Confusion clouded my mind. I knew that even with Durov dead there’d still be an heir, but I couldn’t picture who?

A hammer on the door told me that it was time. It was time to take Durov down.

Rolling my neck from side to side, I loosened my shoulders and walked to the bench to pick up my knuckledusters. I slid them in place, the cold metal feeling like an extended part of me.

The roaring of the crowd grew louder, my feet rocked from side to side. I closed my eyes and visualized winning. Visualized Durov beneath me, bearing the brunt of my fatal blows. Visualized the moment that his eyes lost life and his black heart stopped.

“You ready, Raze?”

I blinked my focus back to the here and now. Viktor stood in front of me.

I nodded my head.

I was more than fucking ready to end Durov’s life. I was twelve years ready. This was twelve years overdue.

The steel door opened and I followed Viktor out into the dank, musty hallway. I could hear that the volume of the crowd had increased from previous matches, telling me how excited they were for this championship final. I could tell by the dust falling from the stoned walls of the hallway that more spectators were here than ever before, the stamping of their feet vibrating along the long hallway.

My skin burned with adrenaline as I rocked from side to side on the balls of my feet, dressed in my fighting black shorts, Eye Black under my eyes, my heart pumping vengeance through every vein.

Lights from The Dungeon suddenly filled the mouth of the hallway and I stilled at the entrance, just drinking in the biggest crowd I’d ever seen. The crowd, filled with criminals, gamblers and worse, all screamed in my direction. I couldn’t make out what they were shouting, my focus slamming to the heavily lit cage, Durov stood dead center of the octagon, his image drowning everything else out.

Chest heaving, I could hear the echo of my breathing in my ears, feel the too-fast pounding of my heart in my chest. Every muscle in my body twitched in excitement; I trained them hard for this—every single fight I’d fought was in preparation for this moment. I rubbed my palm across my stomach, across my kill inkings.

Every single kill was in preparation for this moment.

My palm ran over last night’s kill. Goliath… 362… my friend… and my eyes closed.

Lifting my eyes to the rafters, I briefly closed them, sending a promise to 362, wherever he now may be. I will get my revenge for you too… brother.

The clinking sound of metal upon metal pulled my attention. Durov had his crazed eyes fixed on mine, pacing along the edge of the cage like a psycho, his muscled body dripping with sweat, his nostrils flaring and his dagger dragging along the sides of the cage.

My lips curled over my teeth in anger, in bloodlust for this fucker who had robbed me of my life. A hand slapped on my shoulder and glancing down to my left from the corner of my eye, Viktor was staring up at me.

“Your time has come, Raze. Take it. Seize your fate.”

Taking in a deep breath, drinking in his words, my legs began pushing forward down the concrete pathway, hundreds of hands slapping on my back; but I only had one target, and right now he was cracking his neck, turning his dagger in his hands, his eyes blazing with fury.

A Byki saw my approach, opening the cage door and I dived into the ring, storming straight for Durov. Durov’s eyes flared with the excitement of the charge, his corded neck bulging as he braced for my tackle.

There was no time for the firing of the gun.

No time for any introduction. This was personal, this was two enraged monsters fighting to the death.

Using my speed and larger size to my advantage, I wrapped my arms around Durov’s waist and tackled him to the ground, a rush of adrenaline filling me as his back smashed on the hard cage floor. Durov’s arms were iron around my back, forcing a grapple on the ground, both fighting for dominance.

Gaining the upper hand, I reared up, slamming a spiked fist into his shoulder. My blade pierced his skin, but the fucker still kept coming like I never even got in a hit. Jerking his legs, he forced me onto my back, my hand losing grip on his sweat-ridden biceps. In a flash, Alik had raised his dagger and plunged it down, but I managed to roll at the very last second, his steel blade scraping the floor.

Using my feet, I kicked him onto his back, launching my body on top of him, slamming his wrists above his head. Durov’s psycho gaze met mine and I could see the hatred in his eyes… my memories telling me that I’d had this look off him many times before.

Alik fought with everything that he had, but my grip was too strong, his weakening shoulder shedding blood from where I’d pierced him with my blade. I stared down at Durov and squeezed at his wrists, Durov’s teeth gritting so hard that I heard a loud crack coming from his molars.

Leaning forward, I spat, “I’m going to fucking kill you, Durov.”

Durov held his breath, and his face turned bright red; the evidence of his rage. “I’m finally going to get my revenge.”

“Your revenge?” he asked, every vein protruding from his skin. “Your motherfucking revenge?”

My jaw clenched and I leaned in closer still. Alik was watching me, trying to wrench his arms from my hold. But I wasn’t letting this fucker go.

“Look at me,” I ordered.

Alik’s good shoulder lifted to a point that it almost popped out of its socket, but I slammed my head against his, Durov’s head falling back to the floor. Durov glared at me and I knew the fucker was imagining how to murder me. But this fight wasn’t going anywhere until he knew who he was facing, or at least, the shadow of the boy he once ruined.