"Contest? What are you talking about?"
This time, the smile split the lips and showcased, in their full glory, the pointed, daggerish canines. "Why the contest to stay alive. Your contract has you registered as a fighter for me."
"For how long?" Because according to rumor, even places like the Pit always had an exit clause in their contracts, usually an unreasonable one.
"You belong to me until you die, or kill a hundred."
He blinked. "That's it? I go toe to toe one hundred times, and then you'll let me go?"
"Did I mention, in the century since we started, not a single warrior has killed one hundred?"
"I love a good challenge. Bring it." He rolled his shoulders and cracked his fingers.
Laughter, rich in tenor and yet cold enough to make him shiver, rang out. "So eager to march into
