Two

Moon

L ust never returned after all the chaos died down. I wanted to go look for him, but the other three wouldn’t let me.

“I don’t like that he’s out there alone…” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“And there’s no way we’re letting you go out there on your own, either. For the same reasons,” Silas says, without looking up from the fish he’s cooking over the fire. He got it from the pond Tristan and I washed off in earlier. I take one step in the direction Lust walked off in, but Tristan quickly blocks my path.

“You heard him,” the Elf Prince says, lifting a brow as he looks down at me.

“You three suck,” I grumble.

“That's your job, actually,” Tristan says with a wink, and I glare up at him.

“I bite,” I threaten, but he just smirks.

“I think I speak for all of us when I say, we all enjoy a little biting.”

“Tristan, I doubt you’d enjoy me biting your dick,” I sass, and he shrugs.

“I might, if you’re the one doing the biting, Badger.”

Sweet Girl huffed out a long sigh after that and then walked off in the direction Lust disappeared in. I think that meant she was going to look for him, but I’m not entirely sure. Maybe she was on a mission to kill him. I wouldn’t blame her. He’s been a dick. Or maybe she just didn’t want to listen to Tristan’s attempts to flirt.

Silas and Tristan both had food in their bags, so at least we all get to have a decent meal with all the fish too. After the tree penis incident, the guys all seem pretty thrown off.

They’re not the only ones. I keep getting side-eye from the three of them, and more than once I caught Tristan squinting at me like he was trying to see through my skin and bones.

Like, if he just looked hard enough, he could see all my secrets written on my body. I wish. None of them want answers as badly as I do.

“I wasn’t sure when the right time to tell you this was, but, I’ve been able to sense something was different with your magic for a long time. Don't get mad!” Arlo says, throwing his hands up, as I nibble on a piece of dried fish.

“Please tell me you haven’t been keeping secrets from me too.” The look in my eyes must be pathetic, because Arlo gathers me into his arms, pulling me until I’m sitting between his spread legs in the grass. My back is pressed against his chest, and I’m grateful because I don’t want him to see my face right now.

“Yes and no. Before Crow brought me to the Orc Realm, he said something that I thought I understood at the time, but after what Lust just said, I’m worried I don’t know anything.” Arlo uses one hand to caress my arm, and the other rests on my lap. We’re both wearing the Tournament-provided clothes, but I’d rolled the long sleeves up to eat.

My eyes are drawn to the movement of his fingers, and the veins in his hand should not be so damn sexy.

“What did Crow say?” I ask, my voice a little strained because now is not the time to be feeling aroused. Even if my sexy Heart Bonded Orc is touching me like he never has before.

“He asked if I knew what your other form was. At the time, I thought he was referring to the fact that your magic felt different from a Witch's, but now…I’m not sure. If the Elven King isn’t trying to kill you because of your connection to me, then who sent Goblins after you, and why the fuck is Lust so casual about it all. Like attempted murder is nothing new to him.” Arlo’s words reflect my thoughts from earlier, and I shake my head.

“I’m not a Witch?” I ask, needing to hear someone else confirm my suspicions. The ones I was too scared to voice.

“I don’t think so. You feel like a Half-Breed, like me. Not Orc, just, you feel different.”

“Fenrick said something about Half-Breeds… Oh, that’s someone I met after the first trial. The Fae Prince,” I say, turning just enough to look over my shoulder at him.

“Fuck, Moon, I don’t know.” Arlo shakes his head, holding onto me tighter. “We’ll all go look for Lust in the morning. He might be the only one with answers. Unless Sweet Girl returns with his dead body first,” he chuckles, making me snort.

“It’s a toss-up with her. If he pisses her off, she might knock his ass out,” I joke, and even though I can’t see his smile under the mask he put back on, I can see it in his eyes. I want to kiss him, but the mask… I settle for resting my head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat.

If Lust has been protecting me since I was five, then what the hell has been trying to kill me this whole time? And more importantly, fucking why?

Nothing makes sense to me anymore.

