6. Chapter Six Rhowyn
Chapter Six: Rhowyn
I was escorted by the guards from my cell. Six in total that kept me surrounded at all times, with iron cuffs on my hands that ensured my magic didn’t replenish on the walk to the next trial. To be honest, it was flattering that they felt the need to have so many guards to ensure I behaved.
What wasn’t flattering was the fact that they didn’t allow me to clean up or eat an actual meal before leading me to a doorway, a different one than we’d used in the previous trials. I could hear the echo of a crowd and knew I was in some kind of arena. The image of gladiators being sent out to fight for the hordes of people felt oddly similar to my current situation.
Now I knew what it was like to be imprisoned against your will and sent to die before the hungry masses. Some things in life never changed, I supposed. Whether human or fae, it was only natural to enjoy bloodsport. Hell, I enjoyed it too. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have become an MMA fighter on Earth. The fights I had been in were very much like what I faced now, the difference being that in one, I was paid, and in the other, I was forced to fight against my will. Trying to ignore the cuffs that were chafing against my wrists and leaving them raw and oozing, I focused instead on getting my head right. Half the battle for a fighter was having the right mindset.
Cracking my neck from side to side and rolling my shoulders, I loosened up the stiff muscles from sitting in a cell for days on end, picturing what victory would look like. For the first time in my fighting career, I found that I couldn’t picture it. This was not MMA. This would be with weapons and magic, to the death in some cases. There would be no rules, just ruthless brutality to see who could win the final trial and be crowned Queen.
I knew the others would be gunning for me. After having succeeded in both trials, even winning the first one, I was a clear front-runner, which made me a threat. To make things worse, I wouldn’t even have the backup of my consorts, while every other Chosen would. I was outclassed in every manner except one.
I knew what it was like to go out and actually cause harm to another person. I’d killed before, and I would do it again to ensure that me and mine stayed safe. I didn’t know when to quit, and I’d be dead before I ever submitted to anyone. From what I had seen, the other Chosen were very much pampered and protected. They didn’t know the meaning of hard. And if they thought they were coming for me, they’d know the meaning by the end of it all. I’d stop them to protect the men who were claiming my heart, no matter what it took, and I wouldn’t even lose a wink of sleep. Self-defense was always justified.
The large doors swung open to reveal a forested arena. Somehow, it was both densely forested while also thin enough to ensure the crowds could see us. Which meant we could also see them. This magic thing just kept getting weirder and weirder.
The crowds roared as the guards unlocked my cuffs, careful not to directly touch the iron. I stepped out into the arena, inhaling deeply the scent of the forest. After almost a week cooped up in the dark, dank cell with its mildew smell, I wanted to take a moment to enjoy the clean scents that surrounded me. A pang shot through me as I compared it to the scent of my men. Even Brannoc's scent, that reminded me of a dark, misty night, would have been welcomed right about now. For a moment, I thought I could actually smell him, watching over me, but it couldn't be. I hadn't seen him or the guys since that night, and if they knew what was good for them, they would stay away. I'd personally kick their asses if they put themselves in danger again for me. This mess was on me and not something they needed to deal with.
Taking one final inhale, holding it deep in my lungs for a long moment before exhaling it out slowly, I opened my eyes and focused on what was ahead of me. I wasn't allowed a weapon. Apparently, I was too much of a risk, and there was no telling where my magic dagger had ended up. Hell, it could still be sitting in the throne room where I'd left it since no one else could touch it, not even to pick it up.
Not quite sure what I was supposed to do, I started walking, my rope at my side. That was one thing they had allowed me since it was specifically selected for the trials and was considered pretty much harmless. I had to agree.
I entered the tree line, my eyes scanning left and right, keeping on the balls of my feet and ready for an attack. While I knew we were being watched by the people in the stands, the ever-present globe still followed me as I progressed through the trees, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. My gut was telling me that I was being stalked by more than just the orb.
After thirty minutes of remaining on high alert, I was beginning to fatigue. I'd lost weight since being kept in the cell, unable to stomach the slop that I was served and barely eating enough to stay alive. Add the magic drain to that and the fact that I hadn’t been able to sleep much, and I was dead on my feet.
Flashing back to a book I read as a teen about games where children hunted each other for entertainment for the masses, a strikingly similar scenario to what I found myself in now, I eyed a massive tree ahead. The branches hung low enough that I could climb them easily with a running jump. I just had to summon the energy to accomplish such a feat.
