Chapter 25
Bellator
SPECTER - BAD OMENS ?
Iam unsure of the hours that have passed since I last saw Rosie and Steve.
I expected to be taken to the cells, but once again, my expectations were proven wrong.
I was guided to a single room where row after row of guards beat at my body.
The collar left me immobilised, but I did not think they would take it so far.
Rage consumed them as they attacked, the pain in their eyes profound.
My legs are unstable. One is broken and rapidly being mended together; the other has a long gash across the thigh.
I am fractured, only half the orc I should be before a fight.
When the beherit, my opponent, first revealed itself, I felt a range of emotions.
Pleased that I would once again fight someone worthy of my full capabilities.
Content that this would be my last fight.
Broken that my bonded was so close to me, yet I would not get to touch her again.
I do not know if there is enough time before we begin for any of my injuries to mend.
Orc healing happens rapidly; however, right now, I wouldn’t turn away a potion from a witch that would speed up the process.
I needed hours, not the seconds I have.
The illuminating sky orb blinds my sight as I stare to where Rosie and Steve should be watching. It is a small blessing to know the Emperor wants to gloat in this victory and have them watch my end. It gives me hope that I will see them again.
Our bond line can only be described as red and inflamed. We are all on edge from what's happening. I should have had Rosie remove the collar when she offered. I should have mastered the art of kissing.
We were meant to practice.
I want more time to spend with my brother, to mate with my bonded. It would have been magical if we could have finally completed the ritual. To all be connected together. I feel my heart jump at the thought of it.
The deep gash to my side has finally stopped bleeding, blue staining the dirt all around me.
I can't see what's happening in the viewing boxes, another disadvantage given to me with the intensity of the light in my eyes.
The crowd remains silent. I understand now that I missed many opportunities to change the path I was on, caring more to maintain the balance of what we were, than to realise the change was for who we could be.
At the far end of the arena, the beherit stands, maintaining the same balance I once lived for.
The natural order was formed by rank, not of strength.
So it waits just like I do, to carry out the task it is no doubt being paid for.
I stand, swords at the ready to fight until my final breath, until a scream so pained tears through the colosseum.
My chest constricts.
Blood rushes past my ears.
The whole Realm falls to the wayside as every instinct I have focuses on her.
The collar around my neck starts to heat, but I ignore it. There is too much power raging through my veins.
One staggered step forward.
The second step, a little easier.
Every step becoming lighter as I push through each stab of pain shooting through my body.
I will not go down without a fight.
I will not go down.