I could already taste blood in the back of my throat. A split lip, probably. I didn’t remember when it happened. Everything inside the cage felt like a blur—screaming steel, echoing boots, and fists flying faster than I could track. Cody was at my side, sweat dripping from his brow, eyes locked on John Cena as if nothing else existed. We were both bleeding, bruised, aching. But neither of us was backing down. Not when we still had people coming. Not when our people still needed us. Then I heard it.
BZZZZZZZZZT.
The gate opened. Becky Lynch stormed the cage like a force of nature, that familiar manic glint in her eyes. And in her hand—oh hell no—was a barbed wire bat. “Seriously?” I muttered, gripping the ropes for balance.
Cody winced. “That’s never a good sign.”
Becky didn’t waste time. She slid the bat in first, then ducked under the ropes and immediately went for me. “You just don’t know when to quit,” she snarled, swinging the bat straight for my midsection. I barely twisted away in time. The barbs caught my jacket and tore it clean through, scratching the skin beneath.
“I could say the same to you,” I spat, lunging at her. We collided like two storms, trading fists, slaps, and screams. I caught her wrist mid-swing, forced the bat away, and delivered a sharp knee to her gut. She grunted but retaliated with a headbutt that sent me stumbling. Cody was shouting somewhere—probably at Cena—but I couldn’t focus on him now.
Becky went low, tackled me against the corner post, and the cage rattled as my spine slammed into cold steel. My ears rang. I could feel warm blood trickling down my side now. I didn’t even know where it came from. That damn bat had kissed me somewhere. I elbowed Becky hard, shoved her back, and dove for the bat. If she wanted to play dirty, fine. I could dig into that part of myself too. Just as I wrapped my fingers around the handle—
BZZZZZZZZZT.
Bianca. She hit the ring like a rocket, long braid whipping behind her like a living weapon. She clotheslined Becky mid-run, then dropkicked Nia so hard he hit the steel wall and bounced. “HEY!” Bianca shouted, grinning as she tossed a chair over to me. “Thought you could use some backup!”
I caught it, spun it like a baton, and nodded. “Appreciate you, queen!”
But I didn’t get long to enjoy the assist. Nia caught me from behind, yanked me by the hair, and slammed me into the turnbuckle. Stars exploded behind my eyes. I dropped the chair, barely registering it clattering to the mat. Nia sneered, raising her forearm—until I grabbed the ropes and pulled myself to the side just in time. She struck steel instead. I threw myself into a spear, driving my shoulder into her gut, but it was like slamming into a brick wall. She didn’t even flinch.
“Oh, you gotta be kidding—” I started, but then she backhanded me across the face. My vision went white-hot for a second. I dropped to one knee, spitting blood.
“You’re in over your head, little girl,” Nia said, looming.
“Story of my life,” I coughed, and headbutted her right in the sternum. She gasped—more in shock than pain—and I used the moment to hook her leg and slam her down with a desperation DDT. I turned back to Cody—only to see him get slammed by The Rock into the steel mesh between the rings.
“Cody!” I shouted, running to him, ducking under Cena’s arm as he tried to catch me. He was on his knees, shaking off the hit, blood trickling from his forehead now.
“I’m good,” he mumbled, breathless.
“No, you’re not,” I said, kneeling beside him. “But neither am I. So we suck it up together.”
He smirked at that, reached out, and clapped his hand on my shoulder. “That’s why you’re my favorite.”
“I know,” I said, eyes flicking up to the clock.
BZZZZZZZZT.
Oh no. Jacob. That sadistic smirk was the first thing I saw as he walked into the cage, steel chain in hand. He sauntered, like he had all the time in the world, like he was here to enjoy the pain more than win. I grabbed a stray kendo stick from the floor and charged him before he could pick a target. “Angel,” Cody warned.
“I got this,” I said—maybe lying a little. The kendo stick cracked across Jacob’s chest once, twice. On the third swing, he caught it mid-air, yanked it from my hand, and punched me across the face so hard I spun into the ropes. Blood filled my mouth again. I barely had time to react before he looped the chain around my arm and pulled, hard, dragging me toward him.
