The heat from the torches pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating, but I kept moving. My horns caught the flickering firelight as I shifted, casting sharp shadows across the floor. The demon in front of me twitched, looking for an opening I wouldn’t give him. His breathing quickened, shallow and panicked. I focused on the sound, the hitch in his breath giving him away. He was going to lunge. Every breath burned, every muscle ached, but the crowd didn’t care. They just wanted blood.

  I circled my opponent, keeping my steps light, controlled. My white hair fall down my back, plastered to my pale skin, the sheen of sweat making me glow under the torchlight.

  The sand beneath my feet was stained with old blood, kicked up with every step. The walls echoed with the combined roars and jeers of humans and demons alike. Some were here for the sport, others for the spectacle of seeing demons hurt. I could give them both.

  The demon across from me didn’t say a word. He trembled, sweat pooling along his brow, his hands shaking around his fists. No taunts, no bravado, just pure fear. A lesser fighter. This wasn’t going to be fun.

  He finally lunged, a clumsy, wild swing aiming at my head.

  I didn’t flinch. My body moved before I thought, sidestepping with ease, letting his momentum carry him forward. I pivoted on my heel, bringing my knee up into his side. The crack of bone echoed through the arena. Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by wild cheers.

  I didn’t stop. The crowd didn’t want mercy.

  I grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed my fist into his chin. His head snapped back, eyes rolling before he crumpled into the sand, unconscious. Silence hovered for a breath.

  Then the arena erupted. Cheers, stomping feet, fists pounding against metal railings. I twirled in the centre of the ring, arms wide, letting the sound wash over me. I climbed onto the ropes, towering over the nearest section of the crowd and stretched my arms high, horns gleaming in the light.

  The crowd ate it up. They wanted the show, and I gave it to them. I pointed at one man in the front row—his mouth agape, still staring at the unconscious body behind me—and blew him a kiss. He flinched, but the people around him howled with laughter.

  Meanwhile, attendants hurried into the ring, slipping through the ropes as they lifted the downed demon onto a stretcher. He groaned faintly, head lolling to the side, but he wasn’t waking up anytime soon. The crowd barely noticed, they were too busy watching me. I pretended not to notice the stretcher pass by, still playing to the front rows.

  Once the ring was cleared, I strutted back to the centre, twirling again for good measure. My violet and silver fight gear shimmered beneath the light. Jacobi’s house colours. A reminder of what I was here for. Houses were just fancy words for what they really were: demon stables. Houses trained us, owned us. Some made fighters. Some made whores. Jacobi? He liked his stock versatile.

  I glanced at the crowd, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, ‘Should I?’

  They roared their approval.

  I took a dramatic step back, mimicking the demon’s final stumble, arms flailing wildly. I let my body go slack and crumpled to the sand in an exaggerated heap, limbs splayed awkwardly, eyes half-lidded and tongue poking out. Laughter echoed through the arena, rippling like a wave. I held the pose for a beat before springing back to my feet, arms raised high.

  “What? Too soon?” I called out, grinning widely as the crowd cheered even louder.

  The referee grabbed my wrist and lifted it high. “Victory to Joy!”

  I bounced on my heels, letting the noise wash over me, the crackle of torches, the faint rustle of coins changing hands. The crowd buzzed in anticipation, their energy sinking into my bones. I flexed my fingers rolling out my shoulders, feeding off it.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Selwyn, grinning wide, waving his arms like a kid at a festival. You’d never guess he was the older of the two.

  Jacobi stood beside him, arms crossed, jaw tight, his usual statue self. No smile, no wave. Just that sharp focused stare, watching every move I made.

  I strolled to the edge of the ring, leaning against the ropes as if I had all the time in the world.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got next for me! I’m just getting started!” I called out, my voice cutting through the noise.

  On my cue, the announcer’s voice echoed across the arena.

  “And now… a crowd favourite! The Iron Fist herself… Brianna!”

  The roar shifted, almost palpable, as Brianna stepped into the ring, her massive frame casting a long shadow on the sand. The crowd loved her, brutal, relentless, and known for giving the audience the kind of messy fights they lived for.

  I grinned, bouncing from foot to foot, sizing her up.

  This was going to be fun.

  Brianna towered even over me, her red hair pulled back tight between her horns, though strands were already sticking to her flushed face.

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  “Well, Joy. You ready to actually fight this time?” Brianna sneered, rolling her shoulders.

  I smirked, stepping forward. “I thought I already did. Didn’t you see that last one?”

  “That wasn’t a fight. That was a mercy killing. You’ve still got energy, I’ll fix that.”

  “Oh, darling, I’m just getting started.”

  The crowd roared with approval, eating up every word. Brianna stomped forward, closing any gap between us.

  “After this, you’ll be begging Jacobi to pull you out of the ring.”

  I tilted my head, pretending to think. “Hmm, tempting. But I don’t beg.”

  The referee barely shouted “Fight!” before Brianna moved.

  Her first swing came hard, aimed at my head. I ducked, but she was relentless, her fists a blur. One punch clipped my jaw, snapping my head sideways. Pain shot through my cheek, but I gritted my teeth and kept moving.

  I circled, staying light on my feet, waiting for an opening. Brianna’s strength was impressive, but she was heavy-handed, leaving gaps in her defence.

  “Move faster, princess!” Brianna taunted, throwing another punch.

  I ducked under it, my fit slamming into her ribs. “You talk too much.”

