Owned

The crowd wanted blood.

Tae-yang could smell it on them—the sour stench of alpha aggression, the acrid tang of adrenaline, the underlying sweetness of omega fear from the fighters waiting in the wings. Three years in the pits had taught him to read a crowd by scent alone, and tonight's mob was hungry.

Good.

He was hungry too.

"Undefeated Omega!" the announcer roared over the speakers. "The Tiger of the Underground! Kang! Tae! Yang!"

Tae-yang stepped into the ring.

The concrete floor was stained with old blood—his opponents', mostly. The cage walls rose twelve feet high, topped with razor wire that glinted under the harsh fluorescent lights. Beyond the chain-link, a sea of faces pressed close, alphas and betas waving fistfuls of won, placing bets on whether tonight would finally be the night someone brought the Tiger down.

It wouldn't be.

Tae-yang had made sure of that.

His opponent tonight was a massive alpha named Guk—a former gang enforcer who'd fallen into debt with the wrong people. The man was twice Tae-yang's size, all bulging muscle and jagged scars, his scent a wall of dominance that was meant to make omegas cower.

Tae-yang didn't cower.

He hadn't cowered in three years. He wasn't about to start now.

"Begin!"

Guk lunged.

Tae-yang sidestepped, letting the alpha's momentum carry him past. His elbow connected with the man's kidney—once, twice—and then he was spinning away, light on his feet, reading the way Guk's weight shifted.

The crowd screamed.

Guk recovered faster than expected, swinging a haymaker that would have taken Tae-yang's head off if it connected. But Tae-yang was already low, driving his shoulder into the alpha's midsection, using leverage and speed to compensate for the size difference.

They went down hard.

Tae-yang's fist found Guk's throat. Once. Twice. The alpha choked, his dominance scent souring with fear, and Tae-yang felt the familiar savage satisfaction rise in his chest.

Submit, his omega instincts whispered.

He ignored them.

He always ignored them.

His knee drove into Guk's solar plexus. The alpha wheezed, going limp, and Tae-yang rose to his feet as the referee called the match.

"Winner! The Tiger remains undefeated!"

The crowd erupted. Money changed hands. Somewhere in the back, Tae-yang knew, his owner was collecting his cut—the vast majority of the winnings, while Tae-yang received only enough to keep him fed and fighting.

Three years.

Forty-seven fights.

Forty-seven wins.

And still, his debt remained.

They said he'd be free once it was paid. But the interest compounded faster than he could earn, and every time he got close, the numbers mysteriously changed. He was trapped in a system designed t...