Page 26
“I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to lay eyes on the virgin daughter.” Those ominous blue eyes sweep over me, and the corner of his lip lifts with a devious smile. “She’s everything I imagined, and more.”
“Will you be fighting in her honor?”
“No. I’ve arranged for someone to fight in my place. He’s preparing as we speak.” Without taking his eyes off me, he steps up into the box, his closing proximity forcing me backward. “How utterly spectacular.” The moment his hand reaches out, I notice the deformity of it. Ectrodactyly, specifically, where the fingers between his thumb and pinky are absent. I’ve read about it, but never actually seen a real-life case of it.
I rear back, the thump of the glass hitting the back of my head, and he lifts a golden curl from my shoulders, letting my hair slide between his only two, long, bony fingers.
“I look forward to another meeting,” he says.
“Please don’t touch the prize.” Madame’s flat voice carries an air of authority and impatience.
The man gives only a slight bow of his head and steps away, before exiting the box.
When he’s finally out of sight, I lurch forward, my hands balled to fists. “Prize? What is this?”
The smile that stretches across her face sends a sinking feeling to my stomach. “I told you, my dear, there is nothing more ambitious, nor inspiring, than hope.”
Instincts fire off like canons inside my head, and I dart across the box, but not before she steps back behind a glass shield that slides down and separates us. My body slams into the barrier and I crumple to the floor on impact. After only a moment’s distraction, I scramble to my feet and hammer my palm against the glass. “What are you doing! What is this!”
The stoic expression on her face rattles my nerves. “I have to tell you, darling, we’ve never had a crowd like this before. It’ll be quite an event. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to make the official kickoff announcement.”
A throbbing pain shoots up my wrist as I slam the heel of my hand into the glass. “Wait! Wait!”
She and Henry disappear into the shadows, leaving me alone inside the glass cage.
Twisting around shows the crowd filtering into the seats, and perhaps I was wrong about the size of it, because there seems to be spectators everywhere I look. A sea of them below me.
“Thalia.” At the sound of a familiar voice, I spin around and find Sam. The man who brought me here, sold me to this wretched woman without care, or conscience.
“What are you doing here?” If the venom in my tone were poison, the jerk would be seizing on the floor right now.
“I came to fight for your honor.”
“To hell with fighting for my honor. Get me the fuck out of here!”
“The cage is locked with a code. Only Madame can open it.”
I trail my gaze over my surroundings in search of a crack, a gap, a weak point. A means of escape. “What is this? What is going on? Why am I locked inside here?”
Frowning, he lowers his gaze. “You’re the prize.”
“What does that mean? She’s selling me off?”
“A half dozen men have been chosen to fight for your virtue.”
“And …. And then what?” The anger and frustration vibrating through me affects my words. “They get to break in the virgin?”
“They get to keep you.”
The lying, thieving bitch. “You said she wouldn’t sell me, but you knew she was keeping me for this!”
The remorse crinkling his brow doesn’t even begin to tug at my heart, my hands twitching with the urge to punch him right now. “I’m sorry. I needed the supplies. Desperately. But it was wrong, and now I’m going to fight on your behalf. And I swear to you, I’ll take you back to the convent.”
“That’s sweet, and all, but I just met one of the Champions, and he’s about twice your size.”
“I’m not fighting the Champions.”
“Then, what--” My question is cut short by a loud screeching scream that drowns the din of conversation and chatter echoing through the stadium.
