Page 63 of Trapped to Tame
She meandered back to her room, bored and wishing she had something to do. She was full of nervous energy, and she didn’t like feeling stuck in this grand house where she didn’t feel like she belonged.
An idea came to her. Drax had advised her not to fight in the rings close to her town, but surely it didn't matter now. They were in a massive city and there was more than one fighting ring.
She donned her cloak and tall boots that matched a new tunic of supple black leather the Brothers had brought her when they’d returned to Kitore and noticed that her clothes were becoming too tight for her. After that, things had begun appearing in her room frequently; trinkets like brushes and shining baubles, scented oils for bathing, and a myriad of clothes for her to choose from. Eve was starting to find that she enjoyed these things as well, developing a taste for some of the frills they gave her.
Slipping out the front door, she went towards the river, knowing that if she followed it, she'd get to the docks. There was always a fighting ring near the docks.
She walked slowly, enjoying the city after being inside for so long, her eyes taking in the patterned cobblestones of the streets and the stone buildings that lined them.
She heard the ring before she saw it, the sound of the fights a balm to her senses. She knew this. She understood this. Her skin began to prickle in anticipation, her blood pumping faster through her veins as her body readied itself for battle. She cracked her knuckles and stretched her neck as she walked, warming up her body to move.
It was only midafternoon, so when she found the rings there weren't many people there. She was glad as she stood at the edge, nervousness making her stomach roll. She’d only fought in one ring before, after all. What if it was different here?
The fight in front of her ended with one man begging for mercy and receiving it much to the disappointment of the men watching who wanted to see some blood. She stepped in to take the place of the loser who was dragged out unceremoniously and left by the edge.
The small crowd jeered, which she’d expected for there were no other women fighting that day and, of course, she was so small that no one ever thought she was a threat. The fight began immediately and her opponent, while not a large man, had the movements of a seasoned fighter. He had a short, graying beard and scars intermingled with small tattoos that gave his skin a mottled look. He watched her closely, looking for her weaknesses. He knew his way around a ring that was for sure, and he was not underestimating her, which she was glad of. It made for a better fight.
He came at her, testing her, and she drove him back. She could tell he was surprised, though it barely registered on his face, but he was more careful after that. They danced around each other, well matched in movement at least. He blocked her strikes, and she blocked his. Then he got a lucky punch into her face, splitting her lip. She grinned and he looked uncertain, but this was what she loved, what she needed.
She lunged forward to retaliate, but, at that very moment, a sharp pain radiated out from her chest like hot coals being poured into her. She cried out, falling to her knees, and doubling over, clutching her heart.
Her opponent didn’t hesitate, kicking her hard in the stomach. She fell to her side in the dirt, unable to get up, the pain still debilitating her.
She looked up at him through the tears of agony she couldn’t help. He was going to kill her.
She tried to get up and failed as her muscles cramped. It felt as if something was being ripped from her. What was happening to her? She'd never felt such torture in her life.
Her opponent leaned over her and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her. She pleaded with her eyes, her hand grasping over his as she struggled to breathe. She saw mercy in his countenance and sagged in relief as he dropped her to the ground and said something about the victory not being true because she was clearly in the midst of some malaise.
The crowd, again denied the violence they craved, booed and hissed as she was dragged from the ring and left at the edge. Perhaps they’d call for a healer, but like as not they’d simply leave her there to live or die as the gods willed.
As she lay on the ground and her vision swam, she noticed a face in the crowd that she recognized, and her stomach dropped. It couldn’t be. She fought to stay awake, but the pain was too much and, unbidden, her eyes closed.
* * *
Priest
Priest doubled over in pain,steeling himself, forcing himself to stand upright, to finish the ritual. He would break this bond if it was the last thing he fucking did and, once they were free of its influence, his Brothers would thank him. He might even get his command back once they realized what he’d done; when their minds were not clouded by a bond that meant nothing.
He snuffed the candle, letting the strings that represented their bonds burn down to nothing in a silver dish and, only then did the pain in his chest finally subside. He stared at the ashes. Had the pain been so severe for them all?
The door to his room burst open and both Drax and Fie stood on the other side, their expressions thunderous.
‘What have you done?’ Drax shouted, still clutching his chest.
‘What had to be done. We have no more use for the female. Cut her loose or slit her throat. You both decide. I don't give a fuck, but she is not our Fourth. This was a business transaction and nothing more. You two fools forgot that. Hopefully, you will soon remember now that your judgement isn’t impaired.’
‘It was not your decision to make,’ Fie hissed and Priest was taken aback.
He hadn’t thought Fie would care once the emotions the bond made him feel were gone.
‘Where is she?’ Drax said looking around.
Priest shrugged. ‘In the house somewhere abouts as usual.’
‘Come on,’ Drax ordered, staggering from the room. ‘We have to find her, ensure she's safe.’
Priest rolled his eyes. ‘She's no fainting wench. She's as strong as you and I. She'll be sitting in her room, lying asleep in her bed, or, more likely, eating through our stores in the kitchen.’
