The sand was in my mouth, in my eyes, in my lungs. I could feel every grain rubbing raw against my skin. My elbow buckled as I tried to push up again. and for a second, I wasn’t sure my body would obey.
I didn’t know how long I’d been down. The moment Damon slammed me to the ground had blurred into static. I remembered the sound of the crowd gasping. I remembered the sky overhead going dark. And I remembered the way he crouched beside me. Low voice, unreadable eyes, and the words.
“It’s over.
But it hadn’t been.
My body was done. My pride wasn’t.
I forced my elbow to lock. My other hand clawed at the dirt, dragging my chest upward inch by inch. My lungs burned with every breath. My shoulders
shook.
Someone – Ronan maybe – murmured something just outside the ring, but I couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t care.
I just needed to get to my feet. One more time. Just once more.
I heard Damon say something, too quiet to catch. Then a rush of sound as he stood and announced the match was over.
And still, I tried to rise.
The cheers from the crowd hit like a slap. They didn’t cheer for me, not really. It was for the spectacle. For the power on display. For the Lycan King.
The sand under my fingers shifted and gave way. My arms buckled again, but this time I caught myself with a knee, heaving air into my lungs like I was drowning on dry land.
My limbs trembled with every ounce of effort.
Please, Ruby, I begged. Just a little strength. Just a little more. We just need to stand up.
She stirred faintly, like a fading heartbeat in the back of my mind. You already won, she whispered. Just not the way they count it.
I was too tired to think about what she meant. I just knew I wasn’t upright, and I had to be.
I grit my teeth, braced one foot against the ground, and stood. Slowly, painfully, but I stood. I was swaying. The world was still tilted, overwhelming my senses, but I was vertical.
And that was enough.
I didn’t meet Damon’s eyes. I couldn’t.
Instead, I turned my head slightly and saw the crowd, their faces a blur of curiosity and disbelief. And near the front, Asher was still watching me. Not laughing this time. Just watching, and smiling to himself.
Emma was at the edge of the field now, wringing her hands, eyes wide and worried.
I wanted to tell her I was okay. But I couldn’t even breathe right, let alone talk.
A bell rang behind me. It was time for the final scoring.
The process was slow. Deliberate. One by one, the candidates were called forward, lined up like good little daughters of nobility.
1/2
Chapter 2:
me were smirking, soms bruised some blinking back fears. A few glanced my way with thinly veiled dispus, İRETRO-
either the King’s plaything who got special treatment, or as someone about to get allminated.
I stood as straight as I could in the lineup, shoulder to shoulder with Emma who was practically holding me up. My knees, threatened to give et time shifted weight, but I stayed standing.
Damon stood off to the side now, waiting for judgement. He watched with arms crossed.and that same unreadable expression he always word. Excepth gaze kept flicking towards me.
Ronan called out names. One by one, scores were announced. Some women preened at the numbers. Others stiffened.
When Ronan called Vanessa’s name, her nose rose another inch into the air. Her score was high enough to pass. Of course it was. She smirked as she waved at the crowd like they were her subjects already, but not before whispering under her breath.
“Guess you got lucky. Maybe next time you can stay conscious long enough to impress someone.”
She moved past me slowly, her perfume too sweet and sharp, like rotting fruit. I guess she had enough time after her match to shower. Then, louder, she said “Maybe he’ll kept you in just to make an example of you. We all saw it, The King had to carry you through that fight.”
I didn’t respond. I was too focused on staying upright.
But I saw Ronan shift from the corner of my eye. His jaw tightened. He turned his head slightly, watching Vanessa’s retreat with cool disapproval before glancing at me again.
His gaze lingered, sharp and assessing, and when our eyes briefly met, something flickered there. A warning? A question? Or maybe… concern. Damn, I was tired if I thought Beta Ronan was concerned about me.
He kept going: another name, another score, another ripple of noise through the crowd.
And then Ronan called, “Elena Ashford.”
My breath caught. The world narrowed and I stepped forward. I was so aware of every step, of how my legs trembled and the arena felt like it was swaying beneath me.
Ronan looked at me for a half–second longer than necessary before speaking. His gaze flicked over my face, to the slow rise and fall of my chest, the tension in my frame.
His expression didn’t shift. But his voice was gentler when he spoke. “Score: 75.”
I blinked. That was… enough. Not top–tier. Not elimination–worthy either.
I heard the relief ripple through the crowd before I felt it in myself. I was still in. Just barely. I had done well enough in archery and dagger throwing, and lasted long enough against Damon to earn a passing score.
I bowed slightly, barely more than a dip of my head, and stepped back into formation.
Behind me, I heard Damon move. I didn’t turn to look, but my skin prickled with the weight of his attention.
Why had he let it go on that long? Why didn’t he end it sooner? And why the hell did it matter?
I didn’t know what was worse, that he could’ve crushed me in seconds and didn’t, or that he had and I was still standing here, pretending I didn’t have something broken inside of me.
When the final name was called, the eliminated contenders were dismissed. Some walked off with heads held high. Others fled the field before the crowd could see them cry.
I stayed where I was. Waiting.
Breathing hurt. Every inhale scraped. Every muscle ached. But I was still here.
Chapter 29
When we were finally dismissed, Emma ran to my side.
“Oh my goddess, Elena“, she grabbed my arm to steady me as we walked. “You scared the hell out of me. I thought he’d knocked you unconsciosa.
“Came close,” I muttered.
She shook her head, bait exasperated, half in awe. “You’re insane. You should’ve yielded.”
I didn’t answer. Because I couldn’t. Even now, part of me wished I’d gotten in just one more hit. Part of me wondered if Damon would have let me.
But another part, one I hated, wondered if he’d cared. And because deep down, I knew yielding wouldn’t have changed what mattered.
I had survived, but survival came with a cost.
And Damon had seen the bill.
