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Tore

Roman froze.

The arena erupted as a whistle tore through the air.

“Victory is declared!” the announcer’s voice boomed, echoing off the walls. “Roman Hale stands triumphant! Lucas Hale has yielded!”

Roman released Lucas as if he’d been burned.

He stumbled back, his own legs finally giving out beneath him.

The crowd roared his name.

ROMAN!

ROMAN!

ROMAN!

He collapsed into the floor, his chest rising and falling as if he’d just dragged himself back from the edge of ...

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