Russel watched the beginning part of the fight, his nerves a bundle of tightly wound wires. Every time Drake came for Lola, he felt his heart jump in his chest. He tried not to let himself be so overcome with worry that he lost his mind to it. That, however, was a hard thing for him. His body kept twitching like it wanted to jump out of his seat and race down to the Pit to rescue her. It was powerful, that urge. He glanced over at King Finley once during this whole endeavor and found him staring fixedly back. The Harvenk king gave Russel a barely perceptible shake of his head, warning him against doing what he clearly wanted to do. He hated the man for telling him not to run in and fight for Lola but he was right. Interrupting a lawful, formal Blood Challenge would almost always result in that person’s own death as well as the immediate execution of the person they were trying to save in the first place. There were slight exceptions to the rule but for the most part, that one was ironclad. He was sure that Drake would push hard for the harshest punishment possible if he succumbed to his desire to race in and save her.

Russel stayed in his seat, not wanting to give the bastard the satisfaction of an easy kill.

“Focus on something else other than the fight,” Ays whispered.

Clearly, he’d noticed Russel’s agitation.

“It will do you no favors to watch this,” he went on. After he was done, he heard Ays sit back in his seat.

Russel wished it could be that easy. But he couldn’t turn away. He had to watch the fight all the way through. If Lola fell, then he would watch that too. It was the only thing he could do for her at that moment.

Drake had drawn first blood and as soon as he did, it had an evident and quick effect on Lola’s confidence. That, along with the fact that Drake was relying more and more heavily on the wolf, made it hard for Lola to gain an edge. Her strong defensive fighting style at the beginning of the match was eroding before his eyes. She took another hit, this time to the side of her head, bloody furrows splitting the skin there and shredding her ear. Blood fell in a sheet down that side of her and her footing wavered. She stumbled, allowing Drake to deliver a powerful blow to her right side. The hit threw her to the ground and she rolled several feet before coming to a stop. Russel was forced to watch, horror filling him, as she lay there unmoving.

“Get up!” he screamed. His voice roared over the constant shouting and cheering from the crowds. He suppressed the urge to race around the benches so he could rip off the head of anyone praising Drake for the hit he just scored on Lola. “Get up, Lola! I know you aren’t done. I know you won’t let it end like this.”

He sucked in a breath and roared again.

“Get up!”

He screamed this so loudly that it practically drowned out all other noise. The tendons in the sides of his neck stood out in stark relief and his face turned an almost cherry red. He felt his entire body seize up, stiffening in anticipation of what the next few moments would bring.

****

“Get up!”

Lola heard Russel’s roar, his crazy loud command, for her to get up off the ground. To keep fighting, essentially. She didn’t want to. She wasn’t going to lie to herself or sugarcoat it. The pain of her wounds was distracting. And then there was Drake himself. He was too fast. Too strong. She’d landed maybe one blow on him and that had been a laughably useless effort. The best she could’ve hoped for was to continue her defensive strategy. Run. Block. Evade. Dodge. Wait for a moment to put him down somehow. She had no idea how to do that, true, but she hoped going into the fight that inspiration, at some point, would hit and she would be able to figure it out. She wasn’t even sure how to kill a werewolf other than with a gun like Hank had used on the Oclan spy. She didn’t have one of those handy and even if she did, she was pretty sure that would probably go against the spirit of a Blood Challenge.

But she had killed a werewolf before.

She had killed Nora.

The problem with that was she still didn’t know how she did it and the experience had been so traumatic, she still couldn't bring herself to figure it out. It weakened her, she knew. Because of that, she was having trouble unleashing her full potential.

In other words, she was holding back.

It’s Drake! her mind screamed at her. He killed everyone you loved. Now is not the time to hold back.

She struggled to get to her feet. Her arm was burning with pain and the side of her head felt…worrisome. She wasn’t sure what was going on with it but it felt almost cold. Or numb. She couldn’t hear out of that ear anymore either.

“Fucking pathetic!” Drake said, goading her. He came to a stop next to her, raised a leg, and then stomped it into her unprotected side. She screamed in pain, several ribs snapping and breaking inside her. “Fucking.” He stomped her again. “Pathetic!” Another stomp.

He took a step back, leaned down, and spoke to her.