I’m drawn out of my runaway thoughts when Tristan starts teasing Silas about his cooking skills, and I watch as the jovial Prince mocks my stoic Murder Noodle. My eyes get heavy, and the air gets chilly, so I don't protest when I’m tucked into my sleeping bag, resting on the mossy bed between Silas and Arlo, with Tristan sleeping at our feet. He didn’t want to sleep next to either of the guys.

At some point during the night, I wake up in a panic, sweating as my heart races. Now I can’t sleep, so I’m staring up at the stars, wondering what the fuck I got myself into by joining these games when I hear a branch crack. I sit up, looking around frantically.

I’m paranoid, so I start trying to wake up Arlo and Silas, as I search for the source of the sound. Fingers crossed it’s just a sassy Mungus with a Phoenix on her back.

Both Arlo and Silas take way too damn long to wake up, so I pinch them both, and thankfully that does the trick.

“Why?” Arlo grumbles, and I point in the direction the noise came from. Of course, I don’t see shit, but Silas does. His hair is messy from sleep, but he’s still an intimidating sight.

“Ogre!” he hisses, and I jump to my feet. Tristan wakes up, as the other two men move between me and the danger.

“Run, Moon.” Tristan shoves me away from them, but I shake my head. It’s dark, and we’re in the middle of a deadly game. I’m not leaving them.

“I can’t just leave you. I won’t,” I protest, but Tristan isn’t having it.

“You have to. We can’t protect ourselves if all of our focus is on you. We’ll catch up, just run!” The look in his eyes filled with fear entirely focused on me, and the fact that I don’t want to be a distraction, sends me sprinting away with one last look at my Heart Bonded.

“Be safe,” I whisper, begging the universe not to let them be hurt.

I don’t like running away. I feel like I’m abandoning them. I don’t want to leave them to fend for themselves, but I don’t want to be the reason they get injured either. If any of them got hurt, because they were trying to protect me, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

I spent most of my life training for these games. Not just gaming but training my body as well. Fighting and learning how to defend myself, but…I’m fucking useless.

Taking off the Moonstone and having my power malfunction has not made my life easier in any way. I need to adapt. I need to do what I came here to do, and once the Tournament has ended, and I fucking win, I can focus on everything else.

As I run through the dark aimlessly, I see a pair of glowing blue eyes between the trees, and my heart rate would have picked up if I weren’t already running like my life depended on it. Adrenaline does kick in though, giving me a boost of energy, and I thank the game makers when it starts raining.

Sure, it absolutely sucks getting soaking wet, but at least the sound of rain is louder than the sound of my breathing, and my heated skin cools off.

I see smoke through the tree line up ahead and consider turning in the opposite direction, but I need shelter.

There's a slight chance that whoever made the fire won't try to kill me. Or maybe they’ve already moved on, and they’re just lazy. Or, they left the fire lit for the next person. Or, it’s a trap. Or…you know what? I think the possibilities are endless. So, I’ll just cross my fingers that there are supplies and shelter at the end of the smoke rainbow.

And I’ll double-cross my fingers that the fire starter isn’t hostile. Or still there at all.

I keep running until my feet hurt, and the adrenaline wears off when I finally reach what appears to be a cabin.

I halt a little too abruptly and nearly fall over but catch myself before I face plant. I’m bent over, hands on my knees, when I hear a door creak, then slam.

The sound scares the pants right off my ass, and I jump back. I hit the deck, ducking low, rolling onto my back, and then onto my stomach again until I’m about six rolls to the left of the doorway. The door creaks and slams once more, and I squint, daring to lift my head for a look. Oh, man.

I rolled in the mud for no reason. The wind is just fucking with the door.

I sigh, climb back to my feet, and attempt to de-mudify myself before making my way to the front door.

I open it, peek inside, and then sigh with relief when I find it empty. I take one last look behind me, and when I see nothing, I head inside the cabin.

There’s a small fire, that isn’t much more than embers now, burning in a large fireplace. Thankfully, whoever used this cabin before me brought the woodpile inside, so none of it is soaked from the rain. There also appears to be a fresh stack of supplies on a table in the center of the room. I shut the door behind me, and lock it. Then I check all the windows. It’s a single room, with one bathroom, and three windows. The fireplace takes up most of the wall to the right of the door, with the bathroom on the left.

