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“She said the council did this?” He seethes his question, his breath hissing out between his lips.
“Yes, but they'll obviously deny it, Maximus. It's not worth it.”
He grumbles something unintelligible under his breath but doesn't attempt to move again.
“You need to use your powers.” He tips my head back to meet his cold green ones.
“But—”
“No buts, you need to, she could have killed you, don't you realize that?” he asks incredulously. The question catches me off guard, my mind flashing back to the torturous pain, how helpless I was against her strikes. I hadn't realized the severity at that moment, hadn't realized that if she lost control or pushed a bit hard—hell, she could've pummeled me to death, and I would've been powerless to do anything.
I close my eyes, letting the realization wash over me. I don't want to cause anyone innocent any harm, but those who wish to cause me harm, who wish to cause my friends or family damage, I could use my powers against them. Not everyone in this world—or any other—is kind-hearted, some are ruthless, some have no moral compass. It's those people I wouldn't mind dishing out a bit of justice to.
My eyes peel open, and I nod in response. His eyes widen in surprise. He was clearly readying himself for an argument. He nods back, his gaze assessing mine before softening in understanding.
“The third round is about to begin,” the disjointed voice announces over the speaker. “Any student unable to compete will forfeit their match.”
I grit my teeth against the pain as I attempt to stand, my weary bones protesting every movement. Kyros balks at me, his mouth popping open in shock, I guess he wasn’t expecting me to get to my feet right now. My legs wobble under me, attempting to support my weight, when Maximus’ large arms slip under mine. He catches my weight, keeping me upright while I find my footing.
“What the hell do you think you're doing?” he growls incredulously. He keeps one arm around my shoulders, turning me to face him.
“You heard the robot, I need to take my place in the next round, otherwise I'll be forfeiting the match.” I huff out on an annoyed breath.
“I heard,” he rumbles. “But that still doesn't explain what you're doing. You can barely stand, how are you going to fight?”
I purse my lips and narrow my gaze on him, stubbornly pushing out of his hold. I take in a shaky breath willing my powers to strengthen my muscles, just as my father taught me. Hoping at least the momentary surge of power will last me through the match. To my relief, it works, I let go of the power, but the renewed sense of strength remains.
“See good as new.” I grin, marching over to the board to find my next ring.
“Fucking impossible woman,” Maximus grumbles.
“You wouldn't have it any other way.” I wink back at him, catching the small smile that tips his lips up before he smooths out his features.
Kyros, comes sprinting back to us. I hadn’t realized he’d taken off in the first place.
“You're in ring twelve, and you only have a few minutes left,” he warns. “Are you sure you're ready?”
I look for my father, who nods, his hard gaze on me. Adrian and Mateo beat their fists against the partition, attempting to break through whatever power lies between them and the council.
I nod back at him, seeing the knowing gleam in his eyes. I won't back down.
“I'm ready,” I answer Kyros with determination, my fists clenching. My power is still within me, beckoning me to use it, to allow it to aid me, to become one. I’ll be prepared next round, and if they want to play dirty, I'd be more than happy to oblige.
I give Maximus and Kyros a parting nod, reaching out to squeeze both of their hands before reluctantly dropping them. Ring twelve is just a few rows ahead, of course, it sits a few rows back, but the position is front and center, in perfect view of the council.
I pick up my pace to a light jog, the power within me bolstering my confidence with every footfall. I make it to the ring just in time, where my next opponent stands across from me, his back still facing me.
My blood freezes in my veins as my eyes land on the man before me, my opponent for the final round. I've only seen him once before.
The memory still plays vividly in the back of my mind. I feel the trickle of phantom blood seeping through my fingers. The plunge of the blade into my stomach.
Fear tightens my chest, and my heart thunders wildly against my ribs as he turns, his blond hair ruffled by the slight breeze, his hazel eyes locking onto me with malicious intent.
I jolt as the bell ringing pierces my ears. My body reflexively moves into a defensive stance, despite the bile that rises in my throat. My third opponent is the man I had a vision of stabbing me, and now I'm locked into this ring with him.
This is not my fucking day.
