Chapter 11

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Once I have washed up and put on the comfortable pair of pajama pants and shirt given to me, I walk out and make my way to the opposite side of the bed where Lucian sits.

He leans against the headboard with a large pillow tucked behind his head. His has a book in his hands but his eyes follow my every movement. I can't tell if he is wary of my presence or just unused to someone else being here with him.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, not wanting to distract him and draw more attention to myself. The ache in my ribs have returned in full force and I am thankful for the painkillers placed next to my night clothes that I took without hesitation.

The effects of the drugs were kicking in and there was nothing more I wanted to do than to sink against those pillows and fall asleep. But one glance at Lucian made me regret having these side effects.

What if I fell asleep and failed to observe him? Or worse, what if he hurt me?

I blink rapidly in an attempt to keep awake and then sneak a glance at him. Lucian still looked wide awake with his steely eyes focused on the pages before him.

"You are not a strong fighter," He suddenly says and I turn towards him in surprise. "Correct me if I'm wrong but you fought with your brain not your body yesterday."

Fought with my brain? Of course I had to use my body to fight. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for my body.

He notices the frown on my face and smiles. "You anticipated his moves. I saw your hand raise even before he lifted his leg to kick you. That is how you won."

I nod slowly, wondering how he could pick up such minute movements from one match.

"He used those same moves during training," I admit.

"Do you know who you will be fighting next?" He asks, placing his book down on the bed side table next to him.

I shake my head, worrying more about the dull pain in my ribs than the person I'm supposed to fight with to survive here. I doubt I'll be able to fight anyone in the condition I am currently in.

His question catches me off guard and paralyzes me with worry. It feels like I have just beaten Michael and now I have to worry about fighting with someone else.

An image of the sand filled pit, lined by tall walls that promise no escape and rows of stands with screaming humans and Plutonian's flood my vision and I feel like throwing up.

I clutch my side that has begun to throb and look at the ceiling to distract myself.

"I have a week, right?" I whisper weakly.

"You have six days," Lucian says quietly. "They usually place the newcomers against the weakest first. That would be Michael for you."

Michael was the weakest? If the weakest could cause me this much pain, what was I in for next? I swallow hard and try not to give in to the anxiety burrowing a hole deep into my neck.

"I told you I would help you get into the army. And I will help you prepare but the winning boils down to you and you alone. I don't mean to scare you but I don't want you to get comfortable. Your next fight will most likely be against Christina or Leslie."

He sits up and faces me before crossing his legs over one another. I mirror him and rest my head in the palm of my hands, eager for more information.

"Christina is small sized, slightly shorter than you. She's been a trainee for about three months and she's won three matches so far. She's small but fast, ran circles around her previous opponents, tired them out and then stabbed them in the neck."

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