There’s a rug in front of the fireplace with a stack of pillows and blankets as well. It looks like someone set it up to be used.

Once I’ve secured all the windows, I double-check to make sure there’s no one hiding anywhere.

I even use the table to climb into the attic and take a peek around in there with a stick I lit on fire. Of course, I nearly lit the entire cabin on fire by doing this, but my magic actually had my back for once.

Basically, I stuck the lit stick through the attic hole, and it caught some insulation on fire.

Insulation burns like dry twigs in a hot desert, and when I freaked out, my magic responded by dropping a pile of sand…well, everywhere. Including myself.

When I attempted to call to my magic once more, I got nothing. Not even a spark. The fucker only responds during the most randomly chaotic moments, and I’m sick of it.

So now here I am, standing in front of the fire, stripping off my wet clothes, and making a mess on the floor. I use the clothes to clean up the pile of sand and mud I leave behind. I desperately need a shower now.

“We need to have a serious talk about you abandoning me,” I scold my magic. Who knows, maybe the little shit can hear me.

I head to the bathroom and consider cleaning my clothes in the tub, but don’t want to clog the drain before I shower. There’s a towel, washcloth, and a bottle of what looks like soap in the small room.

This will work. I’ll search through the supplies for anything else I might need after I get this sand out of my hair. I sit down on the cold porcelain toilet and yelp. Shit, that’s chilly. But man, oh man, is it nice to pee in a toilet again. And toilet paper? I’m taking that with me. Once I’m done, I flush and wash my hands because I’m a lady. Just kidding. I’m no lady. More like a domestic troll.

I snort a laugh when I look at myself in the mirror. My purple hair is caked in sand and stuck to my head. I look like that sand guy from that spider movie the Humans created unironically. Only, not as badass. If only they knew about the Creature Realm. Seriously creepy beings there. Necromancers and shit too. Scary, and rival the power of the Light Ones.

I’m starting to shiver, and not because of the thoughts of creatures and dead bodies walking around, so I pull the curtain of the shower open and turn the knob to the highest heat. Now, I just have to do that awkward naked waiting with one hand in the shower, while the water takes three years to reach a temperature that isn’t arctic levels of cold.

“Fuck yes,” I hiss when the water heats to a nice boiling hot, and step into the stream, washing off days' worth of ick. Pond baths just don’t cut it. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’m part hellhound. Heat good, cold bad. I could stay in here forever.

I pause. Looking down at my chest. For a second, I thought I’d taken my necklace off, but thankfully the camera-blocking beauty is still on. The games would never televise my naked body, this is a family show! Ha…but someone would have seen the footage in editing. The games are live, but there is a few-second delay, just to make sure no one gets shown taking a poop or something equally unpleasant. The viewers are here for a bloodbath, not a golden shower. Ha! Get it? Oh, shut up, I’m hilarious.

I’d placed my pebbles on the rug in front of the fireplace, so I know they’re not going anywhere. I wanted to keep them far away from any drains because I know myself far too well. One slip, and whoosh, those mofos would disappear forever.

Since I’m alone and just waiting, I try to call on my magic once more. “Come on, don’t be a prude, show Mama what you got.” Lifting my hand in the air, I try to manifest a rose, but nothing happens. I feel depleted, the way I used to when my moonstone needed to recharge. I wish I had answers. I wish I had the fucking moonstone. Why did my mother want me to take it off?

“What the fuck is going onnnn?” I groan, my shoulders slumping forward.

I’m turning into a prune, so I guess I should get out. I’m enjoying the last few moments of hot water when there’s a commotion outside the bathroom door.

Closing my eyes, I let the water run over my face and count to five. I don’t know when I’ll get another shower, but clearly, my time here is over. I turn the water off and flip my head upside down, wringing all the water out of my hair that I can, before tying it up into a bun. I grab the towel, dry my body, and step out of the tub carefully, so I don’t fall to my death on the damp floor.

I wrap the towel around my body, crossing my fingers that whoever is trying to break into my little cabin fails and fucks off.

I rush into the other room, and thankfully the door seems to be holding its own against its abuser. Someone is definitely slamming their big body against it, trying to get inside, though. Fuckers.

