost see her slicing into Xaide all over again. Just seeing the rage swirling within Asher's eyes when I revealed everything that I had seen… There wasn't a word that existed that could express that deep of a rage.

Now that I looked at both of these men, that same rage was tearing through him all over again.

The referee made a feeble attempt to lay down some ground rules ─ most of them meant to help protect Asher from any serious harm. His words were soon lost amongst the loud chanting until the bell finally rang.

With so much rage tearing through them, it was anyone's game as to who would land the initial strike. The fact Antonio managed to successfully start the match with his own fist landing the first blow didn't do a damn thing for the nausea swirling within me.

The air caught in my throat as I watched Asher's head get slapped toward the other direction. It didn't take him long to return his attention to the livid demon, except now he was sporting a fresh wound just like Diego had. The knot in my stomach grew so painful that I felt ready to faint.

Or vomit. Whichever came first.

Antonio came at him with every intention of striking him down and beating him into submission like he had during the previous match with the shifter. What he didn't anticipate was both his rage and his cockiness to turn against him so quickly.

Asher immediately pulled to the left, causing the demon's fist to miss horribly. With his opponent now unbalanced from the stray strike, he was quick to throw out a few of his own. It didn't even seem to matter that the punches didn't knock him down, not when he had one hell of a kick to do the job for him.

Despite the fact that he was essentially thrown into a roll until he slammed against the cage wall, it didn't take long for the shock to wear off. Antonio's dark eyes quickly sought us out and that rage returned in full force. He rolled away from the metal with a livid snarl.

"Have you had enough?" Asher curled his upper lip to expose his fangs.

Antonio responded by bearing his own. "Not even fucking close, asshole!" He lunged for the prince, eager to go another round. When they tangled this time, it took more than a few strikes to create some distance.

They were content to remain up close to deliver the blows.

Sol's jaw flexed. "Tank would be insulted."

It hadn't taken long for the crowd to rise onto their feet, hooting and roaring with every strike that was delivered. It didn't even matter who managed to land the blow as long as a new wound was created. The expression painted on Sol's face revealed just how livid he was at the current predicament.

I grimaced when Antonio managed to catch Asher on the same cheek that had already been split open. It was one thing to watch the blood oozing down his skin. Being able to smell it was another. While my stomach churned at the sight of the crimson droplets scattering on the mat below them, my mouth watered. Every part of my body tensed at the startling realization. Why am I reacting to the smell of his blood?

As much as I wanted to shut out the fight until this strange desire within me faded, I couldn't stop my eyes from swinging back toward the cage when the noises from the crowd shifted into stunned groans. My heart was already skidding to a halt with the powerful fear that I would be watching the prince crumble onto the filthy mat.

It wasn't Asher that had gone down ─ it was Antonio. All it had taken from the prince was a swift kick directly to the chest to fling his opponent back against the cage walls. There was so much force built up behind it that Antonio could do nothing as his head slammed into the metal. He slumped down onto the ground with a baffled expression painted on his face.

The second he hit the mat, the entire arena was on their feet with delighted roars.

"Serves the bastard right." Sol scowled, easing up out of the chair.

If it wasn't for everyone else already towering over me, I wouldn't have found the strength to move. My legs trembled beneath me as I straightened my back and waited for the prince to leave the ring.

Asher was content to tower over Antonio until the referee did his part and the bell finally symbolized the end of the match. The scoff he offered the fallen demon was silent, yet the action was enough. He'd known from the start how the match was going to go down.

Clearly, this wasn't the first time they'd swapped lashes.

I couldn't find it within me to draw in deep breaths until Asher finally left the ring and strolled toward us.

Delighted remarks sprang up behind us, although Sol appeared far from pleased about the fight. He simply kept his arms crossed over his chest while the prince joined us at the seats. "Sometimes I forget how much you are like your father," he grumbled.

Asher's eyebrow twitched. "Would you rather I back down like a coward, uncle?"

Shivers trickled down my spine. That explained why he chose an underground fight. Sol was family, no doubt from his mother's side. Still, it was comforting to see a theme from those I had been introduced to so far. Even with the anger still coursing through his uncle, it was clear he gave a damn about the prince for more than just him being royalty.

Tsking, Sol gestured for both of us to follow him into the back while the medics saw to Antonio in the ring. "Let's get you cleaned up, kid."

I had no problem trailing after them, not with Aydin bringing up the rear. I had forgotten about his presence during all the chaos with the final match. Hell, my nerves were still struggling to calm down. It would take physical contact and it looked like I'd have to just deal with it while Asher got his wounds tended to. I bit down on my lower lip hard, struggling to ignore the way the hair was rising on the back of my neck.

Somewhere, someone was watching me like a chunk of prey that was about to get away.