Page 80 of A Sea of Secrets
The second trial had started the same as this final one would end, with me in the ground. Except this time, everyone would believe I was dead. Amelia had understood what I asked of her and gifted me the most precious thing. Time.
It wasn’t much, but hopefully, it would be enough for those behind the cameras to deem me dead beneath the sand. Amelia had faked my death, but it was my job to do the rest. My body ached from the wounds inflicted by the cactus. I could feel my blood seep into the already red sand, yet I was still alive. I was still fighting. The battle had been the easy part. The waiting I had to endure now would truly test me.
Alone in the dark, I thought about Fallon. I pictured her face and those copper eyes staring back at me, her long dark hair flowing in some imaginary breeze. I wanted to reach out, thread my fingers through the strands, and run my thumb along her full lips. Gods, those lips and all the things I had thought of her doing with them. Kissing me, tasting me, sucking…
Shit. Now was not the time to go down that fantasy path. The sand around me felt even more oppressive, which was the opposite of what I wanted thoughts of Fallon to do. I’d hoped she’d take my mind off my predicament, but thinking of her was making everything feel worse. I took a few shuddering breaths in the makeshift cacti helmet and found the air warm and stale.
My future depended on the cameras no longer being there when I headed back above the ground.
It was hard to know exactly how much time had passed, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was about an hour after the fight. I had waited until the last possible moment when I couldn’t take being buried any longer. Then I clenched my jaw and began to dig my way out. My muscles ached against the movement, straining asI pushed my way up. Thankfully, Amelia’s magic had made the ground soft and the cacti roots she spawned had displaced the hard rocks and sand. I didn’t have to break through the ground, just fight against the weight of the sand.
It wasn’t an easy task. My arms and legs trembled as I pushed upwards, my hands and feet sinking in the process. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up digging myself deeper into the hole. But adrenaline coursed through me as panic tried to take control in that dark. I refused to let it take me. After a few minutes of digging though, doubt crept in and I began to second-guess whether Amelia had been an ally at all. Had she truly buried me? Was this how I died?
“No,” I told myself, digging upwards.
Sand caught underneath my fingernails and pain shot up my hands, but I pushed on. This was not the end of me. I kept fighting, kept digging upwards, unaware of the time or the progress I was making. I couldn’t stop. There were too many people relying on me, and I wasn’t ready to die just yet. It wasn’t my time.
Panting, I shoved myself up and broke the surface, welcoming the fresh air on my skin. Relief flooded through me like a torrent as I dragged myself the rest of the way out of the ground. My breath was hot before my face, my skin sweating as I crawled along the sand. Once my body was completely free, I sat up and was quick to tear the roots that encircled my face, allowing the welcome air to caress my cheeks and fill my lungs.
My heart pounded in my chest. Though my wounds stung and deeper injuries burned, I was free. In the moonlight, I checked myself over and saw the sand clinging to the blood on my skin. My once green jumpsuit had been torn and was now red from wounds and the dust of the Crimson Steppes arena. It didn’t matter, though. Neither my clothing nor my injuries were of any importance because luck was on my side. A grin spreadwide on my face, and I laughed as I checked my surroundings and found no camera, no lights, and not a single sign of anyone around.
I’d done it. I’d finished the trials and gotten out alive.
Now, to finish what I’d set out to do: Find the twins, stop future kidnappings, and protect the people of the Verdant Plateau.
No, not just my home. All of Terrulia.
Everyone deserved to live happily, healthily, and safely, and I was going to make that happen. I’d been given a chance to make things right and I wasn’t going to squander it. Terrulia needed to change. But first, I needed to find Fallon and the rest of my pod.
Ibaredmyteeth,cracking my knuckles, and rolled my shoulders. Rage simmered beneath my skin, desperate to break free. We’d been fucking caught. We’d been so close only to have it all snatched away. I hated losing and this time was no exception.
I’d wanted to get the weapon before Cormac could lay his dirty hands on it. A real ‘fuck you’ to my old leader and the man who’d lied and used me. The man had treated me like a fucking puppet for far too long. Not only was I without the weapon, but I had nothing to hold over the leader of the Drakes. Nothing to make him second-guess ever backstabbing me, his greatest asset.
Fuck him and fuck the Overseer.
The guard behind me jabbed his baton into my spine for the third time, shoving me forward. I growled, rounding on him,only to have the guy take a step back and flick on his weapon. Sparks danced on the end of it, bright in the night.
“Keep moving, scumbag.” He smirked, and I had to hold myself back from wiping that smile off his smug face.
Instead, I ran my gaze over him, the light of the drone above letting me get a good look at his features. Green eyes, a monobrow, a scar that ran along his jaw and a button nose that someone like Lou or Zane may have considered vomit-inducingly ‘cute’. He was about my height, with a medium build and light brown hair. I grinned at him in a way that made him shift uncomfortably. I was going to kill this mother fucker one day. Mark my words.
Unfortunately, today was not that day. Instead, I turned around and strode up the hill towards the mini Stormcrest City. Lightning flashed within the clouded dome as if warning of the coming fight. I flexed my fingers. Celeste had deemed us unworthy of the crown but had still demanded we battle in a tournament to the death. Ruthless, even for her.
Despite there being no crown in my future, that didn’t mean I was going to take this shit lying down. I didn’t give a fuck who entered the dome with me because I was going to be the only one coming out of that thing alive. I would fight every Potential she put in my way until I was facing down with the princess. Then and only then would I bend my fucking knee. Fallon was the only one worthy of the crown and I would kill anyone who got in her way. Celeste would have to give her the throne if all other Potentials were dead. She’d have no choice in the fucking matter.
I’m not sure when I’d turned into a simp for the princess, but it had happened and there was no going back.
A glass rectangle appeared on the dome, pushing back, then slid open as clouds drifted out and slipped into the night.
“Don’t die too quickly,” the guard said behind me before jabbing the baton into my back once again. This time electrical shocks shot through me, doubling me over and dropping me to a knee.
Before I could retaliate with my own, he kicked me in the back, shoving me forward across the threshold. The door slid closed behind me, preventing any satisfaction I might have taken. I glared at the man through the glass, the edges of the door invisible once more. There was no getting out until this battle was done.
“Son of a bitch!” I shouted into the stormy clouds. When I got my hands on him, I was going to make his death slow and painful. He would beg for me to end him, but I’d make sure not to give in to his pleas until I was good and fucking ready.
I rose to my feet, following the drone as it drifted along a pale brick path through the clouds, eventually leading to a palace. A mother fucking palace. While the other mini-cities were derivative versions of their actual locations, whoever had made the mini Stormcrest City must have deemed a palace on par with the ruins in the mini-DH. More proof of how this country was so fucked.
As I stepped through the front door, I came face-to-face with a grand hallway. Chandeliers hung from the ornate ceiling, casting light on the polished wooden floors. The walls were lined with paintings of landscapes in golden frames and marble busts sat between fancy vases on finely crafted wooden benches.
