Shadow Thief

Chapter 11

Get up," Elra commanded, her voice cold as I lay sprawled across the cold, unforgiving metal floor.

I groaned, ignoring her completely.

"I said, get up." Her threat was clear—if I didn't, she'd make me.

Still, I stayed on the ground, savouring the chill seeping into my skin. Andre and I had been dragged from our beds before sunrise and dumped into Balten's Ring—the Forge, as they called it. Dramatic warrior pricks.

I'd tried prying information out of them—about Ayanna, about who had attacked her, about why we should even bother helping them, and when the hell they'd start looking for a way to get us home. Andre had grabbed my shoulder, whispering that we needed them on our side, and if that meant playing along, then that's what we'd do.

So here I was, a fucking mess on the floor, drenched in sweat, exhausted, and unable to move. The metallic tang of blood mingled with the sweat on my lips, and bruises bloomed across my skin—some fresh and throbbing, others still forming. One particularly nasty one—a right hook to the cheek, courtesy of Elra—was swelling up like a balloon, making it painful to even open my damn mouth.

Wren had taken Andre off somewhere after we stubbornly stuck together, refusing to be separated. Apparently, if we couldn't see each other, we'd be less "distracted." These morons hadn't figured me out yet.

Elra's pointy shoes dug into my ribs, knocking the wind out of me. "Oof!" I hunched over, protecting my middle—another favourite target of hers. I wasn't some punching bag.

"Get up now, Alicia," she snarled.

My head snapped up. "I didn't tell you my full name."

"Do you think Blinx didn't tell us?" she sneered.

"I never told her." I dragged myself to my feet, suspicion gnawing at me. The only ones who knew were the assholes who'd attacked Ayanna.

"She didn't need you to," she smirked, stepping closer. "You finally got up."

Before I could fire back, she lunged—a blur of twirls and spins as her fists slammed into my stomach. My instincts kicked in too late. I managed to block the kick aimed at my head and caught her leg, unbalancing her.

But it didn't matter. She used her wings to propel herself up, arcing over me and landing gracefully at my back, sweeping my legs out from under me. Pain tore through my body, and exhaustion weighed me down.

Again, I was on the floor—we'd been at this for hours. I needed a break. I needed answers. I needed to get the hell out of here. Frustration churned inside me—why wouldn't anyone listen? Why wouldn't they just tell me what they knew? I didn't need this bullshit.

Staggering back to my feet, I stumbled forward unsteadily as anger built inside me, something that twisted in my gut and tightened in my chest. The cold metal beneath me seemed to pulse, as if echoing a silent rhythm, urging me to stand, to fight, to lash out.

I saw black as I threw myself at her, my vision narrowing as a fierce, uncontrollable rage took over. My thoughts were a chaotic blur, swallowed by the darkness that filled my mind. I landed punch after punch.

She was caught off guard, surprise etched into her pink eyes. I seized the moment, and she could barely dodge the onslaught. Gone was the pain. Gone was the exhaustion. I was standing taller, stronger, and my movements were quicker, sharper.

She'd been knocking me on my ass for hours, laughing and enjoying every second of it. I'd risked my life to save someone she should've protected, and this was how I got repaid?

Why the hell were they so desperate for our help?

More questions barrelled into my brain with the same force as my elbow smashing into the side of Elra's masked face.