A hush fell over the arena, tense and expectant, as if the crowd instinctively understood the stakes had just risen. The air felt heavier, every gaze pinned on Commander Malakai as he announced.
"Now entering the arena, the Supreme Alpha of the West, Henry Nightshade!"
A polite applause followed as Henry stepped out, shirtless, and clad only in dark trousers, every ripple of muscle on display. His body was a portrait of power, shaped by years of ruthless training.
Henry was undeniably a handsome man, and perhaps he would have been even more so if he ever cracked a smile. Not that it mattered to Violet. No matter how polished the outside was, his soul was pitch black, and corrupted beyond redemption.
She tore her gaze away in disgust, already nauseous, and turned toward the entrance as Malakai's voice lifted again.
"And facing him is the unpredictable and undefeated puppet master, Asher Nightshade!"
