You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 154

The cage was locked from the outside the moment they climbed in. Corbin and Mayor.

These were two dangerous men. Corbin was cold and deadly, Mayor was wild and mad. While I was sure they were individually strong, I didn't know what it looked like facing each other.

Both men warmed up, then the whistle followed.

They collided in an instant, fists snapping, kicks slicing, arms grappling for air. Corbin fought like a machine. Mayor moved riot-shaped, filling the cage with feral laughter.

Blood started painting the cage. Ribs cracked under knuckles. Fingers clawed for windpipes. They slammed each other into the iron bars until the whole cage rattled with the sound of war. This was messier than what I'd seen six weeks ago.

When the tension became too much, my eyes snapped shut, embracing the darkness which felt better than the spectacle. Still, the crowd's roars forced the images back into my mind.

One haunting thought ran through my mind: these men were tearing themselves apart for you. For your body.

When the noise shifted and became louder and heavier, I knew there was a winner.

The sickness in my gut climbed higher, up my throat, threatening to choke me with it. The crowd split—some roaring victory, others booing defeat.

I kept my eyes shut, too afraid to face whichever devil owned me now.

A hand suddenly fisted in my hair. My neck snapped back, and I yelped into the gag. Shit.

The moment I smelt him, I knew who the winner was. His words further confirmed it.

"I thought you'd have escaped by now," the victor sneered. "Looks like you're still stuck with us." My hair was yanked harder and another whimper spilled. "You're about to have a very bad night, Rali."

When he finally released me, my eyes fluttered open through the sting of tears.

They won.

The Ash Twins.

Tears blurred the sight in front of me, but still, I saw it. Corbin was right there on the floor. Lifeless.

The greater devils had won.

‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡

VOID

«Eleven Years Old.»

I leaned against the wall, waiting, watching, as she came up the stairs.

She froze when her eyes found me, then wiped beneath her nose with the back of her hand.

She said my name. "Why are you up here? Did you need something?"

She still cared about me, I knew. But it was the thin kind of care, stretched and brittle. She was detached. We both were.

She stopped beside me, right in front of her bedroom door. Her eyes were red and swollen, hinting at whatever she'd been taking, but her face stayed ironed flat like it always did.

"You didn't come home last night," I told her.

"Yeah. Was hanging out with some associates."

Men. People who had become more important than me.

She gave me a long stare before she turned the knob and started to push the door open.

"Can we play later?" I asked, halting her hand on the brass.

It'd been weeks since we last played our games.

Her lips parted. I could see it then that she'd missed it as well. But then I saw her answer before it came.

"Mama's busy. Maybe later."

She stepped through the threshold.

"Agpungtot ka kaniak." «You're mad at me.»

She stilled, her back to me.

"Adda kadi a kabaelan iti inaramidko idiay bantay?" «Does it have something to do with what I did at the mountains?»

Silence pressed on us before she finally turned. "Yes. Are you sorry for it?"

I held her eyes for a long time. I wanted to be sorry, but sorry would mean surrender, and surrender meant I'd been wrong. I couldn't give her that.

I shook my head and watched disappointment pool in her ash-grey eyes.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify