Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign (Worlds of the Crystal Moon, Book 1) Read Free Page B

and followed it with a crushing, right kick to his opponent’s mid-section. The kick caused the Brazilian’s ribs to burn as he took a step back.
    Again they circled. Moving in, Sam landed a leading jab, followed by another powerful left hook.
    The Brazilian countered with a jab of his own and followed it by shooting in for a takedown.
    Lifting Sam into the air, the Brazilian slammed the doctor into the mat. A barrage of punches followed as the Brazilian worked from half-guard to push Sam toward the cage.
    It was not until after a gash opened above Sam’s right eyebrow that he was able to counter the Brazilian’s weight. He threw the Brazilian off, stood and backed up while wiping the blood from his squinting eye.
    Sensing the advantage, the Brazilian followed. He led with a jab and then dove in for another takedown, but this time Sam was lucky.
    Despite the doctor’s wooziness, Sam brought up a right knee that pulverized the Brazilian’s face. Blood erupted from his nose as the Brazilian fell limp to the mat.
    Sam could smell victory—a gloriously pungent aroma emanating from the adrenaline that refueled his body. He threw his weight on his opponent and rolled him over. “I am ready for this. Don’t ever doubt me!” he hissed.
    Surrounding the Brazilian’s body with both legs, Sam listened to the crowd scream as he buried the heels of his feet into his opponent’s groin. He threw his right arm under the Brazilian’s chin, sinking it deep into his throat while Sam’s right hand cupped the inside of his left elbow to lock the hold in place. To finish the maneuver, Sam placed the upper part of his left arm behind the Brazilian’s head and squeezed with all his might.
    With a momentary breach of control, Sam’s inner demon was appeased as it stole the fighter’s sanity. “Never doubt me!” he shouted. With a wickedness he did not know existed, Sam tightened his grasp for the kill. “Die, Bastard, die!” The demon within embraced the predator Sam had become.
    Sam’s grasp was so tight, it took only seconds for the Brazilian to tap, and the fight was stopped. The doctor had just won his first fight with a rear naked choke submission—but his arms had to be pried from the Brazilian’s throat.
    As Sam rolled free, he screamed—not because he was happy about his victory, but more because the fight had been stopped, and his enjoyment of the kill had been stolen. A few more moments passed before Sam was able to rise from the mat. As he did, he appeared relaxed, though his mind was still scrambling to find the sanity he had lost to quiet the rage still pounding inside.
    The cage door opened. Jerome ran in and hoisted the doctor into the air. “You did it, bro! John-boy would be proud. C’mon, man, show the fans you love ‘em and enjoy the moment.” He dropped Sam to his feet.
    It took a second to sink in, but once Sam reclaimed control, he smiled. He knew his fame was about to take another giant leap forward, yet his mind would not allow him to stay in the moment. He wondered what this new roller coaster would be like, and because of it, he was already planning months ahead.
    Sam faced the announcer who had placed his arm around him for the interview. “That was one hell of a fight, Sam. How do you feel?”
    Sam grabbed the mic and pulled it close to his mouth. “I feel awesome!”
    The announcer laughed and then pointed to the cut on Sam’s head. “It looks like you’ll be stitching yourself up after all.”
    Sam smiled. “How did I know you were going to say that?” He looked at the camera, winked and then flexed his pecs.
    As the crowd screamed, a foreign sensation consumed Sam. Instead of the euphoria he was accustomed to, a chill spread throughout his body. Something was not right. As the interview continued, the arena faded into darkness.
    To fight the awkwardness, Sam focused on the announcer. He reached out to shake the man’s hand, but as he did, an unexpected evil happened. The announcer’s