Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
With a grunt of irritation, Roman swiped my weapon and took aim at Titus. “Final words?”
“Hey,” I gasped out. He’d stolen my gun. How dare he! “That’s mine.”
Titus narrowed his eyes, his attention never leaving Roman. “You can’t use someone else’s weapon. You’ll be disqualified.”
“First lesson at the Roman Alexander School of Winning. Always take note of the smallest details.” Roman arched a brow at his challenger. “You heard the rules same as me. The HP never mentioned theft.”
Oooh. He wasn’t wrong. But it was still a terrible move, proving Roman lacked a moral compass when it came to the acquisition of power.
Titus paled. “Don’t—”
Too late. Click, click, click. Roman unloaded my darts.
An animalistic roar left Titus as his body lurched. He teetered and tried to lock his knees, but the dose was too high. Like Jericho and that other guy, he went down foaming at the mouth. For the third time, medics raced to administer some kind of antidote.
“Behold.” The HP dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin and stood. “Your champions.”
“We won!” A grinning Roman dropped the weapon and leaned over to wrap me in his arms. He swung me around. “Don’t be mad, Ardie. I did what was best for us all. And don’t worry. You’re exempt from my wrath.” After setting me on my feet, he clasped my shoulder. “Everything’s gonna be good now. You’ll see.”
“Ow, ow, ow!” I cringed from the contact as receptors lit up with remnants of the pain toxin, or whatever it was. “I’m not a supersoldier like you.”
“Right.” He winced an apology and released me. “My bad.”
“The rest of you, vote,” the HP commanded. “Out loud. We’ll start with you.” He pointed to the first lord to be eliminated.
The lord darted his gaze between us, a strawberry halfway to his mouth. “Roman?”
“Are you asking or telling?” the HP queried with an easy tone that sent chills down my spine.
“Telling?” came the squeaked reply.
Okay. No big deal. I’d lost one. So what. I would snag the rest. The others must realize integrity mattered more than brute force. Except, one by one, our teammates cast their vote for Roman. Even Jericho and Titus. I withered more with every dismissal but tried not to show it.
“Congratulations, Roman.” High Prince Dolion tossed his napkin onto the tabletop. To the rest of us, he said, “You have your representative.”
I balled my hands into fists. Part of me suspected he’d required a public vote simply to embarrass me. “Congrats,” I told Roman. Though I wished to cry, I harbored no ill will toward him. Not much, anyway.
He ruffled my hair like he’d done to Mykal, then flexed his muscles. The other soldiers cheered.
“If you’re hurt, let a medic tend to you. If not, return to your room for an early lock-in. Tomorrow is going to be a rude awakening for many of you.” The HP stalked off, never looking back.
Mykal attempted to give chase, but he waved her off. She met my gaze and grimaced. I tried to smile with reassurance, but my knees finally gave out. Down I went at last.
I never hit the floor. Shiloh jetted over, catching me.
“I’m here, I’ve got you,” he muttered, easing me down. He dug inside a bag and withdrew a needle that he uncapped and shoved into my arm. “Better?”
The pain fled in a heartbeat. I sagged over the tiles, every muscle relaxing. “Much.”
“Good.” He took my hand and danced his fingers over my palm, signing six different shapes before moving on to his next patient. My lids slid closed as the corners of my lips lifted. He’d just spoken to me in his secret language. But what had he said?
The next thing I knew, Mykal was pulling me to my feet. “Come on, runner-up. Let’s grab some snacks before they disappear.”
The apples and figs! Needing no further encouragement, I tripped over to the counter, a little stronger with every step. Except. “The desserts are gone.” Along with everything else.
Suddenly I hated the HP, my teammates, and even the day. Mykal and I begrudgingly gathered the crumbs and trudged to our cell. We settled on her mattress and split the bounty.
“I need you to decipher a hand message for me,” I said, then drew the shapes on her palm.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. “That’s what Shiloh signed to you? You’re sure of it?”
I bit my bottom lip and nodded. “Is it bad?”
“No? Maybe? I have no idea why he would tell you this, but—”
A buzz sounded over a PA system, and our cell door closed automatically. “Engage chains,” an automated voice announced.
I forgot everything else. Dread unfurling, I stood and trudged to my bed. The cold shackle weighed heavy in my palm as my gaze followed the links to a hook in the wall.
“Count down from three?” Mykal asked, sounding just as nervous as I felt.