“Miss me?” he asked, almost sweet.
I spat blood on his boot. “Not even a little.”
He swung the chain like a whip—it tore across my back, opening a line of fire. I screamed, dropped to one knee, but then Cody was there—my best friend—tackling Jacob with a roar that echoed through the arena. The two of them slammed into the mat, fists flying, chain clinking. I could barely stand, but I crawled toward them, ready to help, when a hand touched my back. “Don’t push too far,” Cody warned, glancing back at me. “You’re bleeding bad.”
“I always bleed,” I snapped, panting. “They’re bleeding too. That’s what matters.”
He gave me a look—half exasperated, half proud. “One of these days, you’re gonna realize you’re worth saving too.”
I couldn’t respond—not yet.
BZZZZZZZZT.
LA Knight entered the ring like a man on fire, leaping into action immediately. He cracked a trash can over Jacob’s head, then turned and laid The Rock out with a neckbreaker. The tide shifted. Finally. Becky and Bianca were now brawling like warriors, and Cena had Cody again—this time into the ropes. I staggered to my feet, ribs screaming, and picked up a steel chair. I swung it at Becky, who was trying to choke Bianca with a piece of her braid. The crack echoed as Becky went down. “You okay?” I asked Bianca, grabbing her hand.
“I’ve had worse hair days,” she said, grinning through bloodied lips. I turned just in time to catch The Rock’s eyes across the ring. He was stalking toward me again, chain in hand, calm and collected as if this was just another day in the office.
“Oh, I am so done with you,” I growled. He swung the chain. I ducked and rushed him, but he sidestepped and caught me with a spinebuster. Pain cracked down my back again. I rolled, gasping, and tried to stand—but he wrapped the chain around my ankle and yanked.
“Not so fast,” he muttered.
“Eat sh—!”
Before I could finish, Cody flew in from the top rope, crashing down on Rock with a missile dropkick that tore him off me. He immediately knelt beside me. “How bad is it?”
“Pain’s just motivation,” I rasped. “I’ve had worse.”
“I know,” he said, helping me up. “But not on my watch.”
Then Cena pulled him away again. Everything was chaos. Blood on the mat. Weapons everywhere. Becky slammed Bianca with a kendo stick until it snapped in half. LA Knight took a face full of chair from Jacob. Nia body-slammed Randy the second he entered the ring, but he rose like a revenant and dropped her with a hanging DDT on the steel plate. I kept moving.
Every time one of my people went down, I ran to help. When Cody got whipped into a corner, I intercepted Cena with a chair to the back. When LA Knight was nearly choked out, I wrapped my chain around Jacob’s arm and yanked him away. I wasn’t fighting for victory. I was fighting for them. Barbed wire tore into my ribs during a scuffle with Becky. Blood ran down my side, my breathing labored. I heard Cody shout my name again, voice thick with worry.
“Angel!”
“I’m fine!” I shouted, even as the pain made my knees wobble. His eyes met mine across the ring—wild, desperate, proud. And I knew. No matter what else happened, as long as we were both still breathing… we’d never let each other fall. Because that’s what you do for the people you love. Even in hell.
He grinned. “Still standing?”
I smirked back. “You bet your dumb haircut I am.”
“You’re literally dripping blood!”
“I said I’m fine!”
He barked a laugh and turned, hurling Cena through the ropes like a sack of potatoes.
It felt like the war would never end. Twenty brutal, blood-soaked minutes. That’s how long it took. One by one, everyone fell—some with a fight, some dragged out barely conscious, others refusing to go until they were physically broken. I helped every single one of my teammates I could. Shielded Bianca. Pulled Cody out of a chokehold. Took hits meant for LA Knight. And now, as the cage felt like it was closing in, all that remained was me… Cody… and The Rock.
I was on my knees, blood dripping down my side, chest heaving, vision blurred from a mix of sweat and pain. Every muscle in my body was screaming, and I was barely holding on. My fingers trembled as I tried to stand again, and I felt a hand grip my shoulder. “Angel,” Cody’s voice was low, worried. “You’ve done enough. I’ll handle him.”
