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My gaze sharpens on the man, taking in his stance. I push my fear down, needing to focus on every move he makes. I won’t let the dream become a reality. He bounces on his feet before jabbing his fist at me. I dart to the side, barely dodging it in time, not wanting to waste my energy blocking his attack.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” he sneers, aiming a kick to my side and leaving me no choice this time but to block the move. Pain lances up my arm. I shake off the momentary surprise at the force of his hit, he’s not much weaker than Maximus, and that’s saying something.
I narrow my gaze appraising him, warring with the anxious energy vibrating through my body. I swallow thickly, clearing the fog from my mind, knowing it won’t serve me any good to linger on those thoughts right now.
I eye his fist, readying another blow, and use the opportunity to my advantage. I dart to the right and jab a fist to his ribs, expecting him to at least wince at the impact, but he doesn’t even blink.
My moment of hesitation gives him the perfect opportunity. His knuckles slam into my stomach, the force so hard it takes my breath away. I struggle to pull in air to my greedy lungs and stagger back a step. Pain radiates through my abdomen, making me double over. I catch myself just in time to avoid tumbling over. Barely clasping a clammy palm around my knee for support. I heave my body up and turn to a defensive stance, not allowing him an open target.
That was definitely more strength than anyone should be able to pack into a punch. We’re one for one, and if I don’t make a decision now, I may not be able to come back.
Weighing the odds, I pull on my own power, funneling it into my muscles, and unlike before, I don’t let it recede. Instead, I keep a steady flow moving through me. Letting the strength wash over me, I feel renewed, re-energized, and ready to dish out the same level of pain through my blows.
I duck out of the way at the last moment, and air rushes against my side, so close I swear I can feel the slight graze of his knuckles.
I wait for a chime or blaring of horns to go off at my use of power, but nothing happens. The only sounds in the distance are the grunts and smacking of flesh from the fights around us. He must be using powers against me too, if the alarms are disabled, and if I was a betting woman, my money would be on strength. Well buddy, two can play that game.
My lips quirk up in a devious grin, and I channel my energy. The blond man blinks in surprise at my reluctance to bow down, giving me an opening to aim a jab to his ribs. I put my power behind it, making sure not to use enough to alert anyone around me. I mean, it might be a bit obvious if he goes flying back into the barrier. Although that would be fun to see, especially since the scene from my dream this morning keeps my hair standing on end and my guards all the way up.
He grunts at the impact, sucking in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. I don’t miss the widening of his eyes as realization hits him, but I don’t falter, landing a roundhouse kick to his side.
He crumples forward slightly at that and drags in a ragged breath through his gritted teeth. Wincing at the pain no doubt pulsing through his ribs.
“What, did you think this was going to be easy?” I chuckle, egging him on. Hoping rage will cloud his gaze.
My heart beats uncontrollably, my adrenaline spikes. His fist whizzes by my face, and I tip my head at the last second. To my dismay, an alarm doesn’t sound at that either despite the attempted uppercut being firmly against the rules. I hear shouts in the distance, but I tune them out, unable to focus on anything other than the man before me.
I land a hit to his ribs, open from his missed attempt, and feel the crunch under my knuckles. The snap of bone audible from where I stand.
He moves so quickly I barely register his fist landing a blow to my jaw. Thankfully, I manage to shift a few inches, otherwise, I’m unsure what damage that hit could have caused. As it is, my vision blurs, the world spinning about. I blink my eyes rapidly, staggering back to avoid his next attack.
“You fucking bitch,” he snarls, spittle flying from his lips and spraying across my face. I pull on my power, using the healing magic as Kyros taught me to heal me partially, just enough to see clearly.
“You think you’re better than us?” he snarls under his breath. The words freeze me to my bones, causing my teeth to lightly chatter against each other. Memories of the silver blade gleaming in the sunlight before being plunged into my abdomen float to the surface. I even recognize the putrid stench of his breath trailing across my skin.
I blink, attempting to clear my mind, to push down the fear that threatens to immobilize me. To calm my heart, now jack hammering in my chest.
“You thought you were going to walk out of here?” He chuckles maniacally, a calculating glint to his eyes. My gaze automatically moves to the flash of metal and the knife I know he will produce. My breath catches in my throat as the blade gleams in the afternoon sun. I push my panic down, focus, Liv. You had that dream for a reason. I swallow the bile rising in my throat and ready myself, pulling on the power within my chest. Already something I didn’t do in my dream. I prepare for the words I know will come next.
“Think again,” he sneers.
The words barely leave his lips before I move, my leg swinging to connect with his hand, sending the knife flying from his palm. It bounces off the barrier, falling softly to nestle within the blades of grass. I waste no time planting my foot and turning to land a back kick into the center of his chest. The breath leaves his lungs at the impact, and his body slams against the barrier.
He crumples forward, and slides down to the grass. I waste no time leaping atop him, much the same way Abigail had done to me. I land blow after blow to his ribs, his abdomen.
His fists swing out desperately to make any contact he can. His hands clamp around my jaw, trying to push me off, but I ignore it, taking all of my aggression out on him.
I land a blow for every ounce of fear I felt at his hands, for every bead of cold sweat that trickled down my body this morning. For what he planned to do to me, what he would have done to me if I hadn’t had that dream—vision—whatever it was, and stopped him.
The ringing bell sounds in my ears, and I force my hands to stop at that moment. Not wanting them to disqualify me on some bullshit technicality, despite all of their attempts to cheat. I roll off him, scrambling away to put some space between us. Bile rising in my throat at the forced proximity between that vile man and me.
Bones crack as he attempts to sit up, and he lets out a pained cry, making me wince. He pulls up his shirt, his pale skin mottled with patches of already forming bruises.
“Sit still, you idiot,” I chastise, turning my nose up in disgust at the effects of my blows. Closing my eyes for a moment, I remind myself of the vision. What he planned for me was much worse than the state I’ve left him in. Shaking my head in disgust, I climb to my feet.
I whip my gaze to the two boxes. Kyros is jogging over to me already, worry creasing his soft eyes. I hold up a hand, needing him to stop where he is. All of this today was a game to the council, to see my strengths, my weaknesses, and flush out my powers if possible. Kyros coming to me now would make me seem weak, and that’s something I can’t afford right now. Not with two more trials to go.
All the gods stand now, their gazes firmly planted on me. I desperately want to look towards my guys, my father, letting them know I’m okay, but I can’t, not just yet.