Doing just that, I grasped the branch, hissing at the bite of the bark into my hands from the impact, pulling myself up until I could move to the next branch. Finally stopping about halfway up since the branches higher up didn’t inspire my confidence that they'd hold my weight, I settled in with my back against the trunk. Thankfully, my rope was coming in handy again, and I tied myself to the tree so I wouldn't roll off as I tried to shut my eyes. Hopefully, when I woke, I'd feel a little stronger, both physically and magically.
It didn't take me long to drift off, but it felt like only a moment since I had closed my eyes that a sharp snap of a stick on the forest floor had me startling awake. My eyes felt like they were coated in sandpaper. I was so tired, and I rubbed them until another sound, soft whispers on the wind, reached my ears.
Stilling, I scanned the forest for the source. Suddenly, the tree I was tied to started to sway, tossing me back and forth, bending until I knew it would break any second now. Terror struck me, my fingers shaking as I tried to untie myself quickly. If I fell to the forest floor from this height, I would most likely die. Or, at the very least, I would wish I was dead.
I heard the creaking and groaning of the wood as the tree continued to bend first one way and then the other as if caught in a hurricane but without the winds. The force of my weight pushing against the rope had only ensured that the knots I had tied tightened. Scrabbling at the rope that had once been my salvation but was now most likely going to be the end of me, I pulled and twisted, breaking fingernails and tearing skin in the process. All that mattered was that I got out now.
The rope finally released, falling to the ground below as the tree swayed again. I hugged the limb, realizing there was no way I could climb down, but if I timed it right, I could drop without hurting myself. A loud crack sounded out through the near-silent forest, deafening in its intensity and signaling that I'd only get one chance at this. This tree was going down hard and fast.
As the tree started to fall, I maneuvered myself so that I could dangle, watching the ground approach faster than I had anticipated. Not yet. Not yet. Now. I told myself as I pushed backward off the tree, hoping to clear the other limbs as they came shattering to the ground, sending splinters off into the woods on impact.
Hitting the ground, I rolled, thankful for the Jiu Jitsu rolls that I'd drilled until they were second nature. Still, it hurt like a mother as I tumbled across rocks and limbs along the ground, the wind knocked from my lungs. Finally coming to a stop, I gasped in a breath, inhaling deep lungfuls of air as I tried to force my heart to calm down. I'd made it. I was in one piece, for the most part.
Rolling to my hands and knees, I went to push up to standing when I realized I wasn't alone. Four men and a Chosen were standing circled around me. The blonde I recognized as the bitch who'd pushed me into the servant and caused us to spill the drinks. Narrowing my eyes at her, I settled into my fighting stance, light on the balls of my feet and ready to move. “Genevieve. What a pleasure it is to see you again.”
Sue me. My sarcasm was always going to get me into trouble. “Look at the trash, boys. This filth thinks that she deserves the right to compete in these trials as if she's worthy,” she said, crossing her arms with a look of disgust on her face. Seriously, that was not a good look on her.
Obviously not knowing when to shut up, even when I was clearly outnumbered, I responded, “Didn't anyone ever tell you that jealousy is not a pretty shade of green on anyone? That includes you. Sorry to tell you, honey, but envy is so not your color.”
“As if I'd be jealous of some poor, human filth. You're nothing, and when I'm crowned Queen, I'll make sure you pay.” Smirking at me as if she knew something I didn't, she moved in until she was just out of range, speaking more quietly as she formed an air bubble around us, our orbs that followed us like RPG pets clearly outside of the soundproof barrier.
“In fact, if I happen to get rid of you during the trial, I've been assured that I will be crowned. Titania said to do whatever was necessary to ensure you didn't get out of this trial in one piece.”
“Is that so?” I asked, keeping an eye on her men from my peripheral vision. “Funny how you both feel the need to get rid of me. I mean, if I'm so trashy and so clearly not a threat, then why all the need to cheat?”
Clearly not happy with that point, she narrowed her eyes at me and crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts forward as she did so. “Somehow, you've found a way to cheat the system and have been able to get selected as a Chosen. There's no way someone like you, with so little of your own power, would be selected. The only reasonable explanation is that you're cheating somehow. I really don't care how you’re doing it, but I'll be damned if you take this from me. I've been preparing for this role my whole life, and some scummy piece of crap on the bottom of my boot isn't about to steal it from me.”
