“Don’t worry, I’ll make this quick. Sadly, I don’t have enough time to play with you.”
I spin around slowly in the narrow path, facing the owner of that cold voice and even colder brown eyes.
“Blair,” I say stiffly.
She steps towards me with a smile twisting her lips. “Hello, Paedyn.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask coolly. “Have you already forgotten what I did to your nose the last time we fought?”
“No,” she practically snarls, “I haven’t forgotten.”
I take a step back, branches clawing at my arms, foot protesting in pain. I open my mouth to spout off another remark to buy me more time, but nothing comes out. In fact, air isn’t getting in.
And then my feet leave the ground.
I’m gasping, clawing at my neck though I know there isn’t a hand constricting my windpipe. No, this is the work of nothing more than Blair’s twisted mind. Her signature move. I’m dangling in the air, several feet off the ground, choking.
“Just because I’m going to make this quick, doesn’t mean it won’t be painful.” She gives me a pout. “Sorry, Paedyn. We don’t always get what we want, do we?”
My vision blurs, making it difficult to see the hand stretched towards me or the wicked smile curving her lips. I can just barely breathe. Despite her promise to make this quick, she’s drawing this out.
Think. Think.
I need to get close enough to her to land a blow. Our spar after the ball taught me all I need to know about the lack of physical fighting she does. If I can just get close to her…
If I can just breathe.
“You would know a lot about not getting what you want.” My voice is a croak, a pitiful excuse at sounding passive. Just using the limited air I have to speak those words has my head spinning, has me praying that she’ll take the bait.
Her hold loosens. Barely.
There is a question in her eyes, one I intend to answer.
“Kai.” His name tumbles out of my mouth, breathless.
Blair’s stare is sharper than my dagger I so desperately wish I had right now. “The princes,” I continue with a cough. “Kai and Kitt both. You can’t have either of them.” I pause before choking out, “Because they don’t want you.”
I slam into the ground.
The little air I had whooshes out of me. I’m left panting, my face half-buried in the sand.
Get up.
I lift my head and push shaky arms underneath me, slowly making it to my feet. And alarmingly, Blair lets me. A fit of coughing laughter escapes me when my eyes meet hers.
I hold her gaze, now burning with anger.
That’s it. Get mad enough to hurt me with your own two hands.
“Tell me, what’s it like? Being rejected over and over and—”
I don’t even get the chance to finish my sentence before I’m thrown through the air and crashing back into the sand. Coughing, catching my breath, I begin rolling over onto my back.
Blinding pain shoots through my ribs.
I curl into myself, my only defense against the hard boot connecting with my stomach. I crack an eye open, catching sight of Blair’s livid face above me, contorted in rage.
“Never forget that your wit is a weapon to be wielded, if only your mind can be as sharp as your blade.”
I smile despite the pain.
I have her right where I want her.
Her foot drives into my stomach again, and this time, I catch it. I hear her gasp of surprise when I twist it terribly before yanking it towards me, sending her crashing to the ground.
I’ve knocked the wind out of her, something I know she isn’t used to feeling, not when she’s always had her power to hide behind. I’m crawling on top of her in an instant, pinning her arms down beneath my knees. She growls up at me, her gaze filled with guttural rage.
I know I only have time for one hit before she recovers and throws me off with her mind. So I make that hit count.
I slide my father’s ring onto my middle finger and send a hard right hook to her temple, hitting that sensitive spot on her head with very little sensitivity.
And just like that, she’s out cold.
But not for long. She’ll wake within the next couple of minutes, and by then, I’ll be lost in the maze and hopefully far away. Because next time we meet, I have a feeling she’ll crush my heart on sight.
I stumble to my feet, body aching. Every inch of me screams in protest, staggers with each step. But I force myself forward, force myself to pick up speed.
I’m lost in the madness of the maze again, second guessing each path I take, wondering if the other would have led to my victory.
Left or right?
Left. Definitely left.
Definitely not, seeing that it’s a dead end.
Every few minutes I hear a cry of pain or sounds of a struggle blending with the shouts of the crowd far beyond these walls. Sights stand in the paths, startling me so much that I nearly punch half of them. But as soon as they see me coming, they move out of my way as best they can. I feel sorry for them, sorry that the things they have witnessed have been permanently burned into their brains.
The maze rearranges itself for the dozenth time, forcing me off my closing path and onto a new one.
I want to scream.
I turn right down a path at random before skidding to a stop.
There, at the end of this narrow path, is a sandy, open circle.
The center.
The victory.
My victory.
