Stupid Cupid

Chapter Nine

The next morning was brutal. I woke up and immediately felt my face throb painfully. I slowly stumbled out of bed and went to look at the damage done in the bathroom mirror. 

Shoot. I was ugly. My jaw had swollen and felt tight to the touch. It was splotchy with redness and at the center of where Marcus had punched was a rather unpleasant shade of purple. There was a painful cut on my lip that cracked straight down. Underneath my eyes were big, purple bags. Overall, my face was sporting a rainbow of colors, the most prominent being purple. 

I groaned and cursed my supernatural ability to bruise at even the slightest pinch. After brushing my teeth, tying my hair into a ponytail, and applying a little mascara, I walked over to my closet and pulled my shirt over my head. I sucked in a breath at the pain that shot through my ribs. I quizzically looked down at the-- you guessed it-- purple bruise. I can't believe I forgot about the 5 foot tall wolf crashing on top of me. 

I carefully tugged on a cropped t-shirt and some leggings, and then made my way downstairs to the kitchen where Damien was cheerfully munching on Eggo waffles. 

"Morning," I slid on the chair opposite of his and plopped one of the strawberries covering his waffles into my mouth. 

Damien scowled, "Hey! Don't steal my berries..." his voice tapered off when he saw me. "What happened to your face?"

"I knew you were losing your memory but I didn't know it was this bad, old man. I fought a Vargr yesterday, remember?"

Damien didn't acknowledge my teasing, "No. I saw you after that. Your face wasn't so bruised. What happened?"

I sighed, "I got in a little scadoofle with Marcus."

"Not this boy again. What did he do this time?"

"He followed us into the infirmary to threaten us not to get in his way of winning."

"And then he just punched you? Unprovoked?" Damien raised a disbelieving brow.

I rolled my eyes, "You really think I was just going to stand there and let him threaten and insult me and my friends?"

A small smile slowly spread on Damien's face, "Friends?"

I scowled at him and he laughed. Even my uncle knew I wasn't exactly Miss. Popular. 

"I'm only teasing, Raya. I'm happy for you. Hadley's a good person. And I guess the Cupid isn't as bad as the rest of his kind."

I raised my eyebrows, "That's quite the compliment. If only he were here to hear you say it."

"Don't you have any other poor victim to terrorize?"

"No, but I do have training in five minutes." I snatched his remaining waffle and bent it in a taco shape, then I stuffed some more strawberries in it. "Gotta go. Love you, bye!" I quickly left before he could protest. 

When I arrived at the training room, I stopped suddenly and looked around in awe. It was three times the size of the ordinary practice rooms I would train in with Damien. There was a big black mat in the center and then four other smaller mats covering each corner. At the right side of the room was the weaponry. I'd never seen so many different kinds of weapons in my life. There were knives of all shapes and sizes hanging from the wall, along with spears and swords and other sharp metals I couldn't name.  At the left side of the room was the archery station. Stacks of hay with targets painted on them leaned against the wall. There were sleek bows and arrows and crossbows hanging on a cabinet nearby. 

"Impressive, isn't it?" Noah and Hadley walked over to me.

I nodded. I couldn't take my eyes off of it all.