Kilian stole a sausage from Cian’s plate, pointing it at Niko. “Bad form today. What’s got you all twisted up?” Niko, who hadn’t even showered yet and still had sticky strands of bleached blond hair matted to his forehead, forced a smile. “An opponent surprised me, but that’s okay. I’ll demolish them like I’ve demolished all the others.” Kilian dropped the sausage, his stomach twisting. He snatched up a napkin, wiping his fingers. “Just do it gently,” he whispered, keeping his eyes on the table.
