"You look like shit," I muttered.

  A cut split my eyebrow and I winced as I pressed my fingers against it.

  The brand on my hip was bright and I remembered the same symbol was scarred on Sasha's upper thigh.

  I wrapped the towel around my hips and noticed a pile of clothes, neatly folded on the countertop beside the sink.

  I grimaced as I grabbed them. A long-sleeved shirt and military-style cargo pants. I pulled them on and stalked out of the bathroom, unsure of what was going to happen next.

  The Rose sat in a chair, one leg hooked over the arm.

  Sasha knelt on the floor in front of her, her face buried between her Mistress' thighs. Sasha moaned as The Rose ran a hand through her dark red hair and held her in place. My eyes raked over Sasha's naked body, her ass and pussy exposed.

  The base of a dildo protruded from her puffy pink pussy lips, and her slick shone in the dim light, dripping onto the carpet as she licked and sucked at her Mistress' cunt.

  "Do you like what you see, Fighter?" The Rose's tone was taunting but my eyes were fixed on Sasha. I swallowed hard.

  "She's mine. Just like you are," she said. "Don't forget it."

  "You don't own me—" I growled. I strode toward her and then I realized that she held something in her hand.

  Before I could reach her, a sharp pain shot through my neck, and my vision blurred.

  The tranquilizer she had used was swift and unforgiving.

  The rich carpet rushed up to meet me, but I didn't feel anything as I hit it.

  Only blackness.

  Chapter 5

  Sasha

  I stood outside the cell where Asher was being kept and my heart ached as I watched him wake up.

  I knew that his vision would be blurred and his thoughts disoriented, his muscular body was tense and I watched him test the weight of the manacles on his wrists and ankles.

  He looked around the unfamiliar room, confusion etched on his face.

  It broke my heart to see him like this.

  He didn't deserve this. But neither did I.

  The room itself was bathed in dim lighting that barely illuminated the surroundings. The walls were cold and uninviting, made of concrete that seemed to suck every ounce of warmth from the space. I remembered the scent of the dampness hung heavy in the air and how it left behind an oppressive atmosphere that made it hard to breathe.

  I'd been held in a similar room for longer than I wanted to remember.

  Until I'd broken.

  Until I'd given in.

  "Fuck," he muttered as he tried to sit up, wincing in pain. "What the hell happened?"

  I hesitated, unsure of how much I should reveal to him. I couldn't bear to see him suffer any longer, but I knew I had to be careful.

  He was dangerous.

  I'd watched him in the ring. All that violence, and yet not once did his inhibitor chip engage to control his impulses.

  Dangerous.

  I turned the lock on the door, and he flinched at the loud click as it echoed through the room.

  I opened the door just wide enough to accommodate my frame and slipped inside

  "Shh," I whispered. "Just try to relax for now. Let me take care of you."

  As I approached him, I could feel his rage, simmering beneath the surface, a primal force that threatened to break free at any moment.

  But, for now, he held it in check, his jaw clenched tightly.

  "Where the fuck am I?" he demanded, his dark eyes locked onto mine as if searching for answers in the depths of my soul.

  "Please," I begged, "not now. We can talk later. Just let me tend to your wounds first."

  He looked ready to argue, but something in my expression must have told him that now wasn't the time. He sighed, nodding his head in acquiescence as I sank down on the bed next to him.

  I knew that soon enough, he would be forced to fight again. The thought of it made my stomach churn.

  "I'm here to help you."

  He flinched at first, but then sat still as I applied salve to the cut that had split his eyebrow.

  I pulled up his shirt and his muscles tensed under my fingers as I smoothed salve over his cuts and pressed a cotton ball soaked in witch hazel against his bruised flesh.

  He didn't flinch away.

  If anything, he leaned into my touch, desperate for the comfort I offered.

  "What's your name?" I murmured.

  "Why?"

  I dared to meet his dark eyes. "I can't call you Fighter all the time," I whispered.