“You know, when I first got here, I would have agreed with you. I couldn't understand how someone like me was Chosen. But after meeting the current Queen and then you, I can totally see why Avalonia had to go to Earth to find a qualified contender.” Goading her even further, I continued. “I know it bothered you when Lennox was selected as my consort and not yours. Then I went and won the first trial without even trying. To be quite honest with you, I didn't want to be Queen. I simply wanted to return to my life on Earth.”
Giving that a moment to sink in, I continued, “But after seeing the damage that Titania has done and what someone like you would do, I can no longer walk away. I can't stand a bully, and that's exactly what people like you and her are. You can't get the power and loyalty you desire without forcing others to submit to you with no thought to anyone but yourselves.
“So, you can try to kill me, make sure I no longer compete, but I promise you this. I won't go down without a fight. I will take you with me one way or another. If you still feel brave enough, then come at me, bitch,” I challenged her.
She wavered, her eyes giving a brief glimpse of fear at my bravado before hardening, her hand moving until it looked like she was pulling something. The air from my lungs was being snatched from me as she smirked, confident in her victory. “Yes, I know that you've been weakened after your stint in the dungeons. Oh, and that little gift from the Queen has also ensured that you're pretty much left without any powers.”
Starting to gasp, my muscles weakening, I said, “You sure about that?”
As soon as the puzzled look crossed her face, I exploded forward, punching her with a jab, cross combo that knocked her from her feet and caused blood to gush from her nose, dropping the shield and letting blessed air back into my lungs. I fell to one knee, gasping in huge lungfuls of air, desperately trying to recover before she did.
“You bitch!” she screamed, holding her nose. One of her Consorts rushed to her side, but she brushed him off as she stood back up. Seemed like one of her Consorts’ powers wasn't healing. Ain't that a bitch .
My laughter only angered her further, causing her to rush me. I jumped to my feet and out of the way easily, but vines wrapped around my ankles, tripping me and sending my body crashing into the ground. “Who's laughing now, you stupid cunt?”
I fought to stop the vines from swarming me, but they quickly wrapped around my arms and legs, essentially pinning me to the ground. Genevieve stomped over to me, her hunting boots quite sturdy, as she studied me, held prone before her and completely at her mercy. Trying desperately, I searched for my men's magic, a trickle of power meeting my request. Not enough to help me in this moment, barely a drop in the bucket that was the size of an ocean.
“Take a good look at my face, cunt. It's the last one you'll see,” she told me, blood from her nose dripping down on the ground beside me. She smirked at me again before rearing back and kicking me hard in the ribs. I felt a couple of them snap, biting back a scream of pain, trying not to move and make the injury worse. The last thing I needed was a punctured lung.
“My boots have been reinforced with steel, so I'm sure that hurt like a bitch.” She walked around to my other side, dragging the moment out before kicking me again, twice. I felt another rib break and couldn't keep myself from trying to bend over, gagging as the second kick landed in my liver.
The vines still held me tightly as her men watched on, a wicked gleam in their eyes. I met each of their gazes as she kicked me again. As I cried out, I caught a glimpse of shame on one of their faces. He was the smallest of her men, pale and skinny but with a kind face.
The funny thing was, while I was the one getting the shit kicked out of me, I felt sorry for the guy. He had to live out the rest of his life tied to this bitch. No one deserved a fate like that.
She landed another blow, this one landing across my cheek and crushing it beneath the force of her steel-toed boot, sending stars across my vision. At this point, all the pain had started to bleed together, and I no longer felt her blows as they kept coming. It seemed that the less I reacted, the angrier she got and the more she kicked me, but the only thing that I found myself caring about was how my men would react.
Darkness swarmed the edges of my vision, and I prayed that it would take me. The part that bugged me the most was that I was completely helpless. I had promised her a fight, but against her power, I was nothing.
She kicked me again, a cry of pain escaping me against my will. The darkness still hadn't gotten any stronger, but it hadn't faded either. A tear leaked from my eye as I prayed even more fervently for the blessed release that unconsciousness would bring. But then the darkness moved, a gentle caress against my non-fractured cheek. A whisper greeted me, “Hold on. They're coming.” Peace and happiness settled over me at that thought.
Even though I hadn't passed out, I was now hallucinating. The smudge of darkness greeted me like a lover, and the smell of night dew wafted through my mind. Love swarmed down the bond, seeming stronger than I'd felt in almost a week. So, that's what that felt like. To be loved. If I died here, I would at least know what it felt like. A smile crossed my face as I finally passed out.