Ronan wrapped his arms around Mikael's middle, driving him backwards. Thinking quickly, Mikael braced his hands on the male's shoulders and planted his feet into the ground, waiting for him to stop pushing. The moment he felt a lapse in Ronan's force, he shot his leg forward and jerked one of Ronan's out from under him.

Ronan collapsed but kicked the back of Mikael's knees. He went down and Ronan flipped on top of him, throwing dirt into Mikael's eyes in the process. Pain blossomed through his jaw as Ronan threw a solid punch. Mikael thrust up with his hips, throwing Ronan off balance, and kicked the Peregryn over his head.

Mikael flipped onto his feet, shaking coarse dirt from his wings. Ronan rounded on him, teeth bared in a snarl. From the corner of his eye, Mikael saw Estelle struggling to reach him. Ameer had a tight hold on her arm. Her shadows were coiled and ready to strike. Umbra was clenching Mikael's arm almost painfully.

Mikael blinked, returning his focus to the fight. He yelped and dove beneath Ronan's outstretched fist. Mikael landed a sharp jab to Ronan's side. Breath hissed between Ronan's teeth and he snapped a wing out, knocking Mikael down again. Mikael rolled as Ronan attempted to stomp a foot into his gut.

Magic burned through Mikael's veins, begging to be released, but he kept a tight hold on it. The Vendetta had to be won according to the rules. There was too much at stake for him to ignore even the smallest one. He had completed the Rite, proving himself to be a warrior. Now, he had to win the Vendetta as one.

If he lost, he would die. Thesan would have no heir. Both of his fathers would lose a son. Calden, Celeste, and Sienna would lose a friend, a brother. And Estelle... Mikael couldn't bear to think of what pain his death would cause her. He had only one option. He had to win. He had to win the right way. He had to kill Ronan, or force him to surrender.

"Why don't you make this easier for yourself and just yield?" Ronan sneered. "We both know who the better warrior is. It certainly isn't you. You've always been a weak, pathetic scholar. You prefer books and your father's lap over grueling training and hard work."

"I have worked harder in one day of my life than you will work in a hundred of yours," Mikael spat. "I have learned from books. I have learned from mentors. I have learned from experience. I have learned from pain and sweat and tears."

"You know nothing of pain."

Ronan threw another punch, but Mikael caught it. "Don't I?" He grunted, struggling to hold Ronan's fist back. "You were the one who taught me about pain! I learned what pain was when you broke my arm and ripped out my feathers. When you chained me to a tree, tight enough that my ankles bled. When you left me in that forest, hoping my blood would attract a predator to kill me when you couldn't!"

"I learned about pain when you taunted me, calling me a bastard and my parents whores. That's when I learned what I was. I learned pain when you disrespected my father, my friends, my MATE, because of what I am! I know what pain is. I've suffered plenty of it."

"You've never suffered!" Ronan roared. He pulled his fist back and kicked Mikael's stomach. Mikael doubled over, retching. Ronan grabbed him by the shoulders, driving his knee into Mikael's gut again and again. Mikael vomited. Ronan's knee collided with his jaw and he tasted blood. The world spun before his eyes. Ronan threw him on the ground.

Mikael shook his head, trying to refocus his vision. Ronan climbed on top of him, wrapping his hands around Mikael's throat. Mikael gasped for breath, flapping his wings instinctively and clawing at Ronan's hands.

"You have had everything handed to you, your entire life!" Ronan screamed, lifting Mikael by the throat, then slamming his head back into the ground. Mikael wheezed, his chest tightening from lack of air. He could hear people screaming all around them. He couldn't tell if they were cheering for Ronan, or screaming in fear for him.

"You've never had to fight for affection. For friends. For a place in your own home!" Ronan's palms dug into his throat, restricting his airflow further. Mikael tried to think past the fog in his mind. He knocked his knee into Ronan's back, but Ronan didn't loosen his grip.

Umbra was pulling on Mikael's arm desperately. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. His vision was growing dim. Mikael felt his grasp weaken around Ronan's wrists. The Mating Bond was strung taut in his chest. A scream cut above the others. It was Estelle. She was screaming something. His name.

Mikael forced his eyes open and managed to spot her through his distorted vision. She was trying to fight her way to him again. Both Ameer and Thesan held onto her, their own faces distraught as they yelled at him. Tears streamed down Estelle's cheeks. She wrenched an arm free from Ameer's grasp, reaching towards Mikael. Her screams were loud in his mind as they poured over the strained Bond.

