The Lycan King's Defiant Surrogate

Chapter

28

With my sword resting at my side, I don't sleep at all that night. When the morning comes, and the Pitmaster summons me, I'm almost relieved to finally face my fate. Lying awake all night stressing and dreading this moment has not been kind to my mind and body. I'm not suicidal, but I want this stress to end

"They rushed this scheduling on purpose," the Pitmaster says as she leads me down away from the main area where we practiced and slept. Along the wall, I see a rod-iron gate blocking what appears to be a lift. Two guards stand at either side of it, no one within. The Pitmaster continues, "They didn't want to give you time to properly train. This was only ever about punishment for you. Whatever you did to earn the ire of the king, he must hate you for it." "He does," I say, though she isn't really listening to me.

"With more time, I could have molded you into someone who might have stood a chance. As it is now, those beasts are going to eat you alive. The King knows it too. He wants it to happen."

At the gate, the Pitmaster nods to the guards who start to open As they do, she turns to me.

"It is unlikely, but if you have any hope of surviving this, never let your guard down. Remember, your blade is an exsion of your arm. Never drop it."

A lift the blade slightly, showing her I'm listening.

She gives me a pitying look. "I'm very sorry for everything that is about to happen to you."

Before I can reply the gate opens up and the Pitmaster ushers me past it, onto the lift Alone. The guards close the gates behind me.

I look back at the Pitmaster, but she has already turned away.

This is it just me and my fate

The lift slow begins to climb,

now.

Unlike other elevators I've ridden in, this one is not an enclosed box. Rather, it's a single platform under my feet that rises and rises.

Looking up, I see only darkness. Then, no. A slit of bright light suddenly appears. When it opens farther, I squeeze my eyes shut. There are very few lights in the bowels of the coliseum. Wherever I am headed now seems flooded with in.

The roar of a crowd echoes down the elevator shaft. As I full ascend and the base of the elevator comes to a stop, the noise is near deafening.

Then, I realize the crowd is booing me.

Trailor!" someone screams, and then someone else does too, until the entire arena shouts again and again, Traitor!"

"Trutor!

Blinking, I force my eyes to adjust to the new light.

Looking around, I find myself standing in the center of the sandy arena, the only bare spot the elevator lift under my feet, In the lifted seats around me are thousands of people - possibly hundreds of thousands.

On a platform jutting forward from the rest is a single throne. Even at his distance from me, I can tell that Caleb is there.

watching me.

93%

Caleb expects Harper to cower in fear. She's been brave up until his point, standing against him at every turn, denying him the location of his child. But surely here, now, when faced with thousands of people mocking her and the reality of her upcoming, gruesome death, she will surrender.

She will tell him what he wants to know and save herself.

As expected, she appears frightened, spinning around, unsure where to put her back. There's no safe place in the arena.

Yet even afraid, she still lifts her sword as if she intends to fight.

"Impossible," Caleb curses under his breath. Does she not understand the danger here? Has she no sense of self-preservation!

Tristan, standing at Caleb's side, watches him almost as intently as Caleb watches Harper. With irritation, Caleb can feel tell he's being seen.

"She is foolishly brave," Tristan says.

"She is only testing me," Caleb replies curtly. He did not give Tristan permission to speak, and wouldn't in front of all these people. "She still thinks I will save her from the maws of my beasts."

"Will you?"

Turning sharply. Caleb glares at Tristan. "Mind your tongue, Bet You speak too freely as of late."

Tristan lowered his head in apologetic reverence and stepped backwards.

Without his beta's incessant chattering. Caleb returned his attention to the matter at hand in front of him. Mainly, the wild-eyed woman down in the sand.

If she believes him to be merciful, then she has no idea who she is dealing with.

Caleb lifts his hand, a signal to the gate-wardens and beast handlers,

The crowd cheers as at several locations around the round arena pit, the gates holding back the animals begin to lift.

From the dark pits beyond the gates, three lionesses surge into the arena, snarling sharply as they come forth. Gifts from a foreign king, they are agile and strong, while also bred for their viciousness. These are not mere wild lions. They were born in captivity for the sake of the fight. They were made for this.

Fear rattles through Harper's ribcage, but she has no time to dwell on it while in the ring with three snarling lions.

The crowd cheers as the lions circle around me, eyeing me as their prey.

Lionesses are used to hunting in groups. This competition was never going to be fair.

Once, briefly, I think of falling onto my own sword, ending my suffering before the lions can tear me apart, but as soon as the thought crosses my mind, I dismiss it.

I may be facing impossible odds, but I don't want to die.

I'm going to fight until my last breath.

One of the lions darts closer, quickly. I slash at it to keep it back

The crowd roars its approval, Sickening, that so many people would take pleasure in this. They know my slim chances. They know the lions are going to rip me apart. But that's what they want to see, isn't it? Camage.

Combined with their perceived justice. To them, I am a traitor to the crown. They have no idea that I've been telling the truth all along.

Another lion draws too close. I slice with warning at that one as well.

The third growls at me.

The circle they are making around me has been growing smaller. Soon they will all be upon me.

"You want me?!" I shout at them, adrenaline and blind dumb courage pushing me forward. "Then come taste my blade!

Another darts toward me. I swing at it, forcing that one back. But a second uses this opening to its advantage and swings at me. I lurch forward at the last moment, but the tips of its claws scrape across my back, tearing through my tunic and a layer of skin underneath. The wound stings, but it's not deep. I can keep going, even as blood drips down my back.

Turning I swing, forcing that lion back, only to find the third moving closer.

"Stay back, damn it!" I shout and make another wild swing. And another. Spinning in circles, I swing as much as I can to keep them back away from me.

Already, I'm growing weary.

I can't give up. I won't give up. I keep swinging.

But a hopelessness starts to rise up within me.

I'm going to die here.