31. A MISTRESS

STORM’S P.O.V.

“You try.” I knocked Amar’s shoulder, holding back the laugh forcing it’s way through me.

The fighting ring shook as he fell down, heaving and wetting it with his sweat. A towel was thrown my way.  I wiped, but I could feel the sweat clog my pores. It had been one of the best...

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