HIS PRINCESS | K.TH

Burning

One hour earlier

V

The harsh sound of the fighting bell echoes over the crowd as I hold up a single finger.

One more.

"Final fight!" The mediator yells in excitement, pounding his fists into the small table in front of him. His voice isn't pleasant, but it's certainly loud. People turn their heads to look almost immediately.

"Come try your luck against Shadowdancer!"

I wipe the blood covering my vision. None of the scarlet spattering my face and fists is mine. I watch as men take away the last challenger I'd beaten down to the ground, dragging his unconscious body off the ring like a sack of potatoes.

Then I see a hand shoot up, amongst the crowd of dark, hooded heads.

The mediator screams into his mic.

"Come on up!"

A roar floods the crowd. And I stand back, my heart still racing from the adrenaline of the fight before as I watch the final challenger.

He looks young. Too young to be out here, especially in a place like the Ring of the Underground. He's fidgeting side to side, large eyes flickering anywhere except for my face.

Scared.

Just from that look and the thick jacket he has on, I can already tell.

He's got a knife. And someone has forced him to face me.

For money.

Dirt cakes his hands, and he looks weak. His cheeks are too hollow from hunger, for the age he must be. But the glower in his eyes is for someone else.

Perhaps his younger sibling, who might be starving on the streets. Or a sick mother with no money for a hospital visit. It could be anyone.

A smile tints my lips as I stare at him.

Brave one.

The mediator hoots behind me, his voice echoing excitedly into the mic.

"A young boy! Let's see how Shadowdancer will rip him apart like fresh meat tonight, shall we?"

A roar thunders the crowd as the boy leaps, surprisingly agile for how malnourished he must be. Out comes the knife, and I easily step to the side. His knife cuts against the metal fence where I'd been standing against.

Even before the man had counted to three, for the fight to start.

I whisper lowly.

"Hungry for me, aren't you?"

The boy whips around, and his wide eyes fix a wild stare in my direction underneath long, messy dark hair. His gaze is full of hatred.

"Shut up." He yells, and I can see the bloodlust rising in his eyes.

"Shut up!"

He lunges again. And I sigh, sweeping a foot under him. I drive my fist into his stomach, pulling back on the force just before it hits. The boy doubles over instinctively, his eyes widening when he realizes I hadn't hit him at all.

But it certainly looks like I had on the outside.

The crowd screams. They're screaming for blood, and it was either going to be me or him. It had to be one of us, to shed it tonight.