I stumbled as Master pulled me forward. I had unintentionally slowed down. I tried to keep my composure as we entered the champions’ quarters, but my legs felt weak and I couldn’t keep my hands from shaking.
Master did not speak. As we passed the other two champions’ cell doors, they appeared, to see who had arrived. The champion 140, when he viewed Master, reddened in the face. His hands were gripping the bar with incredible strength. If looks could kill, Master would be drawing his last breath.
When we arrived at 901’s cell, he was already waiting beyond the door, blades in hand, ready for battle. As it did every night, my heart skipped a beat when I saw him. He was wearing his black pants, his feet bare. His chest glistened in a sheen of sweat. I knew it was from the exercises he did to warm up his muscles for the fight. His blond hair was in a messy disarray, but his blue eyes were bright.
They immediately dulled when he saw me on Master’s arm.
Master appeared cool and collected, but his arm linking with mine tensed to the point that he hurt me. My nostrils flared at the pain.
“901,” Master said smugly, stepping closer to the cell door. I had noticed in the past few weeks that the guards kept a safe distance from 901 when he was at his cell door. Maya had told me how everyone feared him, how he had killed several guards just for killing’s sake. But Master got so close that if he wanted, 901 could have hurt him very badly. Master didn’t even seem threatened.
Master pushed me in front of him, my back at his chest. His hands lifted to grip my upper arms. His hold was unyielding.
When I looked up, 901’s cheek twitched. It was the only sign that he was affected by our presence. Master stayed silent for a long second, until he drew back my hair, baring my shoulder. The shoulder he had bitten, the one that was already red, bruised, and swollen.
A low growl rumbled in 901’s chest. He was staring at my new wound. I ducked my eyes in embarrassment. Master tensed at 901’s reaction, then leaned down and ran his nose along the side of my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut in repulsion. I didn’t want him to touch me. He hurt me. But more than that, I didn’t want 901 to see Master with me this way. If I could help it, he would never know that Master had just taken me, brutally and raw. I wanted to keep 901 safe.
But that was shattered when, wordlessly, Master bent down and lifted my dress. With every revealed inch of my legs bared, I became more and more breathless. My chest ached when he bared my core for 901’s viewing. Master’s release was still on my thighs. He was showing 901 what he’d done.
The air in the champions’ quarters thickened until I felt caged and hot. When I finally opened my eyes, unable to stand the tension crackling between us, it was too see 901 radiating with rage. His muscles were taut, protruding with veins. His teeth were gritted together. I could see he was about to explode.
I tried to capture his attention. I implored him to meet my eyes, but his gaze was transfixed on my thighs. It was only seconds later when 901 released a livid roar and charged the cell door that I shouted out as his shoulder slammed into the rigid metal bars. But Master didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch. When I glanced back to see Master’s face, it was lit with triumph. My heart stuttered in its beat. He wanted this. He was breaking his champion.
He had used me to achieve it.
I hated myself at this moment. But not as much as I hated Master.
901 reared back and hit the bars again. “No!” I called out. “Stop!” 901 immediately stilled, his chest rising and falling in rapid movements. He met my pleading eyes.
But Master’s smile had fallen. In its place was the male that had taken me only a short while ago. Dread infused me. By my plea I had shown that I cared.
“Get off her,” 901 snarled when Master moved to the side of me. My arms fell to my sides as I waited for what he would do. When Master reacted, I was unprepared. In a flash, Master balled his hand into a fist and rammed it into my stomach. White-hot pain splintered throughout my body. I leaned forward, gasping at this sudden loss of breath. I heard 901 shaking the metal bars, but I couldn’t straighten to ask him to calm.
That was quickly resolved when Master took me by my hair and forced me to stand straight. I bit my lip to hold back my cry. Just as my eyes collided with 901’s, Master’s hand swung out and slapped me across my face. My cheek burned at the feel of his strong backhand. This time I did cry out. The injury on my cheek pulsed, but Master wasn’t done.
Moving in front of me, his back to 901, he struck me again in my stomach with his fist, then again in my ribs. My legs gave way and I started to fall. Master’s arms caught me before I hit the floor, and he wrapped me in his arms. “Shh, petal,” he murmured, seeming to comfort me by stroking his hand gently through my hair. He acted as though he hadn’t just been the deliverer of my pain.
Over his shoulder, I saw 901 lift his blades. I watched in horror as 901 went to strike Master’s back. Sheer terror held me in its grip. 901 would die if he killed Master. As the blades readied to plunge through the metal bars, I pulled Master back and shouted, “No!”
Master moved with me, and I saw 901’s blades stop at my demand. The tip of the Kindjal froze halfway through the bar. Master turned his head to view his champion.
Master lost his footing as he held me but quickly regained his ground. I lifted my head in disbelief. In this moment, seeing how close he had come to death, Master was shaken.
In this brief loss of composure, I saw how much he feared 901.
Master straightened and pulled me back. He took me in his arms and smiled so wide when he looked at me. “Mona,” he whispered, “You saved me.” The expression on his face, the glint in his eyes was something knew. Something unexpected.
It was gratitude. It was pure affection.