Chapter 41
Mila
I wish I could see the face that belongs to the deep voice that stills my heart and makes my thoughts collide in confusion. The announcer opens his left arm as Dash ’ s opponent enters the pit.
“ Jared Everhart, you are called to participate in the Cleansing.”Our classmates gasp, each one piercing my chest like bullets.
Jared?
Not my Jared.
I squeeze my leg muscles to ensure I stay standing. Yet there, my dance partner stands in the front line with a group of students eager to see bloodshed.He steps forward, into the ring like he’s claimed victory over it.
Jared confidently curls his lips, snarling at Dash, causing me to stagger back into Dante ’ s hard chest.
“ This can ’ t be happening,” I mumble as Dante ’ s hands envelop me, keeping me upright. “ Scholarship kids don ’ t participate in The Cleansing.”
“ Maybe he ’ s not a scholarship kid,” Dante whispers in acceptance.
I shake my head.
This is wrong. I know Jared; we dated for a while. Jared is a foster kid. One of his foster parents was a retired dancer, and that ’ s how he got started dancing. He ’ s a hard shell from years of foster care, not because he was raised like Dash.
Jared isn ’ t one of us.
“ Dante, we have to do something. Jared can ’ t fight.” But he can, and you know it. He ’ s a good fighter. I ’ ve witnessed it. His quickness, perfect balance, and anticipation of his partner ’ s moves make him an exceptional ballet partner. All characteristics that will act as obstacles for Dash.
“ The look in his eyes tells me he can.”
“ Jared is a ballet dancer, Dante. He can ’ t fight. Dash will kill him.” Each word I speak grows less confident.
Has Jared been hiding his true nature?
His cruelty, the way he lashed out when I ended things with him, tells me he could be a monster. I disregarded all those little clues as mere signs of an angry teenager who was envious and jealous of his wealthy classmates.
Why didn ’ t I see it?
“ Mila,” Dante ’ s voice, firm yet gentle, resembles that of a doctor coercing me to accept a dreadful destiny. “People in our world are never who you think they are at first. Each of us is like a canvas, with layers of deception meant to make others value and appreciate us. Remember that. Don ’ t fully trust until you ’ ve met the artist, not just their artwork.”
The cloaked figure bows, nods, and then leaves the ring, leaving only Dash and Jared in the center. Dante ’ s arms lock around me, bolting me back to his chest. I was unaware that my torso was getting closer to the ring. I see Dash and Jared talking; the sadistic smirk on Jared ’ s face has my stomach in a knot so tight no master sailor could free it.
“ What are they saying?” I plead desperately, hoping Dante can answer me.
Then it happens: Jared says something that shatters all of Dash ’ s control. Dash lunges forward while simultaneously swinging his arm back. I can see Dash ’ s move, which means Jared turn predicted it as well.
Shit!
Dash can ’ t react this way; he can ’ t allow Jared to win, which means Jared has to die. Either way, this night will affect me much more than I ever anticipated. I always feared how the outcome would change Dash, but I should have considered how it would forever change me as well.
Jared steps to the side, mimicking lightning. One blink, and you missed it. He grabs Dash ’ s shoulders, spinning him off balance. Dash ’ s heels dig in the dirt, trying to find purchase again, but Jared shoves Dash to the ground. Then Jared is on top of Dash, swinging his fist and landing two hard punches to Dash ’ s cheek before Dash jerks his hips up, knocking Jared to the side and rolling free.
“ Fuck!” Dante growls, then his hands disappear, and he ’ s rushing down the hillside toward the fighting pit.
My feet stumble in a desperate frenzy to get down as well. I tumble down a few feet as sharp gasps, and cheers cause me to fall on the angled hill, my knees hitting the ground. The students draw near, causing me to feel almost crushed. I find my footing and resume running, maneuvering past other students to reach the bottom.
I see Dante, his body leaning forward, but his feet don ’ t pass a white chalk line, which forms a circle in the fighting pit. His mouth screams in anger as he shouts demands for Dash. Once I reach Dante ’ s side, his eyes glance down, blinking in shock as they remember that he left me behind. He grabs me again, forcing me to his side. “ If you enter, they will shoot you. No help is allowed.” He snarls in my ear.
I spot Cillian on the other side. Next to him is one of the cloaked figures with a gun in hand.
“ No,” I cry. I look towards the pity to find Dash and Jared in constant motion. They move like shooting stars, bright, fast, and on fire. I see streaks of red on their flesh and know it ’ s blood, but whose?
Each move, swing, and punch landed has my stomach inching up, up, up, choking my airway.
“ Yes!” Dante shouts. His body roars and shakes against mine.
