Chapter 4 ~ Aftermath And More…

{Ragna’s POV}

There were people who would be bothered about the aftermath of them losing and then there was me.

I didn’t really care what came next. I just cared that I lost and cared enough to never want to permit it again. 

Meanwhile, I was dragged through the blood gate now, the sound cutting off the moment it slammed shut behind us.

The tunnels were quieter; not kinder. Just less interested and the Iron Wardens dropped me onto the stone floor like I was a sack of cabbages rather than a living thing.

Pain settled in properly now, sharp and insistent, like it had been waiting for privacy before making itself known. While my breathing became something I had to negotiate with until it stabilized. 

I managed to roam my gaze around to find Selene but didn’t see her.

Instead, I saw the girl who had fought before me and lost. Apparently she was having a hard time getting up also so she was also folded on the floor like me.

It was supposed to be comforting having a partner in agony but honestly, it made things more humiliating and this ended up motivating me to rise to my feet. 

I groaned as I did and soon I was inching forward.  

“You shouldn’t go through the Bone Yard right now,” the girl behind me muttered but I continued pacing. 

“I heard that if you lose a fight, they will…”

I zoned out of her voice as I kept going, concluding that whatever she was saying was irrelevant. Because it was in this moment, my core focus was seeing Darian and then returning to my kennel to beat up myself for losing my first fight. 

And so I got to the Boneyard, the brutish training ground I had been introduced to earlier— where fighters bashed and wounded themselves as routine, conversations and violence existed comfortably side by side. 

There were Older bloods everywhere, an unfair amount and I got to a rear when I noticed attention shift 

One of them stepped into my path, not aggressively at first, just enough to make it clear that continuing forward would require cooperation.

Her eyes moved over me slowly, taking everything in.

“Well,” she said, almost thoughtfully, “that didn’t take long.”

A few others turned at that, interest flickering into place.

“Oh, she’s one of them fingerlings,” another added, amused. “Didn’t even last the count.”

I didn’t answer. It didn’t feel like a statement that required my participation. So I tried to move past them instead but then a hand caught my shoulder.

Firm.

Intentional.

“Ouu,” someone else said, amusement slipping into her voice, “she thinks she’s busy. Want to go pray?”

More of them shifted closer, not fully surrounding me, but beginning to.

“First fight?” A new one inquired from the others for which they responded. 

I didn’t react.

“That explains the thin limbs.” She said and laughter erupted.

“Speak, fingerling.” The one directly in front of me said now and then she shoved me so that I stumbled before catching myself. Irritation rose within me before I could stop it.

“Look at her shake,” she added, laughing and stepping closer once again. She stepped too close to me…

…so I shoved her.

**

That… probably wasn’t the best move to make in this type of situation.

Because now, a number of fists came fast and clean, slamming into my chin and I, hard enough to drop me before I could react. 

The impact rang through my skull as the ground met me again in a way that was becoming uncomfortably familiar.

A kick followed, rough. Intense. 

“Stay down!” A voice roared. 

And then two stumps landed as more voices rang. 

“This one got nerves.”

“If the Arena doesn’t finish you, we will.”

“Fingerling!”

Sand hit my face a second later, scattered carelessly as they stepped back, the interest fading just as quickly as it had formed.

And just like that, they were done with me. This was the cost of losing— and what the other girl had warned me about. 

I stayed where I was for a moment before pushing myself up again, slower this time. 

My rib ached more now and the best move to make was clearly me returning to my Kennel cage but then I still went on.

I still needed to see Darian.

The visitation courtyard was a space that linked to the outside world, one where important personnels who unfortunately had daughters in the Arena could come see them.

My mother couldn’t come because she was a female and didn’t hold any social status. She would only be allowed to see me on the proper visitation day. 

Conversely, Darian was a male, which meant the rules bent for him in ways they never would for my mother, so I knew he would be waiting to see me.

Sad but useful.

I pushed through the archway into the visitation courtyard now, ignoring the way my body argued against movement.

The space was already thinning out, a few scattered reunions lingering at the edges while Iron wardens hovered nearby with the patience of people who enjoyed ending things.

