The Lycan King's Defiant Surrogate

"Come," the Pitmaster says. "I'll show you where you can rest for the night."

She turns and starts walking away from me. I hurry to follow he eager for sleep. Fear and adrenaline have kept me going since before my escape attempt. While I still feel those things, my body physically cannot handle much more.

The Pitmaster leads me to our of the crude bed chambers. Inside, a cat is pressed up against one wall. There's also a small table with a wash basin on top. The basin is currently empty.

"There's a water pump in the canteen, the Pitmaster says. "I'll show you more tomorrow. For now, sleep while you can. In the morning, I expect you to be ready to train."

Stepping into the room. I glance back at her. "I'm going to train I thought she might just sent me out into the arena to be slaughtered, like other matches I've seen.

"I don't want you to embarrass me by dying too soon, the Pitmaster says "At the very least, I will show you how to hold a sword. Hopefully you can do so without falling on it. She huff's laugh as she walks away.

The makeshift walls of the bedroom do not allow for much privacy, but I'm too tired to need it right now. Walking to the cot, I fall down onto it.

Closing my eyes, I drift off to sleep to the sound of clashing swords and shouting.

I don't dream. It's a blessing

The next morning, the Pitmaster hands me a sword, shows me how to hold it, and sets me up against one of the training dummies. Kidd and Gold are also there, sparring against each other. A few other slaves stand around, looking nervous. One of them drops her sword.

The Pitmaster sighs, saying under her breath, "That one won't last two minutes Then she goes to help the poor, shaking woman. "Pick that up. Try again. Put effort in this time. Your life depends on it."

For a little while, I try slashing at the training dummy, cutting this way and that. My motions are awkward and uncomfortable. I've never been trained to fight, especially not like this.

I practice until around midday, when the Pitmaster comes to collect me to take me and the other slaves to the canteen.

The canteen is just a series of long tables. Food has been placed down the center of them. People grab in a rush, making their own personal piles, before they sit and stuff their faces. There are no plates and no silverware. There aren't even napkins.

In the corner. I can see an old-fashioned water pump with a cracked handle. Someone is there now, attempting to pump water into their basin. They have a towel wrapped around the handle, presumably to protect their hands.

I follow the herd to collect my food and find a spot at one of the tables. The Pitmaster lingers behind, speaking with an official looking guard that has just entered. They are wearing the black uniform and body armor of the other guards, but this one has golden trim around the collar.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

The Pitmaster's face is dire, but then, she always looks that way

Their conversation only lasts a few brief minutes. Then the Pitmaster walks over to my table.

"I've heard from the master of schedules for the arena," she says, "For your first match, you will enter the arena against a group of wild animals. This group will include a lion

My stomach shrivels up. Suddenly, I'm not so hungry anymore.

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Do they really need a group of animals to face me? A single lion would be enough!

Caleb must well and truly want to see me ripped apart. What hope to I really have against wild beasts?

"It will be a hard fight," the Pitmaster continues. "But you may get lucky." She doesn't sound at all convinced, and I can't

blame her

Even if I had a wolf, a fight against a lion would be near impossible. Without one, I am a lamb to the slaughter.

"Eat," the Pitmaster says. "You'll need your strength. Then she walks away.

I try to eat, forcing down bites of food, but it sits uncomfortably in my belly. Soon, I can't force anymore, or I risk losing everything I've managed to eat so far.

How do you even begin to fight wild animals? I don't even know where to begin. Maybe, when I'm back in my training, the Pitmaster will show me some tips

After all, she doesn't want to be embarrassed by my dying too soon..

This fear at least distracts from the heartache of Samuel's rejection. I'm so busy worrying how to survive, that I don't have much time for thoughts on how my life has fallen apart in other ways.

First I need to live. Then I can tend to the pieces of my shattered heart.

All of this feels impossible now.

Suddenly, Kidd sits down in the empty spot beside me. He flashes me his toothy grin as his eyes skip down my body. I angle myself away from him, or try to, but he places his hand on my shoulder, and roughly turns be back. "Don't hide like that from me," Kidd says in a sing-song voice that sends pin-prick shivers up my spine. "We don't get many like you down here."

"There are plenty of women," I say.

"Not women."

"There are other slaves."

"Not slaves."

Slowly, he drags his hand farther up my shoulder to the base of my neck. There, he rubs his thumb up along the side of my throat, pressing into my bruises there. I wince.

"Who was the one who gave you these?" Kidd asks "Some poor guard? Did he use you like a toy?" Kidd doesn't wait for an answer, not that I would have answered him anyway. "You liked it didn't you."

I try once more to shrug him off, but he just lifts his hand, pressing his full palm to the side of my neck now. His thumb cuts into the front, his fingers curl around the back.

"I bet you moaned like a whore," Kidd grins. "I can't wait to hear it for myself"

"You dare place your hand where the King's has been, Tristan's voice rings out, echoing loudly throughout the canteen. The entire room freezes, even Kidd

Maybe especially Kidd.

He pales, looking back as Tristan approaches us. I look too.

Tristan walks with an air of authority. His clean clothes have no business in this dirty place.

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But I am eternally grateful for his presence.

"The King... he's the one?" Kidd stumbles over his words. "These are his marks..?"

"Remove your hand, Tristan says. "Or I will have the Pitmaster cut it off."

The Pitmaster appears at Tristan's side and unsheathes her blade

Kidd immediately removes his hand from me. He stands, placing more space between us.

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"I did not realize the King had laid claim." Kidd says. "Or that he still valued her.."

"You are owed no explanation," Tristan says.

Kidd lowers his head in shame. His cheeks redden slightly as he glares back at me. He doesn't say anything, just looks as if he wants to murder me for a moment before storming away. Tristan watches him go with a bored expression, before turning that same face to me.

"The King demands your presence," he says. "Now,"

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