Breathless under their Rule

CHAPTER 4: NO ONE ESCORTS THE BLEEDING

CHAPTER 4: NO ONE ESCORTS THE BLEEDING

POV: Mira Vale

"Looks like she won't make it through the night."

As I walk into the tunnel, I hear laughter.

It sticks to my back like glue.

As I walk, the noise of the arena fades behind me, and the stone swallows sound. Every step sends a shock through my ribs. I can see better in the middle, but the edges are blurry. Stopping here would be worse. If I stopped, they would see me fall.

There is a smell of wet stone and rusty iron in the tunnel. Torches burn low along the walls, making shadows that are too long. My boots don't fit right. One lace is broken. I can't remember when.

No one is following me.

That's the new rule.

Walking alone. Without protection.

The whispers still get through the tunnel mouth behind me.

"Did you see her face?"

"She didn't scream loud enough."

"She believes she is unique."

"Unranked don't last."

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. The pain helps me stand up straight.

The tunnel splits up ahead: one way goes to the dorms and the other goes to the outer yards. I am not sure. The route through the dorm is shorter. People also watch it. There are a lot of people in the corners. Eyes all over the place.

The yards are less bright. More space. Not as easy to guess.

I turn towards the yards.

The air outside feels like a slap on my face. It's cold. Sharp. The sky over Crescent Academy is gray and low, and the clouds are pressing down on the towers like a warning. Small groups of students are scattered along the paths, their voices low and curious.

Everyone looks at me when they see me.

The looks aren't pity.

They’re calculation.

There are blood stains on my sleeve. My cheek is puffy. I hold my side without even thinking about it. Like prey does when it's hurt.

As I walk by, a group of first-year students stops talking. One of them laughs nervously. Someone else whispers my name like it's something bad.

I keep on walking.

A third-year student leans against a pillar in front of them with their arms crossed. He watches me walk up with slow, lazy eyes.

"Hey," he says. "You dropped something in the ring?"

I don't say anything.

He still steps in front of me. So close that I can smell smoke on his breath. He looks down at my ribs.

"Looks like they missed a spot."

I stop.

My heart beats loudly in my ears. I don't have the energy for another fight. He is aware of it. I know he knows it.

"Move," I say.

He smiles. "Or what?"

A bell rings from the central tower before I can answer.

The sound spreads out across the yard.

Warning about curfew.

Students start to drift away, getting busy or losing interest all of a sudden. The third-place student hesitates and looks at the tower.

He shrugs and steps to the side. "Next time."

I walk by him without looking back.

The path bends toward the lower dorm block, which is the oldest one. It was built before Crescent Academy learned how to hide its cruelty behind polish. The rocks here are broken. The lights get dimmer.

The third floor is where my room is.

Every step up feels like it's getting steeper. I hold on to the railing with white knuckles. My legs give out halfway up. I drop to one knee, and I can't stop the sound of my breath coming out.

Footsteps can be heard above.

I stop.

A couple of students walk by, their voices low.

“…said she was unprotected.”

“…shouldn’t be alone.”

“…not our problem.”

Their footsteps fade away.

I stay there until my breathing slows down enough for me to move again.

My door is slightly open.

It wasn't when I left.

I slowly push it open.

It's a small room. Bed that is not very wide. Desk. One window that is high up. Someone has been in there. The stuffing is coming out of my torn mattress. My books are all over the floor, and some of the pages are ripped. The only extra uniform I have is hanging from the light fixture with a cut down the front.

A message carved into the desk catches my eye.

WEAK

The letters are deep and ugly.

I fall to the edge of the bed, shaking. Not crying. Not yet. My hands are numb. My throat hurts.

They didn't take anything.

They wanted me to look at this.

There's a knock on the door.

Sharp. Loud.

I flinch so hard that pain shoots down my side.

A voice says, "Open up." Female. Calm.

I don't move.

The voice says, "Mira," again. "I wouldn't knock if I wanted to hurt you."

That doesn't make me feel better.

I make myself stand up and open the door.

Lyra Thorn stands in the doorway, looking calm and collected. There are no stains on her uniform. Her hair is smooth. Her eyes quickly and accurately take in everything—the blood, the broken room, and my posture.

She grins.

"You're bleeding," she says softly.

I don't say anything.

She goes inside without asking for permission, being careful not to touch anything. She looks at the carved desk for a long time.

She says, "Messy." "Students can be so emotional."

"Get out," I say.

She turns to me and says, "You should listen."

"I didn't ask you to come.”

"Yes," she agrees. "You didn't ask for the ring either."

Anger comes on strong and fast. "Say what you want."

Her smile gets smaller. "Protection has been taken away." You know what that means.

"I know."

"Good." She gets closer and lowers her voice. "Because other people will act like you don't."

I get ready for the threat.

Instead, she says, "You made them feel bad."

"Who?"

She turns her head. "Everyone who thinks weakness should be quiet."

I laugh once, and it's sharp and broken. "I didn't choose the ring."

"No," she says in a soft voice. "But you chose not to break."

She looks at my ribs. "That made things harder."

"Is that why you're here?" I ask. "To tell me why I deserve it?"

Lyra's eyes harden. "I'm here because your survival makes noise."

"Go ahead and kill me," I say.

She looks at me for a long time.

After that, she smiles again.

"Oh, Mira," she says. "If they wanted you dead, you'd be dead by now."

A shiver runs down my back.

She goes on, "They want something else." "They want to see who you go to."

"I won't."

Her smile gets bigger. "You will." Everyone does.

She takes a step back toward the door. "You have until nightfall before the focus turns... physical."

She stops at the door.

"One more thing," she says. "Kael won't help you."

I look into her eyes. "I know."

Her eyebrows go up in surprise.

She goes.

The door closes quietly behind her.

My heart is racing and my mind is racing.

Nightfall.

I stagger to the window and look outside. The yard below is already getting darker, with shadows pooling between buildings. Things move there, but too slowly and too carefully.

Waiting.

A loud knock on my door wakes me up again.

This time, it's harder.

A man's voice says, "Open up." Not calm. Not nice.

My heart rate goes up.

The voice goes on, "I know you're in there." "Council announcement went out." "You're fair game now."

My hand wraps around the edge of the desk.

Another knock. Louder.

"Last chance."

I look around my room, which is a mess. There is no way out. No safety.

There is only one choice left.

I unlock the door.

Three students are standing there, blocking the hallway. One of them grins and says,

"Come on, Mira. Let's walk.”