Page 11 of The Warlord's Wildflower
The next challenger steps forward. A taller, leaner Bull, more agile, less brute force. But I’ve already got the rhythm of the fight in me. This one won’t last long either.
I flex my hands, getting ready, then with a burst of energy, I charge, and the world narrows to just me, my opponent, and the beating of my heart. I take him down with a calculated blow, bringing him to the ground with a force that has the crowd on their feet.
I raise my fist again in triumph.
Chapter Five
Annie
Everyone is roaring around me, stomping and shouting, but it all sounds muffled, like I'm underwater. My hands twist nervously in my lap. I swear he keeps looking my way, but that is probably wishful thinking. He's probably forgotten all about asking for my favor. He probably asked every girl, or maybe he was just being polite.
I sit beside Maeve, trying to calm the flurry of butterflies in my stomach. She has noticed, of course, Maeve always notices everything, but she hasn't pressed me. She only gives me a soft smile and pats my hand, making me want to cry even more.
I try to keep my composure. I can still hear the girl’s words echoing in my ears. “Going to a ball?”she had said, with that sweet-mean smile. My cheeks flush again just thinking of it.
“Are you enjoying the tournament?”
I turn slightly and blink at the visiting Commander. He smiles at me, but even smiling, he looks serious.
I nod, heart jumping. “Y-yes.”
“You look lovely.” He compliments me, and I shrink a little in my seat, casting my gaze down. I don’t know what to say to that. My throat feels small and tight.
“Thank you, sir.” I manage.
“I heard the healer here has been giving you girls herbs to stop your… production,” he says casually, leaning just a little closer. “Seems a shame. It’s a gift, isn’t it?”
Maeve stiffens beside me, and I can feel her glare without even looking.
“Commander Garron,” she says sweetly, “Perhaps save your charm for the feast tonight. The next challenge is starting.”
He only chuckles and leans back in his chair.
I return my gaze to the field as Fenric circles his opponent. My breath stutters painfully in my chest. He's in the middle of the ring, his horns catching the sun, shirtless, golden, grinning, wild and radiant.
He’s strong and fast, faster than anyone else. He makes it look easy, almost like dancing. My heart is soaring and aching at the same time. He is…he is amazing.
I feel the Commander’s eyes on me still, and that makes my skin crawl just a little. I don’t like the way he looks at me. I shrink further into my seat and stare out at the ring, willing myself to stay calm.
The crowd is louder now, chanting, stomping, hooves pounding on packed dirt. Drums beat in time with the shouts, and the sun bores down hot and heavy on everything. I tried to keep my eyes focused only on Fenric, but it was getting harder.
Blood sprays across the sands, and the sound of bone cracking echoes sharply nearby. I flinch.
Fenric knocks down another warrior, one twice his size, and the crowd roars again, bloodthirsty. Fenric raises one arm, grinning with that confident, easy charm, his chest heaving. He is magnificent; however, my stomach twists painfully at the sight of the blood on his hands. A smear of it on his jaw. The other warrior wasn’t getting up.
“Oh,” I whispered, feeling nauseous, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin despite the heat.
“That one’s fierce,” Commander Garron says casually from beside me. “He’s clever and quick, but still rough around the edges.” He smiles at me again, and I turn away from him, shoulders curling in, heart hammering.
Please stop looking at me. Please.
He keeps speaking, too close. “You’re trembling, little one. Are you frightened?”
Maeve’s hand touches mine. “Annie,” she says softly, her voice gentle and concerned, “Do you want to step out for a moment? We can get some water.”
I try to nod, but it feels like everything is vibrating. The world is too loud, and my chest is too tight. My fingers are going numb.
I can’t breathe.
