F I F T E E N

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challenge

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❝There are no words to 

express my sorrow and regret

 for the pain I have caused 

others by words and actions.❞

—Matt Lauer 

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+eralyn

Knowing what was about to occur sent a thrill into my blood. Going into a war, there was high that always kept me in a drive to keep fighting. Perhaps it was the instinct to survive that has been bred into my bloodline since we were once beasts, but I knew deep inside me it was more than that.

I wouldn't exactly say I was overzealous to beat the literal shit out of my brother, but I was. Considering his recent behavior, this was something we both needed. There was no doubt there was an unspoken argument between us and what better way to get it all out than to fight?

As Rhys flew me back to the townhouse, I took everything in me to keep him from seeing my excitement. Not only would I fighting one of my brothers for the first time, but it'd be the first time I went up against and Illyrian. An Illyrian general at that. I never knew such a thing could get me excited, but I was a warrior now, and my interests had changed since the last time I was here, in this world. Living a sedentary lifestyle no longer appealed to me. Of course, I didn't want to keep murdering and going into war, but I will always have the urge to do something. If I'm not, I feel as if my power might make me combust from the inside.

I had fought against everything dangerous and beautiful, then under Maeve and now under Aelin, but now I looked forward to my new conquests. The future I would have here, fighting amongst my brothers, the glory—

I sucked in a breath.

The future I had here... I resisted the urge to snort at my stupidity. There was no future for me here or anywhere. I was supposed to have perished long ago, but here I am. Here we all are. I resisted the urge to curse the mother and her wicked sense of humor.

I feel horrible for giving my brothers any sort of hope. In the end, I'll have to go back to Terrassen anyway because I am dead here. Not in hiding, but irrevocably dead. I would have to return due to the vicious High Lords who, as soon as they find out there are ways to get into alternate worlds, might wage war just to get more territory.

Although this was partially Amren's fault, I knew I played a role in this falsehood of me continuing to live here. After all, I had hope. I had hope that maybe I'd get to come back here and resume the life I had here, but I was foolish to believe that. I was no longer that little girl, naive and afraid to even speak a word against her father. The female I was now... she had taken down queens, taken down gods... It was safe to say there was no naivety here. Not anymore, at least.

Rhys gracefully landed in the red training circle, carefully sliding me onto my feet. His hands were tense on my body as if he wasn't quite ready to let me go. He knew what awaited me in this ring, what awaited Cassian in this ring, and he wasn't sure whether he was ready to see that. I offered him a gentle smile as I met his eyes, but it was a bit too strained because it only made his eyes reflect more worry and concern. I looked away from his eyes like I had done the night before as I patted his shoulder, beginning to walk away from him. His hands slid off of me slowly, scrambling to find some way to spin this, to convince me that maybe this wasn't a good idea—

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