Sang is chosen for the Culling, a series of fights to the death that are generally played by men. In fact, Sang is the first woman selected, well, ever. As the games start, and Sang forms bonds with a group of nine men, she comes to realize that the...
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Sang
I would never forget the look of shock in his eyes as Efrain stepped backwards, pulling the blade with him. At the same moment, it felt as though a veil had been lifted. The swirling clouds that consumed my thoughts faded away. Despite everything that was going on, I felt like I was alone in my mind again.
Even so, I couldn't look away from the knife and his betrayed expression. Why he'd give me such a look, I didn't know. I didn't owe him anything, and he certainly didn't own me - even though he seemed to think differently.
Had I killed a person? Or had there been more than one?
I didn't know what had happened. The haze was gone, but still the events of the last few hours were fuzzy. I remembered waking up once, and talking to Luke. I remembered being angry. Then there was something with Gabriel and North that should have embarrassed me, but I had no idea what it might be.
I only vaguely remembered walking to this place. I had been determined, and I had almost done something completely irreparable. Kota was involved.
All of this was so overwhelming and confusing. Events were warring for my attention in my mind, and it would take time to sort them out. So I could only watch Efrain with a kind of detached curiosity as he sank to his knees in front of me.
Then he was gone.
I was nearby suffocated as tight arms grabbed me around my chest and pulled me back. Panic raced through me. But the familiar hard chest and the comforting musk scent processed and my mind was set at ease almost at once.
North was shaking.
There were other sounds around us. Shouts, orders being given. The bang of a canon. But all those faded away as I listened to North's muttered cursing in my ear.
"Are you okay? I'm so sorry." He kept repeating the words over and over, not giving me a chance to respond. His hands touched me everywhere he could reach without letting me go. My hair, my face, my arms, my back...