My eyes moved quickly through the crowd.

Once.

Twice.

Slower the third time.

He wasn’t here.

I stood still for a moment, scanning again like he might appear if I looked hard enough, like this was some kind of game where persistence was rewarded.

Still nothing.

Just strangers. Voices that didn’t matter. And faces that weren’t his.

I exhaled slowly, shifting my weight despite the quiet warning from my aching muscles.

Maybe because I had taken too long…

Maybe those idiots in the Bone Yard had delayed me just enough to miss him…

These thoughts settled easier than the alternative, so I kept it that way. 

“Great timing,” I muttered under my breath, wiping at the dried blood beneath my nose as I turned away.

Because of course my first fight ended in a loss and I had my first reunion on the same day.

Today is just perfect.

The walk back through the tunnels felt longer this time and voices followed me in pieces as I passed.

“That’s one of the ones that lost their first fight.” 

“Fresh Blood. Clumped blood.” 

“That nose looks completely fucked.”

One shoulder clipped mine as someone walked past, deliberate enough to be noticed, casual enough to be deniable.

“Careful,” she said lightly, not even looking back. “Wouldn’t want you kissing the ground again.”

I didn’t respond.

Mostly because if I did, I might have followed her just to see how many teeth she could function without.

But I wasn’t entirely sure I had the energy for that right now, especially with her size. So I kept walking.

My kennel didn’t look welcoming in any way. 

Which felt rude, considering everything I had been through.

I sat down anyway, leaning back against the cold stone as my body finally took the opportunity to complain properly. The fight replayed whether I asked it to or not— every movement, every mistake, every moment where I could have done something different.

My first hit.

The tables turning.

My nose…

I carefully touched it now and it bit back with pain so I left it. I then pressed my tongue against the inside of my cheek, tasting iron.

It was annoying. 

Not the pain.

The loss.

I had been winning. Or at least I had been close enough to convince myself I was. Which, in hindsight, was probably where things went wrong.

Selene’s voice drifted back into my memory now. 

Stay low…

Go for the ribs…

Simple advice.

Simple and useful advice. But one I had completely ignored.

I huffed out a quiet breath, tilting my head back against the wall.

“Brilliant,” I muttered. Because apparently, I preferred learning things the hard way.

It took me a few minutes to stand again due to the ache all around me but eventually I pushed myself upright and stepped back into the corridor.

If Selene had been willing to help before, she might still be willing to now because it was obvious I needed more direction. 

Not sympathy or comfort.

Just more guidance to ensure that this doesn’t happen again. 

Preferably the kind that would stop me from getting bashed around like that again.

**

Finding her kennel was more complicated than it should have been.

The Arena, it turned out, was not designed with navigation in mind. Or kindness. Or anything remotely helpful.

After two wrong turns and one very unhelpful set of directions that I suspected had been given purely for entertainment, I finally found the right Kennel row.

Selene’s kennel wasn’t hard to identify.

It was slightly less miserable than the others. Which, in this place, counted as luxury and signified her older blood privileges. 

I slowed as I approached… because voices drifted out from inside. Low. Close.

Familiar.

My steps stopped without me telling them to. Because I recognized one of the voices.

Darian.

I froze. 

That didn’t make sense.

He had already left.

Hadn’t he?

I moved closer, slower now, just enough to see through the slight gap in the door.

And then I did… and everything in me stilled.

It was truly Darian and then Selene— she was sitting on his lap. 

Comfortably.

Like it wasn’t new.

Her fingers rested lightly against his shoulders, trailing just enough to suggest she knew exactly what she was doing. His hand was at her waist, not hesitant, not unsure— just there, firmly there. 

A stroke of pain crossed my chest. 

“You’re trouble,” he murmured now, his voice quieter than I had ever heard it.

Selene smiled.

Slow.

Knowing.

“And you came anyway.”

His thumb tilted her chin up, just slightly.

“Tell me what you want.” I heard him say to her now and suddenly, my defeat in the Arena and a broken nose didn’t feel like the worst thing that had happened to me today…