  She grunted but barely staggered. Her return punch hit my side, right where my ribs had already taken a beating earlier. Before I could recover, she swung again, her fist landing square over my chest, right above my heart. The impact sent a jolt through me, stealing my breath for a moment. A sharp ache bloomed beneath my sternum, deep and lingering, but I forced myself to stay upright, gritting my teeth against the pain. I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the throb beneath my skin.

  Selwyn’s voice cut through the noise. “Come on, Joy! Show her who’s boss!”

  I grinned. That was exactly the plan.

  Brianna charged again, this time trying to grab me. I twisted, letting her momentum pull her forward, and slammed my knee into her gut. She doubled over for a second, just long enough.

  I hooked my arm around her thick neck and leapt onto her back, locking my legs around her waist. My forearm pressed under her chin as I tightened my grip. She thrashed wildly, fists slamming into my sides. Each hit sent fresh jolts of pain through my ribs, but I held on, muscles burning.

  “Go down.” I hissed into her ear.

  Her struggles slowed, her fists weaker. The crowd roared louder, sensing the end.

  The referee moved in, ready to stop it.

  With one last squeeze, Brianna’s body slumped, and the referee tapped my shoulder.

  I let go, gasping, and rolled off her, chest heaving. My arms trembled, but I forced myself up, staggering slightly. The referee lifted my wrist high.

  “Victory to Joy!”

  The crowd exploded into cheers, their energy flooding through me. I raised both arms, ignoring the sharp throb in my ribs, and basked in their attention.

  I did a slow lap around the ring, soaking in the applause. Selwyn was laughing, clapping wildly from the sidelines. Jacobi, of course, was still stone-faced, but I didn’t care. The crowd was on fire.

  Selwyn jogged to the ropes, pulling them apart as Jacobi approached, his boots crunching softly through the sand. I tuned in, letting the sound cut through the noise of the arena. The crowd’s cheers softened, the thrum of energy faded, until there was only the slow, deliberate sound of Jacobi walking. The heavy rhythm of his steps.

  He ducked between the ropes, Selwyn letting them fall shut behind him, and the faint snap of the leather echoed in the air. It was nothing compared to Jacobi’s boots grinding against the sand as he crossed the ring to my side. He didn’t rush. His focus stayed locked on me the entire time, like the rest of the world wasn’t even there. It was suffocating and grounding all at once.

  His arm snaked around my waist as he stood beside me, turning me to face the crowd as he leaned in to murmur.

  “You’ve got their attention, no doubt. But if all they see is a killer, no one’s going to pay for a night with you. They want a fantasy, not a death sentence.”

  A killer.

  The crowd didn’t know, but he did. He always knew exactly where to strike. So, he wanted vulnerability? My smile faltered, just for a second, as a took a step back from him, my hand brushing over my chest. A dull ache pulsed beneath my ribs, where Brianna had landed that solid hit. I pressed harder, wincing. The pain wasn’t deep, not really, but it was enough to work with.

  Perfect.

  I let the moment linger, just long enough for him to notice. His eyes flicked to my hand, his brow tightening, but his expression was unreadable. I swayed slightly, exaggerating the weakness, my breath coming in a little shallower, more forced.

  The weight of his gaze pressed into me, but I refused to meet up. Instead, I exhaled softly, letting my knees buckle with practiced grace. As I fell, I focused on the sounds around me, the sudden hush in the crowd, the sharp whispers, the scuffle of feet against the sand. Selwyn’s breath hitched, unmistakable. The confusion in the arena was palpable. My body folded neatly as I sank to the mat, my hand still over my chest as if I’d been struck too hard.

  For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then the crowd’s confused murmurs rose, unsure if this was part of the act, or something real.

  “Joy?”

  Jacobi’s voice cut through the noise, softer than I expected. There was something about it. Hesitation? Concern? It almost made me open my eyes, but I kept them shut, focus on my breathing, shallow and slow.

  I heard his boots scuff against the sand, felt him step closer. His mask slipped for the briefest moment.

  “Get her to the doctor!” Jacobi ordered, his voice sharper now, back in control, but the crack had been there. I’d heard it.

  A sharp click echoed through the arena, followed by the heavy thud as the loosened ring ropes dropped against the sand. A safety precaution. They always had a way to get to the fighters quickly if something went wrong. And with demons, that happened often.

  Selwyn’s boots pounded across the sand, louder and quicker now. He didn’t wait for the attendants. I felt him drop to his knees beside me, his hands warm as they brushed my shoulder, careful but urgent.

  “Joy?” Hey, come on.” His voice cracked with worry. “You’re alright, right?”

  I had to fight the urge to smile. Then I felt it - Selwyn’s arms sliding beneath me, lifting me effortlessly off the sand. For a second, real surprise flickered through me. I wasn’t a small demon, but he scooped me up like I weighed nothing. I’d never thought of him as particularly strong, gentle, but this?

  His chest was warm against my side, the steady thud of his heartbeat louder than I expected. I let my head loll against his shoulder. There was a strange comfort in the way he held me. Secure. Solid. Not something I was used to feeling.

  Footsteps echoed around us—attendants clearing the path as Selwyn carried me through the lowered ropes. I caught the faint whispers of the crowd, some still trying to figure out if it had been real.

  I let the faintest smirk tug at my lips.

  Selwyn’s arms tightened around me, and I felt his breath against my temple, his voice filled with both relief and exasperation.

  “I knew it. You little shit.”

  I wanted to laugh, but there was something else that had settled in my chest. It was… nice. Being held like this. Safe, even if it was part of the act.

  “You’re lucky he didn’t lose it in front of everyone,” Selwyn added, his voice softer now. “But don’t push him too far, Joy. You know how he gets.”

  I did. That’s why I kept pushing.