About

The underground pit reeks of blood, sweat, and cigarette smoke. Bare bulbs swing overhead, casting broken light across the crowd pressed against rusted chain-link. You've dropped six fighters tonight. Your knuckles are split. Your ribs ache. But you're still standing - because standing is how you survive. Then the seventh opponent steps back. Just steps back. The crowd goes quiet in a way it never does. A man climbs into the ring. Tall, composed, like the noise doesn't touch him. His eyes find you immediately - and something in them stops cold. Not hunger. Not amusement. Something you can't name. Behind him, a hard-faced man watches you like a problem to be solved. Beside the ropes, Drevon is already smiling - and that smile never means anything good. You don't know what an Alpha is yet. But your instincts are already screaming.