Buzzing was everything Blenda heard. Her body was numb, from the freezing tips of her fingers to the black and blues of her body. Blood painted her busted lips and several other cuts. It trailed from her eyebrow and over her swollen eye to stop somewhere on her cheek where it got smeared to the side. Her knuckles were raw, blood dripping on the ground.

Blenda didn’t know if the spinning figures of the fighters scattered around the bailey was caused by the nausea, or was she swaying as she struggled to rise from the ground where she blacked out moments ago.

It was past midnight, the bailey was dark—at least that was what she saw from the little gap between her lids.

Muffled voices assaulted her ears which her brain didn’t bother to decipher.

After a day long of fighting, and only half an hour of rest between fights, the combats lacked skills and precision. The fighters looked like a bunch of drunkards fighting in a dark parking lot.

Blenda closed her eyes as a wave of nausea hit her. Her empty stomach contracted as she dry heaved, disturbing her bruised ribs. They didn’t give them any food all day.

The head judge stood from his chair. He patted the shoulder of the last man standing, sending him to his knees. She didn’t catch what the judge said as she battled her physical pain and the burn of defeat. Her predicament saved her from hearing what the second judge, Alonso, said to the long gone wolves.

“Participants and lucky winner, you can’t relay on your luck for so long. Your sloppy combats were a disappointing start. My advice to you is to work hard to make up for the lack of skills and strength.”

Then he disappeared in the darkness of the hallway.

Blenda flopped on the ground, not caring to go back to her room. The sky was dark and clouded, blurring in front of Blenda’s heavy eyelids.

A cold drop of water poked her cheek, then rolled to the side of her mouth. It stung as it slipped between her lips, reminding her of how thirsty she was.

Another poke to her eye, to her forehead, to her nose and her cheeks again. They became faster, but Blenda was defenceless against them.

In a state between consciousness and unconsciousness, she floated in the air, secured by a pair of strong arms. Air brushed against her as she moved, freezing the wet spots on her skin.

She swayed in a non rhythmic way, sending her brain in a maze of dizziness.

She gripped the closest stable thing her hand found and snuggled closer to the steady heartbeat.

A soothing scent patted her nerves causing a soft whining to erupt from her wolf. Warm lips pressed against her forehead and a soft command was whispered. She didn’t comprehend it, but her brain seemed to do as it submitted her senses to the darkness.

🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻

In a spare of seconds of this world, but hours of the world behind Blenda’s closed eyes, a flame of awareness lit Blenda's brain, but was flooded with confusion as exhaustion and pain pinned her to where she lay.

She only felt this pain once in her life when she was six years old. Without a proper training she'd wandered in the undiscovered lengths of the mountain to hunt for her starving pack who was attacked by the unforgiven winter of the Alps.

The juvenile wolf received what her impulse brought on her. Trapped under layers of snow, she watched with petrified eyes as the cold gained control over her body, making her extremities heavy and numb.

Blenda’s mind jumped at the memory. In its confused state it tried to save the toe she'd lost that day to the cold. It sent frantic orders to her limbs to move, but all what was seen from the outside was a hesitant twitch of her hand.

Arthur’s warm hands engulfed her cold one, whispering a plea he never wished to say in his second day with his mate.

“Come on Blenda. Come back to me.”

To the world, it was a second between the whisper and the opening of her eyes, but behind those lids, it took hee ages to find her way out of the cocoon of expectations her mind knitted based on a memory he deemed safe—A bed of fur in a primitive room surrounded by her father and seven brothers. Her eyes opened to a reality that was far from that.

Arthur’s heart leaped towards his mate dragging him behind to the side of her bed. He sunk to the floor, holding her healed hand.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

He hugged her arm to his chest as his other hand rested on her head, stroking the tangled blond stands.

She pulled her hand from his, sitting on up. The aching of her body dulled to soreness. Arthur kept his hand on her back, asking unnecessary questions with a grin that was painful to see this early in the morning.

It’s the morning, right?

She looked out of the window to find the sun high in the sky which meant that it was noon.

Her eyes widened as she threw the cover off of her, tossing her legs to the floor. They landed on Arthur hand as he pushed them back on bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m late.” She pushed him, trying to stand, but he said, halting her movement. “It’s a day off for you all to recover. Relax.”

She sagged back on her bed with a sad “Oh”, yesterday’s happenings coming back to her.

She looked at her lap. A foreign feeling burned her chest as her last fight replayed in her mind. She’d been doing well. She won all her fights until the last one. Her endurance, her best assets, failed her.

Her hands gripped the sheets at her sides. It was bad enough to lose, but for it be because of what she always thought was her strength, that was another level of betrayal and humiliation.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

She forgot he was there.

“Nein, I’m fine. You should go to rest. You look worn out.” Se said, careful not to hurt his feeling. He did too much for her already. She didn’t want to push him away, but she needed some time to herself to think things over so she wouldn’t repeat her mistake.

“No, I’m fine. I can function with little sleep. Today is about you. I’ve to help you get prepared for what will come next.”

Blenda’s eyebrows reached her hairline.

That was very thoughtful of him. She didn’t know how he would help her, but she nodded, standing.

“Show me the gym. I need to work harder. I’ll go train with the others. Maybe I can learn their fighting techniques or see their weaknesses—”

“Wow, wait there, tiger. You need to take a shower and have some food.”

“Ok, I’ll go take a shower and you go bring us something to eat. Then—”

“Then we go on a date.”

“Was (what)? Nein. What about helping me with the competition?”

“I am helping you get prepared... mentally. You have to take your head out of the game in order for your head to be in the game.”

Blenda’s eyebrows drew together, studying his handsome features. She couldn’t decide if it was her English or if it was him who didn’t make a sense.

“Nein. I need to focus on the competition.”

She went towards the bathroom, him trailing behind her.

“Yes, that’s what I said. I’ll go change and take you on a date.”

“Atur. Nein.” She slammed the door on his face, locking it.