Page 163 of Silver Elite

Panting, I get her beneath me, pinning her wrist under my knee, rendering her knife completely useless. Her gaze flits toward the mirror.

“Tap out,” I beg her.

She keeps fighting. There’s too much fight in her. She’s better than she was when we sparred. I know her father’s presence is fueling her actions.

I blink, and suddenly she gains the upper hand. She’s on top of me, smashing her knuckles into my face. My cheekbone ripples with pain. She grabs my wrist and slams it against the floor, once, twice, hard enough that my fingers instinctively unclasp the handle. My knife goes clattering across the room.

Bryce releases a triumphant noise, but I manage to kick out from under her and roll away, crawling toward the knife. I’ve just reached it when the hot burn of pain hisses through my upper arm. She sliced me. Goddamn quat. A spray of blood blossoms from the gash in my arm. And then she’s on me again, straddling my hips.

“Tap out,” she growls. Feral.

“No,” I grind out.

Her spittle wets my face. “I’m either leaving this room as Elite or dead, Wren.”

I hear the truth in those words. That she would rather die than bring shame to her father. She would actuallyrather die.

But I’m equally determined. Ineedthis. I need it for Uncle Jim.Need it if I want my revenge against the people who killed him. If I’m going to bring this entire organization down from the inside.

Do you really want to die in this room?

My mother was willing to die for the Modified. Maybe I am, too. Maybe I need to take my own stand.

With a surge of adrenaline, I flip us over, tightening my grip on the knife. I need her to tap out. Somehow I have tomakeher. As Bryce slashes at me, I sink my blade into her thigh, summoning a strangled cry from her throat.

“Tap out,” I plead.

“No.”

She tries to thrust her knife at my throat, but I deflect. I pull my blade out of her thigh and implore her with my eyes. There’s blood everywhere. All over the floor.

“Please, Bryce, just tap out.”

Her breath escapes in shallow gasps. I suddenly notice she doesn’t look too good. Her face is devoid of color, whiter than the walls.

That’s when I realize how deep I cut her. The blood pours out of her wound like a steady stream from a faucet. She continues swinging at me, but half-hearted now. I see her energy draining, her eyelids fluttering.

“Bryce.” I slap her cheek. “Bryce.”

Her eyes close altogether. The pool of blood beneath us grows larger, spreading all around us.

Horror claws at my throat. I hit her femoral artery.

I’ve never seen anyone bleed out that fast.

I suck in desperate breaths, my lungs straining for oxygen. As my heart thunders against my ribs, I crawl away from Bryce, leaving her dead in the middle of the room.

Chapter 37

I stumble into the hallway, covered in blood.

Dazed.

Kaine is waiting outside another door, shocked at the sight of me. “Wren. What happened? Are you okay?”

“I killed Bryce.”

My chest heaves on a ragged breath, the reality of what just transpired crashing down on me like a tidal wave.

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