“You filthy fucking half-breed bitch,” Drake snarled. “Everything would have been so much easier if you had just died in Gloucester.”

She coughed, blood splattering the dirt floor of the pit as she did.

“Fuck..” she coughed again and tried to breathe. “Off…asshole.”

“Not this time, dear sister.” He laughed cruelly.

She struggled to get up. To get away from him. Her body, however, didn’t want to respond to her. All it did was shout with alarm bells about the pain wracking her. She couldn't tell if it was her broken ribs, her slashed arm, or the shredded ruin of her head crying for her attention. Maybe all of the above but she thought she had heard somewhere the mind could only focus on one pain at a time. Considering what she was currently feeling, she was not inclined to believe whatever idiot had mentioned that to her.

Faintly, she thought she heard some kind of rushing sound in her ears. What was that? Was that the ocean? Maybe some waves. In her pain-addled brain, she couldn’t comprehend the sound was her own blood rushing through her broken body.

I can’t do this, she said miserably to herself. She wanted to break down. Wanted to give up. Everything inside her was shouting at her to just let Drake kill her and be done with it. At least then, she would be freed from all the pain and misery she felt. And she could see her parents again. She could be with them again in whatever life existed after her current one exhausted itself. Some of the more religious folk she’d met in her life had said life after death was a paradise, but only if you had led a good life and were a dutiful follower of the gods.

Am I a good person? she asked herself. She sure as hell wasn’t a dutiful follower of the gods.

“Giving up now?” Drake asked with a derisive snort right before he kicked her in the stomach. “That’s the smartest thing you’ve done so far.”

He delivered another kick, this one hard enough to send her rolling across the dirt again. She felt the breath whoosh out of her, heard Russel and her biological father shout her name. Blackness crept across her vision.

This is it. She was a dead woman. Nothing she could do was ever going to be enough to stop Drake.

But something inside her, some deep inner power she had only ever felt the faint stirrings of whispered in the back of her mind. Iciness rippled along her spine again and this time, it spread through the rest of her body.

Let go. Let go.

She didn’t want to though. A wall inside her prevented that from happening. It had erected itself there after the fight with Nora and she had no idea how to tear it down. On the other side was the truth. A truth she was just now realizing she’d faced before and it had been so terrifying she’d shut down for days, barely able to talk or think or even move.

On the other side was a monster.

Her monster.

The werewolf inside her? Or something else?

She didn’t know and whatever it was, it had killed Nora so easily and with absolutely no trouble. It had ripped into her. It tore apart her body. It had ended a life. A thinking, feeling life. It didn’t matter to her that the life in question belonged to a sadistic hell-bitch intent on killing her first. The terror she’d felt in those moments had been much more extreme than anything she felt now.

Should I let that thing go?

As if in answer, images of her father and mother burning came unbidden to her mind. Her village in flames too. And the people of Gloucester who had been like family to her themselves. Even Russel, a man who she had grown to love so deeply just the thought of not being able to be with him caused its own sort of physical pain.

If she didn’t tear down that wall, Drake would only do the same thing to others. Or worse, take over the throne and become an unhinged terror unleashed on the world. More people would suffer. More families would be ripped apart.

Let go.

They were words, she now realized, from that part beyond the wall in her head. A soothing whisper from her chained monster. It knew what needed to be done.

But Lola stood firmly in its way.

Let go.

She sucked in a ragged, shuddery breath and opened her eyes.

“Fine!” she shouted, letting the word rip out of her like she was expelling something hideous from her body

Drake laughed again but she ignored him. He stalked toward her, claws outstretched and ready to finally put an end to the troublesome, irritating girl. The girl who had threatened his very position in life. The girl he’d sworn he would kill no matter what.

It was time to stop dragging this fight on.

His hand flashed down at her. His plan was to grab her by the back of her head and yank her to her feet so he could rip her throat out. Instead, Lola’s arm flashed outward, so quickly he didn’t even see it. A grip like steel wrapped around his wrist and clamped down. He felt the bones there break and get pulverized in an instant. He let out a surprised scream of sudden, massive pain. Confusion swept through him.

What the hell? was the only thing his mind had time to ask before Lola’s head snapped up to him and he saw her eyes for the first time.

They glowed with intense, silvery light.