Chapter 2

The Kill Floor was an industrial walk-in freezer at the back of the basement. Meat hooks dangled from the ceiling on rusted chains, swaying gently in the draft. The floor was grated steel over a drainage trough that had swallowed the blood of cattle for fifty years.

It was freezing. Ren’s breath plumed in the air.

He stripped off his jacket, shivering. He was five-foot-nine and built like a runner. Brick was six-five and built like a tank.

"Ren!" Silas shouted from the observation deck, a safe distance away behind a chain-link fence. "Stay mobile! He’s slow on the left!"

Ren looked up at Silas. The Alpha heir wasn't crying. He wasn't begging Brick for mercy. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, gripping the fence, his eyes shining with the vicarious thrill of the violence. He looked like a spectator at a dog fight.

*He thinks this is a game,* Ren realized. *He thinks I’m invincible.*

"Begin!" the pit boss yelled.

Brick charged.

He moved with terrifying speed for his size. Ren dodged, sliding on the frosted floor. Brick’s fist smashed into a frozen side of beef hanging from a hook, shattering the bone.

Ren slashed out with his knife, scoring a line across Brick’s bicep.

Brick didn't even flinch. He backhanded Ren, a blow that felt like being hit by a car.

Ren flew backward, slamming into the steel wall. His vision swam. He tasted copper.

"Get up, Ren!" Silas screamed. "Don't let him corner you!"

Ren scrambled to his feet just as Brick stomped the ground where his head had been. He rolled, slicing at Brick’s ankles.

The fight was ugly. It wasn't a duel; it was an execution that Ren was stubbornly refusing to attend. Brick threw him into shelves, punched him in the ribs, tossed him like a ragdoll.

Ren fought with the desperation of the damned. He fought because he knew if he died, Silas would be next.

*For him. Always for him.*

Brick caught Ren by the throat. He lifted him off the ground, squeezing. Ren kicked, his boots skidding uselessly against Brick’s torso.

"Die, little beta," Brick hissed.

Ren’s vision went black at the edges. He saw Silas through the fence. Silas looked annoyed. Worried about his debt, not his friend.

Ren’s hand flailed out. His fingers brushed a valve wheel on the wall. A steam pipe.

With the last of his strength, Ren drove his silver knife into the valve stem and wrenched it open.

*HISSSSSS.*

High-pressure steam blasted directly into Brick’s face.

The Enforcer screamed, dropping Ren. He clawed at his scalded eyes, blinding himself.

Ren hit the floor. He didn't breathe. He didn't recover. He lunged.

He jumped onto Brick’s back, driving the silver knife down into the soft spot between the Enforcer’s neck and shoulder. He twisted.

Brick roared, staggered, and fell backward.

Ren didn't let go. He rode the giant down to the concrete.

*Squelch.*

Brick thrashed once, then went still.

The silence that followed was heavy.

Ren rolled off the body. He tried to stand, but his legs gave out. He collapsed against the cold steel of the freezer wall. He looked down at his stomach.

Brick’s claws had gutted him during the clinch. The wound was deep, jagged, and pouring hot red blood onto the frosted floor.

"Ren!"

Silas came running in.

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