Genevieve’s reality terrified me to my very bones. So much so that I paced Ivan’s room restlessly once Martha escorted me back to the room. Eventually my own desperation to make things right got the better of me and I took a few steps outside the corridor. The slightest noise had made me as skittish as a mouse but after ten minutes of aimless wandering I heard raised voices. When I realised one of them was Ivan my body set off running before my brain could even process it. I cannot explain it, it was as though another force was in charge of propelling me forward. Though I didn’t disagree with the action, it was bolder and more confident than I would ever dare. When I rounded the corner and saw his face, that fire of russet red hair and blazing green eyes I only sped up. I expected when I leapt at him to be overwhelmed with the same tingling sensation as before. A flash of disappointment hit me as there was only the boring, unexciting sensation of material. Had I imagined the sensa

I don’t know what the hell my mind is doing to me but it’s driving me crazy. Taking Ivan’s pillow was such a random act. As I gathered all the towels as usual and made my comfy little nest once more I spied it hanging over the side of the bed. The scent of sweet apples was so strong I couldn’t help just taking it. Telling myself, ‘it’s just a pillow, he has four, he won’t miss it’ seemed so sensible. Waking up in a fright with it clamped between my legs, covered in my wetness…I cannot possibly give it back to him now. Yet I want it nowhere near me. Not when it sends my brain haywire. My dreams are still of the country air, ascending heights to see panoramic views of forests and lakes. It is breathtaking. But last night, as I felt myself effortlessly climbing through the tall pine trees, as you do in dreams where everything is easy and light, someone was waiting for me. Stood at the top of the hill, facing away with a black hooded cloak over their head. The cloak hung down to their c

I could have cried, being out in the fresh air was amazing after so many weeks of corridors and the tiny window in his room. I didn’t want to let go of his hand though, just because he had finished guiding me didn’t mean I wanted him to break his hold. Instead I squeezed it tighter, whispering “thank you, I really needed this.” He led me towards the oval four-hundred metre race track and we started slowly walking around. There was even the odd bird chirping, I almost felt free if I squinted and looked past all the barbed wire and buildings surrounding us.. “What happened today?” Ivan asked carefully, keeping his face forward. I told him all about Genevieve and Martha, how I had helped carry her to the recovery ward. I stared up at him while I spoke, watching his jaw clench and work as I described the pitiful state she had been left in. “Do you think she will live?” “Yes, but only because Martha has promised to take her to watch his fight so that she might cheer his death.” “Hmm

Ivan left me a few hours ago. I thought the clarification my fiancee was an arranged match Ivan might, I don’t know, maybe show some interest in me? If he is not interested then why do I catch his eyes on me so often and think of kind things for me, ordering books, clothes and giving me a glimpse of the outside world? What are all these sparks and swirling sensations if not desire? I know I am attracted to him, I hopelessly gaze at his body whenever he walks past. All the extra training he has done, constantly eating steaks and huge servings of food too means his chest, abs and shoulders are all bigger and even firmer than when I first met him. Even his red hair, it makes every other man boring in comparison. The coppery tones and fiery colours compliment his glinting eyes rendering him constantly captivating. Perhaps he is just getting into the zone and I am delusional. I did make him talk an awful lot about his past today. His mate. He already had his true love, a fact that sho

I’ve been keeping my head down this whole week. Not ignoring Ivan, just not distracting him either. Martha keeps finding little jobs for me in the bathhouse so my visits there are filling almost the whole day now. It’s better than being lonely in the room, and better than fighting my own body’s desires to jump onto Ivan’s bare torso every time he walks out of the bathroom. Instead of pouncing on him I’m ordering him steaks, large filling meals full of protein, organising his training gear, even cleaning it like it’s going to make a difference when he enters that terracotta pit. Tonight is the Showcase. My guts are inside out with fear, how has Ivan done this eleven times? I’ve promised myself, just wait a little longer. When he makes it through this fight and kills Xavier I am going to tell him I have feelings for him. I’ve got to know if these feelings are purely in my head. The scent of fresh apples teases me all day in that room, teases me to the point where I find myself searc