The staging area was exactly as grim as I'd expected, a long room with benches bolted to the walls, a few punching bags hanging from the ceiling, about a dozen fighters in various states of preparation.

Some were warming up, others sat with eyes closed in meditation or prayer.

All of them radiated the controlled violence of predators preparing for battle.

I found an empty section of bench. sat down, trying to look calm while my mind raced.

I'd fought Zane hundreds of times over the past month. I'd defeated Killian, a trained mercenary.

Those had been controlled environments, without crowds, without the pressure of maintaining a false identity while...