His leg buckled slightly.
“Oh no,” Soleil whispered.
“You alright?” his coach shouted from the corner.
Asher nodded, but even from here, I saw the pain flicker across his face.
The other fighter noticed it too. Another kick followed, then another hit to the same knee. My stomach dropped. Phoenix’s face twisted, Eric swore, and Becket went still.
“Come on,” I whispered helplessly.
Asher fired back with a furious combination of punches that drove the other man backward. Blood sprayed from a cut above the guy’s eye. By the time the bell rang again, both fighters were bleeding. I didn’t know how much more I could take. Asher’s brothers were convincing each other it was going to be okay. Soleil looked at me with sympathy, and Jonah muttered something about Asher finishing the guy in the next round.
The final round felt like chaos. They met in the center of the cage and started trading blows like neither one of them cared about pain anymore. My nails dug into my palms. Asher slammed an elbow into the man’s shoulder and forced him sideways.
“Go Ash!” Eric shouted.
But the other fighter surged back. A brutal punch crashed into Asher’s jaw, and my heart stopped. His head snapped sideways.
“Oh no,” I whispered desperately.
Another punch landed hard. Asher tried to reset. But the next hit connected before he could. Then Asher collapsed, and the referee rushed in as the crowd erupted. All I could see was Asher lying on the mat, not moving.
“No,” I breathed as tears stung my eyes.
Eric was already on his feet.
“Come on,” Becket said.
Everything after that became a blur. Asher was taken away on a stretcher. The ambulance arrived quickly, and I got in with him. His brothers and Soleil, Elise, and Jonah followed us to the hospital.
The hospital room smelled sterile and cold. I sat beside the bed, holding Asher’s hand, staring at his face, waiting for him to wake up. His eyelids finally fluttered. Relief flooded through me so hard I nearly started crying.
“You’re awake,” I said quickly.
He squinted at the ceiling. “What happened?” he asked, his voice groggy.
“You got knocked out,” Eric answered from the corner.
Becket added, “Doctor says mild concussion.”
The doctor confirmed it a moment later before leaving the room. Phoenix patted Asher’s shoulder lightly.
“We’re going to grab coffee,” he said. “You two talk.”
The door closed behind them. Silence filled the room.
“You scared me,” I whispered.
“I scared myself,” he admitted. “That was my last fight.”
My eyebrows lifted. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah.” His voice softened. “I don’t want to live by my fists anymore.”
My fingers tightened around his. “That’s a relief.”
He turned his head toward me. “I see my life differently these days. I know what I want.”