We waited for Damon to enter the ring.
I was inside while Blaise loitered around the entrance to give me moral support. By right, he was supposed to leave for the audience seats while I waited for Damon to arrive, but since Blaise was the second-highest-ranking werewolf in the pack, there was no one who could make him go. I was thankful for his presence.
I was half-hoping that Damon wouldn't show up, granting me an automatic victory, but that was a near-impossible wish. I had a feeling even if Damon had all his limbs broken, he would still hobble all the way to the arena to defeat me― because that was what I would do.
If there was anything about us that was a perfect fit, it would be how stubborn we both were. That was evident enough even in the mere few days I had known him.
The sun crept higher in the sky, causing beads of sweat to form on my temples. The crowd pointed at me and jeered, loudly making bets about how long I would last in the arena.
