Page 136 of Snow

The match picked up fast, both of them testing each other, circling, striking, pulling back. Snow felt every hit as if it landed on him, his muscles tightening with each exchange.

Riley, sitting next to him, grabbed onto his arm more than once, shouting Nova’s name at the top of her lungs, completely invested.

And it hit him then—watching the team, the way they rallied around her, the way they showed up for her without hesitation.

This was what she had now.

After everything she had been through—every betrayal, every doubt, every piece of her past that had tried to hold her down—she had stepped into this moment and chosen herself. She chose to fight, and chose to win.

Snow’s jaw tightened as Nova took a hard shot to the ribs, her body folding slightly before she stumbled back. His heart jumped into his throat when Martina moved in, trying to sweep her legs out from under her, which was one of her signature dirty moves.

“Come on…” he muttered under his breath.

Then came the elbow. It was fast and sharp. But Nova was already moving. She ducked just in time, the strike cutting through empty air where her head had been a second before. She pivoted, quick and controlled, then drove a vicious kick straight into Martina’s side.

Snow shot to his feet along with the rest of the crowd.

“That’s it! Keep going!” he yelled, his voice lost in the roar around him. “You got her, Nova!”

“Finish her!” Clover shouted from somewhere behind him.

The entire arena seemed to surge, Nova’s name echoing from every direction as the fight intensified. Martina came back hard, clearly pissed, throwing aggressive counter shots, but Nova saw them coming. She adjusted, moved, struck back—a hit for a hit, and a kick for a kick.

They traded blows in a relentless rhythm, neither one backing down. Snow barely blinked, his entire body tense as he tracked every movement.

Then Martina landed a solid hit to Nova’s face. But she recovered almost instantly, resetting her stance, and something shifted. Snow saw it—the moment she flipped from reacting to taking control.

She went on the offensive. She started throwing quick jabs and sharp, calculated kicks aimed at Martina’s sides. She drove forward, forcing Martina to give ground and defend instead of attack.

Then, just as Martina tried to recover, Nova went for the kill shot.

An uppercut snapped Martina’s head back, followed immediately by a powerful roundhouse kick to the stomach that sent her stumbling.

And then she went down.

The impact echoed through the arena as Martina hit the mat.

For a split second, everything felt frozen. Then the crowd erupted.

Snow was already moving, barely aware of it, adrenaline flooding his system as the referee started the count. Nova paced lightly on her feet, controlled, focused, ready if Martina got back up.

“One… two… three…”

At six, Martina struggled to her knees.

Snow leaned forward, his heart racing.

Then she dropped again.

The bell rang, and the ref waved it off.

“Winner!” the referee shouted, grabbing Nova’s hand and lifting it high.

The arena exploded.

Snow didn’t even remember climbing over people or how he ended up surrounded by the team, but suddenly he was there, laughing, shouting, grabbing whoever was closest as they celebrated like it was their own victory. Because in a way, it was.

“And the winner, by knockout—the new national kickboxing champion… Nova Hart!”