  He shook his head and the corner of his mouth twitched.

  "Asher."

  His voice cracked, and I could see the guilt swimming in his piercing dark eyes. He blamed himself for what had happened between us.

  "Asher," I said. "Listen to me," I said softly, "It doesn't matter. None of it does. What happened— You'll get used to it."

  "Are you used to it?" he asked, bitterness lacing his words. "Being treated like an animal, forced to do… whatever she wants?" He tugged against the chains that bound him to the wall, his expression a mixture of anger and sorrow.

  "I— I don't know," I admitted, my voice barely audible.

  He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but I quickly shook my head and gestured vaguely toward a camera in the corner of the room.

  We couldn't risk being overheard. I couldn't risk her suspecting anything.

  Instead, I leaned in closer, my breath warm against his ear as I whispered, "You'll be expected to fight again... soon."

  The combination of fear and determination that flashed in his eyes nearly broke me.

  "Fight again?" Asher's eyes narrowed, a mixture of anger and disbelief coursing through him. "I won't do it. I won't be their pawn."

  "Please, Asher," I pleaded, my voice shaking as I met his determined gaze. "You don't have a choice. If you don't fight, she'll kill you."

  "Let her fucking try!" he snapped. The chains rattled as he pulled against them in frustration.

  "Your life isn't just yours anymore,' I said frantically. "You have to—"

  I didn't want to tell him to submit. He didn't seem like the type.

  I placed another bandage over a cut on his shoulder and pulled his shirt down over it.

  "Sasha—"

  "Don't talk about it," I said quickly. I didn't want to think about what had happened between us. It was hard enough to be close to him now without thinking about how he'd felt inside me—how much I'd wanted to give in and let my body react to his scent and the feel of his hands on my body.

  My Mistress had given me to countless fighters—all of them Betas—and none of them had made my body light up the way Asher did. I wasn't prepared for what that could mean.

  I wasn't prepared to think about any of it.

  What if he'd knotted me?

  What would she have done to him then?

  She'd already complained that she thought I'd enjoyed myself too much with him—I'd hoped that she hadn't seen it in my face.

  I stood up abruptly, his Alpha scent was making me feel lightheaded. And she would be wondering what was taking me so long. I knew she was watching.

  This was a test.

  A punishment.

  She wanted me to feel shame.

  But I didn't.

  I wasn't me when she ordered me to do those things.

  I was her possession.

  But it wasn't me.

  "You'll be taken for training," I said. "Impress her—"

  "Fuck her," he snarled.

  "Be careful," I said. "You're valuable—and you were expensive... but that doesn't mean she won't cast you aside in a second if you betray her."

  "Is that why you do what she tells you?"

  I blinked at him.

  How was I supposed to answer that?

  I didn't know if I had an answer.

  "I don't want to die here," I whispered.

  I grabbed the bag of medical supplies and walked quickly toward the door. Without looking at him I opened it and slipped out into the corridor. I closed my eyes as I turned the lock and resisted the urge to press my forehead against the cold steel.

  But she was watching.

  Always watching.

  Asher.

  I repeated his name in my mind as I straightened my shoulders and walked down the hall back into the compound.

  Days later, I stood beside my Mistress as we watched Asher train with his new handlers.

  My stomach churned with anxiety, my palms slick with sweat as I held tight to the railing on the viewing platform.

  He moved like a caged animal, his muscles rippling under his skin as he attacked each opponent with brutal precision.

  I couldn't help but admire his raw power, even as it tore me apart to see him used this way.

  "Isn't he magnificent?" my Mistress purred, her eyes glued to Asher's vicious display.

  "Yes, mistress," I replied, my voice tight.

  "I saw how much you enjoyed the way he fucked you," she said casually. "Almost too much."

  "N— No, Mistress," I said. "He's just another cock."