I shook my head. No. Not a chance. Not now. “Don’t you even think about it,” I panted, forcing myself to my feet. “We’re in this together. You and me. I don’t care if I have to crawl—I’m not letting you face him alone.”
He let out a breath, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, and gave me that look—equal parts frustration, affection, and bone-deep respect. “You are the most stubborn human being I’ve ever met.”
I smirked. “And yet you still hang out with me.”
“Well, I figure if the apocalypse ever hits, I want the person with the highest pain tolerance on my side.”
“I’d make a great Mad Max, admit it.”
Before he could respond, that smug, arrogant voice cut through the silence like a dagger. “You two done with your little therapy session?” The Rock sneered, twirling the chain lazily around one hand. “Or do I need to remind you how this ends?”
Cody rolled his eyes. “See what I mean? Guy can’t go five seconds without hearing himself talk.”
I cracked my neck. “Guess it’s time to shut him up, then.”
We didn’t need to say anything else. Cody and I looked at each other one more time—that wordless best friend glance we’ve shared a hundred times in a hundred battles. I saw everything in his eyes: concern, faith, fire. I hoped he saw the same in mine. Then we charged. The Rock swung the chain, wild and fast. Cody ducked. I caught it on my forearm and yanked, making him stumble forward—and that was all the opening we needed.
We moved like one. Cody wrapped an arm around The Rock’s waist as I hooked his legs. Our backs screamed in protest. My ribs felt like they were going to crack. But with a combined roar, we lifted him—suplexed him. Together. The cage shook with the impact as The Rock hit the mat hard, dazed. I didn’t stop. Pure instinct took over. I grabbed the chain off the floor, wrapped it around my fists, and whipped it across his chest once—CRACK—he roared. Twice—CRACK—his arms flailed. A third time—CRACK—and he rolled, gasping. Cody didn’t miss a beat. He dove onto The Rock’s chest, hooked the leg, and the ref slammed his hand down.
“One! Two! Three!”
The bell rang. The crowd erupted. We won. We actually won. But everything inside me gave out at once. I stumbled, barely able to lift my head as the steel cage door opened and the medics rushed in. Cody caught me before I hit the ground. “Angel—hey, stay with me. Stay with me.” His voice was close, panicked, but steady in that Cody way.
I forced a weak smile through cracked lips. “Did we win?”
He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, we did. You were amazing.”
My body screamed as he helped me walk. Every step felt like broken glass. I managed to make it through the ropes and out of the cage, just past the threshold where the rest of our team stood waiting—and then my legs collapsed from under me. Cody caught me again. I couldn’t even lift my head now. Blood pooled beneath me. I could feel hands trying to assess the damage, hear people shouting over each other. But all I could focus on was the fact that I had protected them. All of them. That had to be enough.
Then I felt his presence. The Rock. Looming. Heavy footsteps approaching. Cody tensed beside me, arms tightening protectively. But before The Rock could take another step—Bianca moved. She stepped right in front of him. No words. No fists. Just a glare strong enough to melt steel. And then Randy Orton moved in beside her, silent and cold as death. LA Knight joined them too, bloodied but standing proud. They were forming a wall.
A shield. For me. I wanted to cry—but I didn’t have the strength. And then… the lights went out. The crowd gasped. Thunder rolled. That familiar chill swept through the air. I knew it before I even saw them. The lights returned—and there they were. My brothers.
Undertaker. Kane. Standing by my side, like they always had. Like they always would. Cena froze in fear. The Rock charged—too blinded by ego to care. But both of them moved in unison, cold as vengeance, hands closing around The Rock’s throat like fate itself had come calling. The lights went dark again. When they came back… The Rock was gone. So were my brothers. I let out a shaky breath and slumped back against Cody’s chest. He was still holding me like the world might collapse if he let go.
“Still with me?” he whispered.
“Barely,” I murmured. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
He smiled. “Damn right, you’re not.”
And for the first time that night, I let myself close my eyes. Because I knew I was safe.
ns216.73.216.241da2
and then Add to home screen.