nose if I was lucky. My blood sang at the thought.

A voice boomed through the underground, shaking me from my growing bloodlust. “My fellow beasties and the rest of you foul creatures, next up is Wolf Man and his challenger, ScarFae!” He drew out my moniker, making the word sound tough. But my concentration was solely on my competitor. Wolf Man? I snorted. And I thought my nickname was lame.

The barrel-chested dude must be a wolf shifter then. I held in a wince, already knowing how this night would end—with me limping home, a couple dozen bruises decorating my body. I was quick for a Fae—definitely faster than a human—but my tall, lean frame was no match for this guy’s muscular build. He was going to make puppy chow out of me.

When his yellow eyes met mine, I gave him the slow lip curl, the one that always freaked out my competition. Like they thought I was preparing to cast a spell on them. I stifled an eye roll. Shifters and their superstitions. Somehow they’d gotten the idea that Fae were also witches. Ruffling their feathers—or fur—was far too easy. He flashed his teeth at me when nothing happened. What, did he expect a light show?

Maybe he was hoping I’d reveal my wings. At the thought, an ache pulsed between my shoulder blades. I hadn’t released them in so long. The temptation was great—especially when I knew his reaction would be epic. But it wasn’t happening. He could grind me to minced meat and I still wouldn’t unleash my wings. The last time a Fae had broken the city’s wing ban rule, they’d been executed. A quick slice to the throat by the devil dragon himself.

I didn’t want to go out that way.

“You’re going down,” Wolf Man sneered.

How cute. We were thinking the same thing.

“I know.” I shrugged and he blinked, surprised. Point one for me. As the match began, there was no fanfare, no chick in a bikini to announce the rounds. Not even an official ref. At least I wasn’t forced to strip half naked, thank Gaia. That didn’t stop Wolf Man from doing so—he wore tight black shorts and nothing else.

The sight burned my retinas.

A rail thin man—ferret shifter was my guess—quickly recited the rules. Simple: knock out your opponent and win.

“You two ready?” the man asked in a reedy voice. I nodded. “Then in five . . .”

At that, a heady dose of adrenaline surged through my body.

“Four . . .” I settled onto the balls of my feet. “Three . . .” My eyes found Wolf Man’s. I winked. His nose wrinkled. “Two . . .”

Whatever you do, don’t stop. You’re the master of your pain.

“One. Fight!”

My vision bled red.

Thoughts switched off.

Instinct kicked in.

Kill the shifter.

I rushed forward, barreling my right shoulder into Wolf Man’s eight pack. He shuffled back a few steps, then flung me off him. I rolled but popped up, ready for more. Always more. I never wanted this feeling to end, this blinding blaze of hatred.

He came at me. Swung a brick-sized fist. Missed. I slipped past his guard, driving my own fist into his unprotected side. A second later, I paid the price for getting so close to a dominant wolf shifter. He drove his elbow into my sternum.

The impact almost caved in my bones and crushed my heart. I staggered but focused on my defense, ignoring the fire surging through my chest. The fight had just begun. I wouldn’t black out now. My body yearned to make contact with his, brutally, savagely. No mercy. Never mercy. None of them deserved mercy.

Not after the way they had pinned her down and—

Wolf Man struck at my face, but I blocked—kept my arms up, chin tucked close to my shoulder, waiting. My feet danced, taunting him. No one could dance quite like Fae-kind. I swiveled around the guy, sneaking in jabs from behind, from the sides. He threw his head back and bellowed as I made contact with the same spot on his ribs for the third time. A dusky bruise formed on his deeply tanned skin.

“You’re slow,” I deadpanned, avoiding another killer swing. Given the opportunity, one of those hits would knock me out cold. And maybe I would never get up again. But wasn’t that what I wanted?

“Hold still and fight me, you prancing pony,” he snarled and fell for my fake jab, leaving his ribs unprotected once more. What was with this guy? Dumb as toe jam. I rammed a fist into that dark purple spot, the impact splitting the skin at my knuckles. Sharp pain sped up my arm, sending my pulse into overdrive.

Finally.

After months of losing, I’d finally hit my stride. I could win this match now that my veins were engorged with the sweet thrill of revenge. No one could stop me, not when I felt like this. Invincible. Powerful. Stronger than a Shapeshifter.

“Too bad you’re not allowed to show me the real you,” I taunted. Baited him. “Your human form is weak and pathetic.” He lunged and managed to snag a handful of shirt. The linen fabric tore, exposing a section of my torso and back. My scars. Pure rage fueled my next move as I whirled and leapt, my bare heel pounding his jaw.

He roared. Several shifters outside the cage roared back. Good. Communicate. Connect to your animal. Change. Change! Black fur sprouted on his arms.

“No abilities,” Ferret Man warned. But his words had no impact on the slowly-morphing beast man. Shifter’s strength lay in their animal forms, but therein lay their weakness. Sometimes they fell prey to their animalistic instincts, human rationalism but an annoying buzz in their furry ears.

I was counting on that tonight.

“Come out and play, little pup.” I crooked a finger at the now half man, half wolf. The fact that he hadn’t fully shifted was kind of impressive. At least he was smart enough to resist the urge. He was hideously ugly in this half form, though, large

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