Whoever this Champion was, he was taking his time. That was fine.
Brynleigh used the opportunity to harden her heart and prepare herself as best she could. She would win this fight, pass the test, and get one step closer to getting the information Ryker needed.
Her resolve was firm enough that even when her opponent finally came into view, she didn’t shake. Much.
A slight tremor ran through her because,come on.
This man was barely a man. He was a mountainous elf who made the bulky guard from the back entrance look like a child. He had to be at least seven feet tall. Naked from the waist up, his muscular, sun-kissed chest was mottled with scars. Swirling crimson markings ran from his waistband to his neck. Between his red tattoos and pointed elf ears, his Death Elf heritage was apparent.
Gods damn it all.
Brynleigh’s chest tightened as unbidden memories of Preston, the Death Elf who’d participated in her torture, rushed back to her. She recalled the way he had pulled red threads of magic from his palms, molding them into various instruments of torture.
Death Elf magic was malleable, painful, and a tool for ending lives.
Famously, the Crimson King had used his Death Elf magic to terrorize Ithenmyr during the time of the Four Kingdoms. He’d destroyed the balance and thrown the entire continent into darkness. It was only because the High Ladies of Life and Death had restored the balance that the Republic existed today.
Breathe.Fucking breathe.
This wasn’t Preston, Brynleigh wasn’t in The Pit, and she would win this fight because she had no other choice.
The Crimson Shade clambered onto the stage and stood on Dimitri’s other side.
Brynleigh’s heart thundered as she stared at the mountainous man. Isvana help her, this would fucking hurt. Even if she won, there was no way she’d be able to leave without experiencing at least a bit of pain.
Brynleigh was about to grab Dimitri’s sleeve and tell him she’d changed her mind when a familiar head of chestnut hair caught her eye.
Jelisette stood at the foot of the stairs, a cruel smile painted on her face. She caught Brynleigh’s eye and raised a brow as if to say,I’m watching you.
The warning was clear.
There was no backing out.
Dropping her arm, Brynleigh swallowed. This definitely hadn’t been her brightest idea, but it was too late now.
Dimitri strolled to the edge of the stage and extended his arms.
“The rules are simple.” The Alpha’s voice boomed. “No fangs. No wings. No blades. The first one to knock out their opponent wins.”
Oh, gods, this was even worse than Brynleigh had initially thought.
Dimitri stepped onto the first stair and yelled, “Begin.”
Bile rose in Brynleigh’s throat, but she forced it down. She could panic later. Right now, shehad a fight to win.
The Crimson Shade turned to her. He held her gaze, cracking his neck to the right and then to the left. His movements were slow, almost lazy, as his eyes crawled over her.
“Ready, Little One?”
First of all, that name was horrible. Brynleigh was not little, nor did she appreciate the elf’s tone. Second, and perhaps more importantly, she was not ready.
But she was out of options.
Reminding herself of the reasons she was doing this, Brynleigh made a beckoning motion with her fingers. “Bring it on.”
The Crimson Shadewas built like a mountain, but he fought like he was made of water. His movements were fluid, almost graceful. It was like he was one with the magic swirling from his fingers.
A quarter of an hour had passed since the fight had begun, and both fighters sported several cuts along their bodies.