Fight On (Riders of Tyr #3 - MC Romance)

27. Devils Faced

Vik

After Jack "visited" us and after what I assumed would be a nice interval for the esteemed guests to eat before they see more women tear each other apart, it's the time for the semi-finals. Lysa is keeping warm even though the intense yet brief fight with the guards kept her blood going.

"Who do you think you'll be up against?"

"Riona," she says shadow-boxing. "Last time I was in the cage with her, I barely got out. Jack would want me worn down for the finals."

I curse through my lips. This is bad, this is so fucking bad and there must be something I can do about it. I walk up and down with long strides.

"Don't worry," she stops me. "It will be fine."

"How the fuck is any of this fine? I should be the one fighting for you not the other way around."

"I like how we take turns breaking down," she says.

She's got a point. There is no use in panicking. I look back at her through the mirror and she has a faint smile on her lips. I can't lose her. If I lose her, I will be lost, alone in life. Alone. That was what I was before she came. Alone in the midst of my brothers, alone in the arms of all these women. There was a hole in me, a big, gaping hole that emptied me and never filled no matter how many bitches, guns and violence I threw in it. But she fills it, perfectly, utterly. My heart drops at the realization and the need to hold her overpowers me.

"Vik?" she frowns as I stride to her.

I don't let her say anything more, I just turn her to face me and pin her against the mirror. She gasps at my attack but her instinct lets her arm fall on my shoulders. I look down to her eyes and push a strand of hair off her face. My finger trails around her eyes, on her nose, her cheeks, her lips. I swallow down my sudden need to cry before her beauty and my thundering emotions.

"I wasn't fucking around, Lys. I do love you and you are mine."

"I wasn't fucking around either. I do love you and I am yours."

"Good. Finish this cause I want to fuck you so bad it hurts."

She smiles one of those smiles that, despite the fucked-up situation we are in, are coming more and more often. I lean in and I mold my lips against hers and keep caressing her with my mouth for a while, making her cheeks inflamed. Only then I touch her upper lip with my tongue demanding access and she does give it. And we keep kissing till we hear the MC announcing the start of the semifinals.

"For the first semi-final, welcome Rosalyn!"

Lysa concentrates at the drawn curtain. Her eyes are back to their icy disposition as she keeps her focus on the fight outside our cell. Not long after, "O Sanctissima" blasts through the speakers and the fight is on. The crowds are going wild. Surely, Jack's precious Magda is keeping the show going for the fight lasts longer than the others and the crowd is reaching frenzy. One loud thud is heard and then over the loud shrills a wail of unbearable pain cuts the air.

"Rosalyn," Lysa murmurs.

The crowd erupts in cries and more minutes pass. One more thud and the rattling of the cage. Lysa's hands roll in fists and she takes in long breaths to keep as calm as she can. The guests clap in excitement and the MC takes the lead once more.

"The winner and contestant in the finals is Madgaleeeeene!"

Lysa is next. My back tightens and my muscles clench at the thought but Lysa just jumps on spot and loosens her neck. I hear a low growl coming from down her throat. She is far gone in the zone, ready to tear anyone standing in her way. The Irish folk song is heard as Riona is going in the cage and then the curtain is pulled. This time, not one sound accompanies Lysa as she walks out. The rich fucks look down at her with a mixture of awe and fear, watching Lysa loosening her shoulders with her eyes looking straight ahead.