  That was what she wanted me to say. Every time she gave me to a fighter I would have to prove to her that she was better than any cock I would ever take. If she didn't believe that I was sincere enough, she would punish me.

  A smooth smile spread over her face as she slid her hand inside the neckline of my dress and palmed my breast.

  Asher glanced up at us and in the split second that he paused, one of the trainers landed a hard blow to his jaw that knocked him back.

  My breath hissed through my teeth as my Mistress pinched my nipple hard.

  Below us, Asher let out a frustrated roar and attacked the trainer with renewed vigor. The trainer retreated as quickly as he could, but didn't avoid getting a broken nose for his lucky strike.

  "He's ready to fight again," she said with a smile. "I can taste another victory."

  She snapped her fingers and one of the trainers blew a whistle to stop the sparring session.

  "He's ready," she called down to them. "Prepare him for Avelar's fighters."

  "Avelar?"

  My Mistress' lip curled. "A smug bastard of man," she said with disdain. "He thinks he's bought the best fighters in the Sector, but he's going to regret that. Just like everyone who bets against me." She stared down into the training area, hunger in her gaze as she watched Asher dodge and strike. "Acquiring that animal of an Alpha was the smartest investment I've ever made."

  I bit down hard on my cheek and tasted blood.

  "Don't you agree, Sasha?" she asked.

  She was testing me, I could hear it in her voice.

  "Of course, Mistress," I said. I did my best to keep any emotion out of my voice.

  I had to pretend that he was nothing.

  Just like the other fighters.

  Just another meaningless cock.

  On the night of the fight, the underground arena sponsored by my Mistress' rival was alive with anticipation—raucous cheers echoed through the air, sweat and blood mingling with the scent of lust and greed.

  Bets were placed, fortunes wagered on the outcome, and I felt sick with dread as I clung to my Mistress' arm.

  My only solace was the knowledge that Asher would do whatever it took to survive.

  "Look at him," The Rose whispered, her eyes alight with pride as she surveyed the scene. Asher was in a holding pen at the side of the cage. He paced the length of it, prowling like an animal as he watched the starter fights.

  Blood from another fight had already stained the canvas and I felt sick looking at it.

  "He'll bring us a victory tonight. I stopped counting the bets that were coming in. Tonight is already a delicious victory and the bell hasn't even rung on the main fight yet."

  I nodded, though I could barely breathe through the suffocating atmosphere. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind racing with thoughts of what might happen if Asher refused to fight—or worse, if he lost.

  Someone brought champagne, and even though I wanted to gulp it down, I tipped the glass to my lips and tasted just a little before I brought it down and held it in front of me. She didn't like me to overindulge. My days of drinking until I blacked out were over.

  I could barely remember that version of me.

  That version of me had been untouchable.

  "Are you ready, Sasha?" The Rose's voice was heavy with anticipation. "As soon as they clear that garbage out of the ring, it's showtime."

  She looked around the opulent viewing room and snapped her fingers at one of the uniformed Betas who stood nearby.

  "Yes, Madam?" His expression was eager, and hungry as his eyes swept over me. I wasn't wearing much. She liked to have me on display when we attended these events. I lifted my chin but didn't look at him.

  "Where is our host?" she asked.

  "He is delayed, but he will be here," he said.

  "Good," she said with a sneer. "I want him to see my fighter crush his Beta into the canvas."

  "Of course, Madam," the man replied before he returned to his post at the side of the room. My Mistress' eyes swept over the elite guests in the viewing suite.

  "I'll need something more private," she mused. She snapped her fingers at the Beta once more.

  "Yes, Madam?"

  "Inform your employer that I require a private suite to view the fight," she said.

  "At once," he said. "If you will come with me?"

  Her eyes narrowed. "You have one ready?"

  His smile was brief. "Always Madam. Mr. Avelar likes to be sure that his guests are well taken care of."

