Chapter 229

• Finn's POV
• The car growled low as it carved through the night, the city's edge bleeding into a haze of filth and neon. I slouched in the back seat, one arm slung over the leather, staring out the window as the slave market loomed closer. Its lights pulsed like a fevered heartbeat, red and sickly, casting shadows that writhed over the cracked pavement.
• We rolled up to the fighting ring, a piss-poor setup of ropes and stakes stabbed into the dirt, spotlights glaring down on the carnage. Two werewolves tore into each other, fur matted with gore, claws slashing through flesh like it was nothing. One - a scrawny bastard with desperation in his eyes - took a hit that split his muzzle wide open, blood spraying the crowd. They roared, a mix of wolves and humans drunk on violence, fists pumping the air, bets flying like spit. The taller one, a hulking brute with shoulders like a fucking ox, smashed his fist into the weaker wolf's skull. Bone crunched, loud enough I heard it over the engine's hum, and that guy dropped, twitching in a pool of his own mess. Handlers dragged him off, leaving a red smear behind.