If he died now, he would be leaving her behind. His mate. They hadn't even been officially mated yet. Estelle screamed louder, her voice breaking. There was such pain on her beautiful features. Such cruel agony flooding the Mating Bond. His mate. His mate. His mate. Ronan would not take him from his mate!

Mikael forced his hands away from Ronan's wrists and stabbed his fingers into the male's eyes. Ronan screamed with pain, releasing him. Mikael rolled onto his side, gasping for breath. His lungs ached with relief as he sucked down deep breaths. He managed to push himself onto his hands and knees as Ronan stormed towards him.

Mikael stood shakily, reforming his hands into fists. Ronan's eyes were red and irritated. One of them was ringed in black and blood had welled up in the corner of it. Estelle was sobbing beyond the ring. The sound ignited burning fury in Mikael's gut.

"I may not have had to fight for those things," he growled, "but I sure as hell have fought for others!" They began trading rapid kicks and punches again. "I have fought my entire life to be seen as an equal! To be seen as a worthy son, Heir, and future High Lord! I have fought to be seen for who I am, not as a bastard! I have fought for respect! For trust! For support!"

Mikael grabbed Ronan by the base of his wings and threw him onto the ground. "I don't know what you have faced, but I am not your scapegoat! I do not exist just to make you feel better about your own miserable life! I used to admire you, Ronan. I used to respect you. I used to want to be like you! I would've been your friend if you had let me, but you didn't! And here we stand, trying to kill each other over nothing!"

Ronan bellowed and lunged at him. Mikael kicked him down again, his heart racing with adrenaline. Ronan shifted onto his knees. Mikael grabbed him by the shirt and socked him in the jaw. He drove his knee into the male's chin, then slammed his other fist into Ronan's throat. Ronan dropped down to his hands and knees, coughing. Blood dribbled from his mouth. Mikael hovered over him, hands shaking.

Ronan stared up at him, anger burning in his gold eyes. "Do it, you bastard! Break my neck! Strangle me!"

Mikael backed away, his chest heaving. "Surrender. I won't kill you in a pointless fight."

"You will never kill anyone! You're weak! Pathetic! You are an insult to the Peregryns. To High Fae. To the Dawn Court! You don't deserve to exist!" Ronan seethed.

"Surrender," Mikael repeated. "You will not die today."

"You're no warrior if you can't take even one life!"

"Real warriors know better than to take a life in vain. You don't kill because you can. You kill because you have to. Right now, I don't have to. I don't need to. You are defeated, Ronan. Live with that shame."

Mikael spun on his heel, his head aching with exhaustion. His limbs seemed to be made of lead. He was gradually becoming aware of several bruises and blood soaked gashes that he hadn't noticed before. Dirt scuffled behind him. "Mikael!" Estelle cried out, prying herself free from Thesan and Ameer. She vanished from sight.

Mikael spun in time to see her reappear behind him, wings shielding him as her shadows speared through Ronan. He dropped a dagger onto the dirt, staring at the wraiths that impaled his body. Blood leaked from the wounds, wetting the ground. Ronan lifted his head weakly.

Estelle grabbed his face by the chin, her amber eyes molten with rage. "I warned you, Ronan. Mikael held your life in his hands. He gave it to you, but you threw it away. I am not as forgiving as my mate." Her hand moved down to his throat. Ronan glared at her. "It is you who does not deserve to exist!" She hissed. Mikael flinched, hearing a loud crack. The light faded from Ronan's eyes and Estelle dropped him, retracting the shadows.

She rounded on Mikael, cupping his face in her hands. "Are you all right?" Estelle tilted his head from side to side, taking in his injuries. She smoothed hair from his damp forehead, tears lining her eyes.

"I'm fine, Batsy," he whispered, his throat raw. Mikael rubbed the base of his neck ruefully. "I don't think I'll ask you to choke me anytime soon though."

Estelle gave him a look that he determined meant she either wanted to slap or kiss him. She pulled him into a tight embrace, pressing kisses to his cheek and neck. Mikael hugged her back, threading his fingers through her hair.

"Never do that again," she murmured, her voice thick with smothered sobs. "Never." Warm tears dripped onto his neck.

"I promise," Mikael replied. He held her a while longer, until his legs were threatening to give out beneath him, and his head spun unbearably. "Estelle, I'm going to fall over."

She kept her arm around him, offering herself as support while they hobbled out of the training ring, heading towards his fathers. Mikael's dizziness grew even worse. He tripped over his own feet, but Estelle kept a tight hold on him.

His vision grew fuzzy and sounds became muffled. Mikael's grip slackened. "Never mind," he rasped. "I'm going to faint." They took another step and darkness swept over him, almost before he felt himself collapse, dragging Estelle down with him.