  "Take us there at once," she said. Her words were a command, and the Beta inclined his head before he walked toward the sideboard and picked up a black phone. He spoke quickly into the receiver and then nodded and hung up.

  My Mistress smiled as he opened a small cabinet and retrieved a golden key. He beckoned to us, and my Mistress took hold of my wrist and pulled me against her side. "How nice, Sasha," she said.

  "Yes, Mistress."

  I didn't want to know what she had planned. My Mistress liked an audience when she degraded me—

  A request for privacy was new.

  And I didn't like it.

  The Beta slid the key into a polished wooden door and held it open for us to walk through.

  "Please, help yourself to anything you might like," the Beta said. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to pick up the phone."

  "Very kind," my Mistress said dismissively. "Come along, Sasha."

  I ignored the way the Beta's eyes dragged over my body as I followed The Rose into the room.

  The door closed behind us and I took a breath, grateful to be away from all of the eyes that had been watching us.

  My Mistress liked it when people took notice of me. Her status was already high, but it had only risen when people found out that she had purchased an Omega...

  That my own family had sold me to her to avoid scandal.

  The memory of that betrayal was a deep wound, one that didn't like to think about more than I had to.

  My Mistress threw her purse onto a chair and shed her leather jacket, dropping it on the emerald green carpet.

  I bent to pick it up as she walked toward the viewing platform.

  "Come here, Sasha—"

  I draped her jacket over the back of a chair and walked over to the viewing platform.

  The Rose leaned forward, and her smile lit up her face in a way that I'd never seen.

  "Can you smell it, Sasha?"

  Sweat. Blood. Desperation.

  "I—"

  "Victory," she said. "Power."

  I stayed silent. I couldn't smell any of those things.

  "I wouldn't expect an Omega to understand... these are Alpha urges," she continued. She looked at me and winked. "Everything is different now. You're too young to know how things used to be."

  "Yes, Mistress," I said softly.

  A siren blared from below us, red lights flashed.

  "It's time," she said hungrily.

  Chapter 6

  Sasha

  The moment the fight began, I knew we were witnessing something extraordinary. Asher moved with the grace of a predator, his powerful muscles rippling beneath his sweat-slicked skin.

  Each strike was calculated, precise—a deadly dance that left his opponent reeling.

  "Look at him," The Rose breathed in my ear, her fingers digging into my arm. "He's absolutely savage."

  I couldn't tear my eyes from the carnage before me, even as my heart ached for him. Asher's ferocity was both thrilling and terrifying, his primal instincts unleashed in a storm of violence that sent shivers down my spine.

  And yet, despite it all, his inhibitor chip didn't hinder any of his movements, didn't make him stumble—did he feel anything?

  Any anger?

  Any joy at seeing his opponents defeated?

  "Fuck," I whispered, unable to suppress the surge of desire that welled within me as I watched him dominate the ring.

  Though I hated what he was being forced to do, there was no denying the animal magnetism that radiated from him, drawing me in like a moth to a flame.

  "Isn't it exhilarating?" The Rose purred, clearly enjoying my reaction. "To watch such raw power, such brutal beauty?"

  "Yes, Mistress," I agreed, my voice barely audible over the roaring crowd. My stomach churned, a sickening blend of lust, fear, and guilt swirling together in an ever-tightening knot.

  The fight continued with Asher gaining the upper hand, his opponent battered and bloody. The air in the arena felt heavy, suffocating, as if the very walls were closing in. And yet, through it all, Asher remained focused, determined. Calm. Eerily calm.

  "Finish him," The Rose shouted. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she watched Asher deliver the final, crushing blow.

  His opponent toppled to the canvas, bleeding and broken as Asher stood over him, chest heaving. The Beta's blood stained his chest and legs, but when Asher looked up at the viewing platform, his face was unreadable. A mask of impenetrable calm

  I stood silently at my Mistress' side and my chest tightened painfully as I watched the life drain from Asher's opponent to pool around his feet.

 

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