Chapter 5 ~ I Challenge You.

{Ragna’s POV}

For a moment, I thought about stepping inside.

Not to shout. Not to cry. Not even to ask questions.

Just… to stand there and let them see me. Let him see what he’d chosen… and let her see what she’d taken.

She had mentioned earlier that she had seen me with my lowbond; Darian, outside the Arena and I had missed the warning label in that. Clueless and dumb me hadn’t known that that was the time this cruel attempt had been born. 

My chest tightened now at the thought, my fingers curling slowly into my palms as something sharp pressed up against my ribs— anger, pain, or something uglier that didn’t have a clean name.

Inside, Selene laughed, soft and comfortable like nothing at all was wrong with her actions. 

With that, my breath grew heavy, and for one reckless second, I almost moved.

Almost.

Then I exhaled slowly and stepped back… because there were ways to handle things like this. And I wasn’t about to be the girl who fought over a man.

Not even one I cherished.

Not even now.

And so I turned and walked away and didn’t look back.

Halfway down the corridor, my vision blurred just enough to be inconvenient, but I lifted the back of my hand to my eye, wiping quickly before anything could fall.

No.

Not here.

Not for him.

**

The walk back felt longer than it should have.

My ribs ached. My shoulder burned and my bloodied nose throbbed in quiet protest with every step I took, but none of it compared to the dull, steady pressure sitting in my chest.

That one stayed.

Persistent and unimpressed with distraction.

By the time I reached my kennel, I was exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with the fight.

A shallow bowl sat near the bars.

Dinner… if that was what we were calling it.

I crouched slightly, eyeing the contents. It looked like someone had boiled disappointment, skimmed hope off the top, and served what remained with milky water.

I dipped two fingers in it, tasted.

Paused.

“…right,” I muttered.

Apparently survival here came with strong tolerance and whatever this was.

I ate it anyway because hunger, unlike pride, didn’t negotiate. After that, sleep came eventually but not gently. 

It just took me.

**

Morning came and it didn’t fix anything.

It just made it easier to stand.

My body still ached, my ribs especially reminding me of yesterday’s poor decisions, but the sharpest edges had dulled into something manageable.

Less pain. More memory; which, in its own way, was worse.

The Bone Yard was already alive when we arrived for the apparent morning training.

Sand stretched wide beneath our feet, and Iron Wardens stood at intervals around the space, arms crossed, expressions carved from experience and disinterest.

It wasn’t chaos this time around. This was structure.

Some fighters were moving in controlled pairs now, sparring under watchful eyes instead of tearing into each other unchecked. Blows landed and bodies hit the ground while instructions were barked.

Order.

Brutal.

Efficient.

“Today’s Arena matches,” one of the Wardens called, her voice cutting cleanly through the noise, “are not for fresh bloods.”

She looked tougher; leader-like, and murmurs rippled faintly at her words now.

“Older bloods only.”

A pause.

Then… “For which if your opponent yields, you stop. If they don’t…”

She made a head gesture and and the implication settled easily.

Kill.

Or be killed.

“And if they later surrender,” another Warden added with a dry sort of contempt, “they live.”

A beat.

“They just won’t be worth much after.”

Shame… worse than death, in a place like this.

As more instructions kept coming, I scanned the Yard without thinking. And then I saw her.

Selene.

She stood near the far edge, leaning slightly toward another fighter while whispering, her posture relaxed, her expression easy— like yesterday had been nothing more than a passing inconvenience.

She smiled now at something the girl said. Actually smiled; genuine and kind.

My fists clenched without my conscious intention and with that, something hot began to build in my chest.

“I challenge.”

The word cut through the Yard and through my thoughts, bringing me back to reality now. 

I saw one of the Older bloods step forward, pointing across the space.

“You.”

Her target stepped out immediately, cracking her neck once, eyes already sharpening.

“I was hoping you would.”

“Finally, you’ve grown a liver!”

A ripple of anticipation spread along with wild grunts and then another voice followed.

Another challenge.

“I want to end you.”

Then another.

“You owe me blood, Becca!”

The energy shifted quickly— conversation dissolving into something heavier and raw. More grunts and aggression poured out now. 

This wasn’t a training yard anymore.

This was death breeder ground, one where the Older blood reveled in and viscously signed the death warrant of one another. 

It was chaotic and brutish in every way and in the peak of it, I stepped forward…

It took a second for anyone to notice.

And another for them to understand.

And so silence poured in as many heads turned and brows furrowed. There was hostility and disapproval at once but I wasn’t fazed by that.

“I want to challenge someone.” I announced…

…

There was nothing for a moment. 

Then a short laugh from somewhere to my left sounded before more joined. 

It soon became a sea of laughter and with that, the Iron Warden closest to me glanced at me, unimpressed.

“Step aside, fingerling. Older bloods own the sand today,” she said flatly and I ignored the fact that she had now officially made fingerling my nickname.

“I said,” I repeated, “I want to challenge someone.” I spoke even louder

That got attention.

The Head Warden turned to me this time, her gaze settling on me with something colder than irritation.

“Did you lose your hearing?” She said slowly, her voice deep, “Today is not for weaklings trying to impress themselves. So return to your cradle.” 

Another wild wave of snickers followed.. but I ignored them.

“I mean no disrespect,” I said, holding her gaze, “but I can’t step aside because someone here crossed a line last night.”

A ripple of confusion and curiosity rose now, chatters spreading 

Now they were listening.

“She didn’t know how to keep her hands to herself,” I continued, my voice steady.

“So she took something that belonged to me.”

A pause.

“Well,” I added lightly, “not anymore. He downgraded himself yesterday already.”

That earned a few laughs.

Good.

Let them laugh. 

I clenched my fists. 

Let them enjoy it. I need them to. 

I raised my hand and pointed now. 

“Her.”

A moment passed and then every head turned.

Meanwhile, Selene straightened slowly and then stepped forward smirking.

Of course she did.

I faced her. “You’ve probably figured out that I saw you two, so what do you have to say?” I asked her directly and she stared with amusement, studying me like this was interesting and not serious.

“Your lowbond?” she said, her voice smooth. “He wasn’t satisfied.”

A few murmurs.

She smirked. “So I helped.”

There it was.

I felt anger build up so suddenly at that but then I curbed it. For now. 

“That was kind of you.” I said softly. 

Her smile widened.

“Of course. Someone had to help you fix things.”

“Right. Then I’ll return the favor by fixing you,” I said, my voice sharpening just enough. “I challenge you.”

The Yard reacted.

Louder now.

Amusement. Disbelief. Interest— a fresh Blood challenging an Older blood.

Selene’s gaze flicked over me once now, assessing.

“Be mindful of your words. “I won’t hold back for you.” She said gently. 

Then, quieter, “Fingerling.” She added with a smirk and the word landed…

… and burned.

“My choice is made,” I said. “Unless you are the fingerling and are scared of a little beating.”

That broke the tension as laughter came, real this time.

Selene’s eyes flashed for a moment. Then she smiled.

“Fine,” she said. “I accept.”

Good. 

I let my anger build then.