Blinking, I try to clear my eyes. Jared ’ s body twist from the impact. It ’ s like I ’ m watching some horrid ballet as Dash steps closer, going in for his second move. I want Dash to win, but at the same time, knowing Jared will die isn ’ t something I can grasp. Even though Jared hurt me and clearly lied to me, I still don ’ t want him to die.
Does that make me the villain or the hero?
What ’ s good or evil when either outcome kills someone?
Dash swings his leg up down into Jared ’ s ankle, causing it to twist. A gasp leaves my lips. He won ’ t dance for a while with a sprain or break like that.
Oh, Mila, you ’ re still not in the present. Jared is never going to dance again.
Despite the cheering crowd, I can sense Jared ’ s suffering from his silent gasp of pain. Then, something happens that gives the impression of the end. Dash jumps in the air, spinning and landing a kick into Jared ’ s jaw.
My lips open in astonishment. I knew Dash was dangerous, but I underestimated how lethal he was.
Jared ’ s body goes limp and falls to the ground.
Oh god! Dash did it.
“ More!”
“ Blood!”
“ Kill him!” My peers shout.
My skin is engulfed by an illness as I glance from side to side. These are the people I break bread with. I sit in class with them. I walk side by side with monsters and so far have blissfully tried to ignore them, but deep down, I knew this was their nature.
Perhaps it was mine, too; after all, I have craved seeing the blood pool from my own flesh. The need to feel some sort of power in my plotted-out life.
Dash inserted himself into my life and saw my flaws, perhaps my future. He made me crave him instead of this violence. If it wasn ’ t for Dash, would I mirror their shouts for brutality during the next Cleansing?
Jared stays motionless, and for a moment, all grow quiet unsure if this is the end.
“ Dash can stop, right?” I ask Dante. The rules are last man standing. Jared is now unmoving; I think unconscious. “ Dash can end it now.”
My heart is beating so fast that I can ’ t hear if Dante responds. One of the cloaked men steps a foot into the ring. “ Is your opponent unmoving, Dash King?”The voice sounds like nails scraping over stone.
I swallow, realizing the danger. Dash must get closer to check.
Dash ’ s chest heaves up and down, labored; his body is covered with dirt and blood, causing some spots to cling to him in a thickness like clay. Blood drips from his ripped lip, and I already see heavy bruising on his jaw, but…he ’ s alive, and I will wash it all away like I always do.
For the second time tonight, Dash turns his face, finding mine in an instant. I expect to see the same hate dilating his pupils, but instead, I see sorrow and guilt, and I know in that second, he ’ s going to kill Jared and not just walk away.
There is an apology written in his eyes, eyes that I adore and also despise at times. Eyes that healed me, only to break me again just now.
“ Show mercy.” I try to speak, but it ’ s as if my voice has been ripped from my tongue.
There ’ s a subtle shake of his head—a refusal. He understands what I seek, but won ’ t give it.
That ’ s his way. It ’ s almost as if Dash is trying to tell me this is what I need, that killing Jared is fixing me in some way.
Maybe it is.
Will it teach me not to trust? Not to give mercy.
How to hate?
Dash turns his head, peeling his eyes from me slowly. That ’ s when Dante grabs me tighter than anyone has ever held me before, so constricting I can ’ t inhale. Maybe Dante doesn ’ t want me to, and possibly passing out from lack of oxygen will spare me from witnessing what will happen next.
Dash stalks towards Jared. I note the slight limp in his walk. His newly healed leg must be aching. He needs more time to rebuild all his muscles.
Dash stands over Jared, just watching. Waiting.
Jared ’ s lungs barely inhale and exhale; he shows no sign of being awake, no fear that his death is coming. Dash kicks Jared ’ s side. It ’ s not harsh or cruel, more like you ’ d kick a dead body to see if life still clings to it.
“ Walk away. Tell them you ’ re done.” I plead as tears blur my eyes. “ He can walk away.”
“ Nothing is so simple, Mila,” Dante whispers close to my ear, ensuring I hear. “ The fights usually end in death for a reason.”
“ What reason is that?” I cry in anger.
“ Survival.”
At first, Jared ’ s body takes it, recoiling as a limp body should. No tension is freed from Dash ’ s shoulders; instead, more builds as he steps closer and straddles Jared ’ s unmoving body. Hesitantly, Dash bends down, hands reaching out until they grasp Jared ’ s neck.
A pained cry parts from my lips. An apology to Jared for his fate and a twisted thank you that his death allows Dash to live.
This is the very moment Jared dies, and when my broken prince forever disappears into the darkness of his mind. This is when Dash King emerges and announces to the world that he ’ s ready to claim his crown.