After a night in silence, returning once more to my bed of towels I am bathed softly by Martha. She looked at my green and purple wrists with confusion as I soak in the tub. “Cherish, is everything okay?” “It is,” plunging my arms into the murky water, “we had some fun that is all.” “Some fun,” she replied with a sarcastic click of the tongue, “is that what it is called now.” I squirmed in embarrassment, “yes, Ivan has made it clear this isn’t a…match or relationship.” “Ivan has?” Martha undeniably interested but I couldn’t say much more on the matter. Even if Ivan was blowing hot and cold like a monsoon he had asked me to keep the escape trunk idea to myself. There were too many sides of Ivan to understand. How could someone so sweet and softly mannered be able to turn away from someone so easily? When his resolve snapped and he lunged at my body, his hot, feverish kisses were like a man possessed yet he was able to turn himself back to stone? Maybe I am merely a plaything,
A serious, sombre Cherish returned from the bathhouse late yesterday evening and climbed straight into the trunk, fitting the lid over her head. “I fit, there should be no problems,”, avoiding any eye contact. /Good/ Kohl murmured even though I knew he was stung at her coldness. I have to remain strong and stop giving into the softer desires within. Cherish clearly knows it is more important to escape from here than to indulge in a romance with someone destined for a grisly death. I need to follow suit. “Thank you Cherish. I will let you know the rest of the plan soon.” She merely nodded and took herself off to the furthest corner of the room with a book. /It is for the best. She is being sensible, probably taking sound advice from her wolf./ Though Kohl is talking sense, the idea that she will be out of here and I will be…well exactly as I once was is a struggle to comprehend. The only thing making it bearable will be the fact that some of my honour, as a Beta Warrior will be res
I despise waiting. If this ordeal has taught me anything about myself it is that I truly hate waiting around and I really hate not being charge of my own life. The room just feels smaller, more enclosing with every passing minute. By the time I hear footsteps I am almost frantic with worry.The last time this kind of meeting was called Ivan was almost whipped to death. He knocked softly at the door as I pulled away the chair and unlocked it. His face was ghastly white, green eyes vacant as he almost stumbled back into the room. “Ivan, what’s happened?” Taking his arm I guided him to the huge mattress and made him sit down. Then I ran over to the fire and prepared a kettle of tea. He looked to be in shock. He sat looking down with his elbows on his knees, hunched in silence. I placed the hot drink by his side then softly sat next to him. “There is no escape now. I’m sorry but that plan is over,” he said flatly. “Do you want to talk about it?'' The chill in his voice made me cold,
"I was going to rip your throat out on tour but a few more days won't hurt," Denton growled as we had a rare sparring session together. Without Killian, and Denton maiming most of the rookies, Vincent had put us together. I wondered what happened to his prize. Killian had said she was too scared to leave his room…once he died, what was her fate? "You've only just healed from your whipping, how are you going to win anything?" I grunted back, dodging vicious swipes to my ribs. Denton’s beard, once something he maintained to a glossy sheen with pride had become ragged and messy. His huge body, covered in silvery-white scar trails like mine looked older, worn. The whipping had stripped strength from him, but he still had his burning anger and hatred. That could still beat any opponent. Including me. "I am going to win because then I am going to get permission to fuck your little wife over your corpse," he hissed. "Then I'm going to pass her around every man in the team, Kingsley can use
Ivan left me three hours ago for the showcase draw and he seems almost excited about it. I don’t understand anything about the past few days. He has stopped cuddling me to sleep in bed for one thing. He still promises to find me freedom but for the past few days he hasn’t wrapped his lovely warm arms around me and nuzzled into the base of my neck. I miss it. Halo constantly repeats Martha’s kind words every time I am stung by his new manner. /Ivan is preparing to lose you. He cares. He does./So why would he be so giddy about being picked in a death match? Especially seeing as all the signs point to Denton being his opponent. It’s what the crowd, the bookmakers and the Axelon gang want. The money spent on the two twelve-times winners would be unreal. Finally he knocks on the door, an annoyingly chirpy knock. Rat-a-tat-tat like he’s bringing me flowers and presents. I let him in cagily, peering through the crack in the door. "What happened, did you not get picked?” “I got Denton
After blowtorching my heart, Ivan put me down, his face flushed red with emotion as he slammed the bathroom door. I stood against the wall where he left me, the last traces of sparks swiftly dying away leaving me cold and lonely. It wasn’t meant to go this way. If he wants me to leave without giving him a second thought…well he is getting there now. All my frustration, anxiety and passion boiled over as I shouted at the bathroom door, “to hell with you then!” I took myself off to bed, hoping I would fall into a blissful sleep, maybe Halo take me somewhere more pleasant. Instead I tossed and turned relentlessly, Ivan did not even enter the bedroom. It was his turn to be the mouse within the towels. I would have tried to sneak a look had I not been furious with him. I could hardly imagine his huge frame sleeping in the miniscule bathroom. If his plan comes together we have maybe just over twenty-four hours together and he has declared I am a mere fling. I spent the night replay
Cherish has inevitably returned to her pile of towels on the floor. It is the night before the Showcase. I should be resting and yet I cannot help constantly peering over the side of the bed. Like scratching an itch I keep checking she is still there, even though she is rolled over facing away from me. It physically hurts seeing that blonde hair of hers spilling out over the floor. She should be in bed with me, safe and warm. /If you don’t make this right, you might never see or touch her again/ was the thought Kohl spun round and round. Unhelpful to say the least. If I did manage to bring this whole system to its knees, to even execute Vincent, Kingsley and the rest of his cronies for their crimes what would it be for if I never saw her again? Without thinking I thought out loud, my words cutting through the silence of the dark room “did you mean it, that you would have nowhere to go if you got out?” She immediately rolled over, she'd pretending been to be asleep. I couldn't hel
I must be a glutton for punishment asking to hear all about his mate, the woman who truly has his heart. It's not a topic he’s ever truly elaborated on but I know it’s why he is here. Right down to the way he is holding me, close and fast to his body, sitting on his lap feels like the most natural thing in the world. He wriggles backwards, so his back is against the wooden frame of the bed. With a tug he drags the blanket down from the bed, enclosing us both in a warm, snug little cocoon. “I can’t live in towels like you Mousey,” he smirked, kissing me on the top of my head. When he called me darling a few minutes ago my heart fluttered. Am I scared of admitting I have fallen irrevocably in love with someone I will never get a real chance to be with? Whichever one of us lives, the other's death is soon to follow. It hurts me to even think of Ivan fighting in the Cage again, his body has been through enough. “What do you want to know?” he whispered into the top of my head. “Why are