“This here is the training area.” The guard who spoke swept his hand through the air, gesturing to what I could only describe as an underground cavern.
After being woken by a bright, blinding light, a deep male voice had boomed, “Up we get, fighters. It’s time for your first training session.”
A guard had come in after that with our breakfast. A smorgasbord of eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns and toast. Each and every plate had been overloaded with so much food that it was practically falling to the ground.
At first, I’d been suspicious. Usually, prisoners were served the bare minimum. Just enough food to stay alive. The less energy prisoners had the better, so if they tried to escape, they couldn’t get very far.
But Talon was doing the opposite by going overboard with the food. Once I’d figured it out, it all made perfect sense, really. The Til Death Games were his baby. His only way to the fame, admiration and respect he so desperately craved. He wouldn’t get that if the fighters passed out from dehydration and malnutrition.
The same principle applied to the training. He needed the fighters in the best possible condition to guarantee a good, entertaining fight.
So, our location made perfect sense to me.
After eating breakfast, we were all led down dark, gloomy corridors and long winding staircases in single file until we got to that room. The ground was covered entirely in hard, dense sand. Rows of weapons lined the walls; swords, spears, knives, axes and different sized shields. Lit tiki torches surrounded a makeshift ring in the centre of the room. I felt like I’d been plucked right out of the twenty-first century and dumped into a time where Roman gladiators fought each other mercilessly for the appeasement of others.
Given what I knew about what was to take place there, it wasn’t that far off.
“You will be brought here twice a day to practise,” the guard continued, walking down the line with his hands behind his back, expression hard. “Whether you choose to train or not is entirely up to you. We’re not going to hold your hands and walk you through it. Last year’s games were single matches. This year, it’s pairs fighting. Your cellmate is your partner. Everyone else is your competition. If you and your partner make it to the end, you’ll be granted your freedom.”
I scoffed.
The guard cut me an angry look. I held his stare. The chances of Talon actually letting the winners go was slim to none. They would have seen too much, know too much about his operations. But you had to give people something to fight for, otherwise there would be no point in playing along with any of it.
“As I was saying, train or don’t train. It’s up to you. I don’t need to tell you what a serious disadvantage it is not to practise with your partner in a pairs fight. It’s crucial to learn each other’s moves and anticipate each other’s actions so you can both move on to the next round. In the event that your partner dies, you will move on by yourself. You will not be awarded another partner. Watching each other’s back is important if you don’t want to end up fighting in the next round all on your own. Defeating two opponents at once is doable, but extremely difficult. Don’t risk it. If your partner dies, so will you. It will just be a matter of time. Now, for the rules. There is to be no killing or seriously injuring other fighters. Any disputes you may have can be settled in the arena. Should you be caught significantly injuring another fighter to the point where they are unable to compete, your life shall be forfeited.”
Some outraged gasps came from the other prisoners. Autumn and I glanced at each other. The knowing glint in her eyes matched my own. Had we not reached an agreement with one another, we still would have tried to kill each other, consequences be damned.
“Should you try to escape, your life shall be forfeited. Should you attempt to attack any of the guards with any of the weapons you see here, your life shall be forfeited. Should you attempt to remove any of the weapons from this room, your—”
“Life shall be forfeited. God, this guy is like a broken fucking record,” Autumn mumbled under her breath.
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. It’s not even that fucking funny.
“Spend your time in this room wisely. The first round of the Til Death Games will commence a lot sooner than you think.”
Restlessness moved through the other prisoners. The guard glanced at his watch. “You have three hours left of this morning’s session.” When no one moved, his brows slammed down into a frown. “Well? Get to it!” he barked.
Half the prisoners jumped and scurried off. The other half, though, did exactly what I did: stare, unimpressed, not the least bit intimidated by the guard’s outburst.
“These are the ones to watch out for,” Autumn whispered at my side, her eyes locked firmly on the prisoners still around us.
