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The doors before me start to slide open, and I send up a second prayer to the goddess for stamina and luck. Knowing she’s looking down upon me fills me with confidence, and I step out into the arena.
Cheers fill the air as I appear before them, the combined noise so loud it sounds more like a roar, as though a lion is watching me. The crowd sits on raised platforms, looking down into an oval-shaped pit, which is where I stand now. The ground is made of hard-packed dirt, and the sky is clear above us with no roof to protect us should the weather decide to change.
There’s movement on the other side of the arena. Snapping my head around, I find my first opponent standing opposite me. My heart leaps when I realise who it is—Jackson, my mate’s cousin.
Did the council realise that by putting us together, they were making it easy for me? I assume that they think fighting my mate’s cousin will be hard for me, and they are right, because having to hurt Jackson would be awful, which is why it’s a good thing we had a plan for a situation just like this.
Joel, Jackson, and Scott had all agreed to lose any fight against me, making sure I could continue to the next round. None of us thought the council would put us together, but this was planned just in case. Of course, if they are out of the trials, they can no longer help me, but this is all pointless if I fail and get killed by the council.
Jackson looks concerned and a little shocked at seeing me, but he nods his head as if making a silent decision. His clothes look dusty and a little torn up, like he’s been rolling around on the ground, telling me that he’s already fought one fight, and won.
“Begin.”
The amplified voice cuts through the noise of the crowd, signalling the start of the fight.
Plastering a grin on his face, Jackson turns his attention to me, cocking his finger as he dares me to move forward. We have to make this look a little like we’re fighting and playing by the council’s rules, because outwardly flaunting our disobedience would only encourage talk of a rebellion, which is not what we want to do.
I drop into a defensive position, not quite sure what to do next. Thankfully, Jackson makes the decision for me. He stalks across the arena, walking straight up to me with a maniacal grin. Backing away, I stumble over the uneven ground just as he lunges forward and grabs me.
Wrapping his arms around my middle in a bear hug, he lifts me from the ground. My legs dangle, and my heart pounds despite knowing this is all part of the act. He doesn’t squeeze me like he should, instead, he kisses me gently on the temple and lowers his mouth to my ear.
“Raise your elbow like you’ve freed it from my hold, then bring it down on the side of my neck, just where I showed you.”
I remember the move he’s talking about. He was the one to teach it to me. I take a deep breath to clear the panic from my mind and focus. Thrashing my legs for dramatic effect, I twist my torso and manage to yank my right arm free. Raising it up above my head, I bring my elbow down sharply onto his neck. He grunts in pain, and I instantly feel bad, but as he releases me from his hold, he winks, stumbles back, and then collapses to the ground.
Complete silence fills the arena as everyone seemingly holds their breath, watching to see if Jackson will get back up. I know he won’t, it’s part of the plan, but I can’t help but watch for any movement, my body acting on instinct.
“Laelia wins this round.”
The announcement seems to break the spell over the audience, who starts clapping and cheering. There are some who don’t seem happy, narrowing their eyes in suspicion as they gesture towards Jackson’s still form.
The door opens behind me, and a rough hand grabs my shoulder, pulling me back into the small room. Gasping, I try to yank away, finding the same guard from before. The look he gives me is full of venom, practically begging me to attack him or cause problems so he has justification to punish me. Knowing that I need to play by the rules, I grit my teeth and follow the guard, glancing over my shoulder once to see two guards dragging Jackson from the arena.
As we step back into the small room, the doors to the arena shut behind us. The guard lets go of my shoulder and wipes his hand on his shirt, as though I’m dirty and he can’t stand to touch me. Pulling my lips back in a sneer, I narrow my eyes on the foul male.
“Wait here,” he orders, opening the door at the opposite end of the room.
My anger suddenly drains from me, one very important question plaguing my thoughts. “What will happen to Jackson now that he’s lost?”
The guard just shrugs, but he grins, making me shudder. Before I can demand a proper answer, he slams the other door shut, trapping me back in the room as I’m forced to wait for my next fight.
Thoughts of awful things happening to my friend play out in my mind. The council didn’t say that there was a punishment for failing, so in theory, Jackson will just be out of the trials, no longer able to compete. However, I know what our leaders are like, and I’m sure they would have seen straight through our little act.
Thankfully I’m not kept waiting too long before the door to the arena begins to open again. Sending up another prayer to the goddess, I step out into the light and see who I’ve been paired against this time.
The male is tall and angry looking. He’s older than I am, possibly my father’s age. Tattoos seem to cover almost every inch of skin below his neck, and he gives off an imposing vibe. His dirty blond hair is pulled back in a bun and he stares at me like I’m his next meal. I recognise him. I’m pretty sure he’s the angry lone wolf I saw at one of the ceremonies. Unlike many of the wolves here, he doesn’t hide his outright fury at having to be here and playing to the whims of the council.
His jaw clenches as he takes me in, and if possible, he looks even more angry than he did before. He makes me nervous, not necessarily because of how imposing he seems, but because he wears the look of someone who will do anything to win. That makes him dangerous, especially to someone who doesn’t have much experience in fighting.
“Begin.”
The order rings out over us, making me jump. Keeping my eyes locked on my opponent, I block out the sounds of the crowd and slowly move forward. The last thing I want is for him to be able to block me in and pin me against the wall, so although I really don’t want to be closing the distance between us, it’ll be safer for me in the long run.
He mirrors my moves, stepping closer, until something in his eyes changes and he lunges forward. Heart in my throat, I twist out of the way, darting to one side. I just miss his half-turned hand, his sharp claws extended towards me. Jumping back a few steps, I try to remain light on my feet, my breathing fast and my heart pounding so hard in my chest it feels like it might break through my ribcage.
He lunges for me again, and I follow my instincts, weaving around him in a circle as he attempts to keep up with me, growling louder with each missed blow.
“What are you doing?” he grumbles, letting his hands drop to his sides as he assesses me. “You’re supposed to be fighting me, not dancing around.”
