63. Brutal (Clay POV)

I took each step toward the pit deliberately, as if trying to slow down time itself.

Every crunch of gravel beneath my boots was a metronome, counting the seconds to the inevitable conflict. The crowd that gathered sounded like a storm, a constant hum of voices rolling like thunder, punctuated by the occasional laughter or sharp words like a lightning flash.

Yet, my thoughts were an intricate maze of strategy. Each calculated movement, every imaginable maneuver or lunge, unfurled in my mind like a well-choreographed dance. Then, Lexi's voice broke through, her question about her surname like a ripple in a still pond, disrupting my concentration.

The Council had inquired what name Lexi should carry. I had impulsively decided to keep her name, questioning whether she'd even want to be a Carmichael. In that instant, hearing her voice filled with playful disappointment, a wave of regret washed over me. I'd made a choice for her without asking, underestimating her readiness to be part of