I grunted in agreement. In this, she couldn’t be more right.
There were a few prisoners I’d already deemed a significant threat, purely based on their build and demeanor, all of whom were now studying me as carefully as I was them.
People peeled off into their pairs. Autumn and I moved to one of the corners of the room, far enough away so we couldn’t be overheard but still close enough so that we could watch the others.
She shuffled closer to me, her body almost touching mine, and lowered her voice. “Alright, Butcher, it’s time to come clean. Tell me everything you know.”
I looked at her. She was only a few inches shorter than me. She’d somehow managed to tame that chaotic mess of red hair. It sat in a tight bun on the top of her head, the tiny tendrils too short to be put up framing her face.
I’d never been so close to her before—not without trying to kill her, that was. I could see all the little details I’d been too preoccupied to notice before. The spattering of freckles on her nose. The tiny flecks of brown in her eyes. The fullness of her lips.
Something stirred in my lower belly.
What—
“Butcher.” She clicked her fingers right in front of my face. “Focus now, daydream later. We’ve got to prepare, or have you failed to notice that you and I are currently public enemy number one?”
She had a point. A lot of the other pairs were watching us cautiously with a slight hint of fear and trepidation. Those who saw our fights in the ring when we first arrived would know what a significant threat we were individually, and suddenly, we were working together, making us an even bigger threat.
“Of course I noticed,” I hissed down at her, and now we were glaring at each other.
Again.
Honestly, it would be a goddamn miracle if we were actually able to work together efficiently.
“You know more about this whole thing than you’re letting on, and now that we’re” —she ran her tongue over her teeth like the word she was about to say left a foul taste in her mouth— “partners, the more prepared I am, the better for both of us.”
Annoyingly, she had a point. Again.
I put my arm against the wall behind her and leant closer. “Everybody here, whether they look like it or not, has the capability to end your life. The people Talon selects for his games are highly trained and highly skilled. The games would be boring if they weren’t.”
“What exactly is this Til Death Games? I’ve never heard of them before.”
“No, I suspect not,” I sighed. “You don’t exactly have the net worth for that kind of information.”
She arched an eyebrow. “And what do you know of my net worth, Butcher?”
“All I need to know. That it isn’t high enough. If it was, you would have received an invitation to attend. Now, do you want me to keep going?”
“What I want is for you to stop being such a stuck-up, snobbish asshole.”
“Snobbish,” I stated incredulously.
“I didn’t stutter. Yes, snobbish. Surely, this can’t be the first time someone has called you that.”
Yes, actually, it was. People didn’t speak to me the way she did. Most of them were too scared to. I’d flayed men alive for lesser transgressions.
“I am not stuck-up, nor am I snobbish.”
“Right, and I don’t like to have my hair pulled and my ass spanked during sex,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes and looking out into the room.
I stiffened. Despite the fact that I didn’t want it to, the image of what she described barrelled into my mind. Her, bent over in front of me, my hand wrapped around those thick, red locks, her ass red and covered in handprints.
My handprints.
What. The. Fuck?
The comment seemed to have been made flippantly, almost like an afterthought on her account, like she hadn’t meant that particular scenario with me. Yet, I’d envisioned it anyway.
Her gaze swung back to me. Her whole body locked into place, eyes widening slightly.
Usually, I was an expert at hiding my emotions. People only saw what I wanted them to see. But that feeling… That hot, burning need scorching in my veins stunned me so much that I was unable to hide it.
Something primal passed between us. Something dark. Powerful. Animalistic. We’d somehow moved even closer to each other. I wasn’t sure who moved first. Was it me? Was it her? We were suddenly only mere inches from each other, so close that I could almost feel her heart pounding in her chest, feel her breath fan out over my throat.
My eyes moved to her lips. More thoughts shoved their way into my head. Dirty, vile thoughts. It was like now that one had managed to get through, more and more were slamming into me, and I was powerless to stop them.