I dump the supplies out onto the table and grab the clothes first. The games must be tracking me, even though I’m hidden from the cameras, because the only clothes in the bag are all my perfect size. That thought trips me up for a second, because why would they set anything up to make my life easier at all? That hardly seems entertaining. Unless these clothes dissolve in water or something equally insane.

“I’ll just shift…” I hear a deep voice straining to say outside.

“No, you’re injured. If you shift, you might make it worse,” another man growls, sounding very panicked, so I drop my towel to pull my clothes on before anyone manages to–of course, that’s the exact moment the door swings open.

So, here I am, butt naked, as two men come stumbling in the door. I freak out, and go into fight mode, grab a can of food off the table, and chuck it at them. It flies right past both men and out the open door. I grab my towel off the floor and cover my front bits, as I take a step back, preparing to arm myself with another can.

“Oh,” I say when I see who the intruders are and release my hold on the can.

Clearly, they weren’t expecting me either. Odas has his arm slung over Cato’s shoulder and looks like he’s not doing too well. That doesn’t stop him from checking me out. He’s got a flirty smirk, even though it appears as though he might be bleeding out.

“Why are you naked, Moon?” He manages to croak out, his voice strained. Cato just stands there staring at my naked thighs.

“Why are you bleeding?” I counter, and his laugh turns into a cough. “Shit, lay him there.” I hold my towel up with one hand and point to the mountain of pillows in front of the fire with the other. I’d added a few logs to the fire before my shower, so it’s much bigger now, thankfully. As Cato helps his friend to the pile of comfiness, I drop the towel again, and work quickly to put my clothes on.

The black lace thong and matching lace bra make me suspicious of the person who put these supplies here, but I don’t have time to care about that right now. The black pants are a stretchy but sturdy material with many pockets. And the long-sleeved shirt dips a bit low in the front, showing too much boob, but at least it too feels like a sturdy, but comfortable material.

I grab the first aid kit off the pile of supplies I’d dumped out earlier and rush over to Odas and Cato. Cato is applying pressure to his friend's wound and looks pale himself.

Odas is cute in his Cyclops form, though I’ll never admit that out loud, but in his man form? He’s ridiculous, even as he bleeds all over the rug. Dark brown skin, short black hair, and devilish dimples equal a very alluring man.

Cato’s skin is lighter than Odas’s with a more olive undertone, and he looks like he’s gotten quite a suntan over the last couple of days. His face looks like it’s turning a bit green at the moment, though. I frown at him because he’s staring at the fire intently, even as he tries to help Odas.

“Cato?” I ask, as I rest my hand on his shoulder after I kneel down beside the two men, but Odas shakes his head.

“He’s disassociating. He’ll be okay in a little while. Help me get patched up, so I can snap him out of it?” Odas asks, and I nod, turning away from Cato, before pulling bandages and cleaning solution out of the small kit.

“He doesn’t like blood?” I question, and Odas shakes his head, a grim expression clouding his face.

“He doesn’t like seeing my blood,” Odas clarifies, then hisses, when I move Cato’s hands away, and pour the alcohol on the wound. “I’ll heal tonight, once you pull the debris out.”

“When I do what now?” I yelp, and Odas chuckles, though it’s strained.

“As you can see, Cato is a bit catatonic presently, and I can’t clean a wound I can’t see clearly, so I’m gonna need your help. Grab some tweezers and gauze.”

“What? No, I can’t! I’m not good at this sort of thing!” I shake my head, looking down at the wound. “How’d you even get this?” My voice is all high and squeaky, but I’m getting more nervous with every word he says.

“Ogre club. Covered in spikes. And mud. You have to pull the small rocks and shit out, or my healing won’t kick in. I can’t heal around stuff.”

“Oh, balls. I-I-I can’t!” I repeat, even as reality sets in, and I already know I have to.

“Then I guess I’ll just bleed out and die.” Those words make Cato flinch, and my head snaps to him.

“Odas…” I whisper, my attention returning to the Cyclops when he grabs my hand.

“Theodas, actually.” He smiles softly, and I nibble my lip. “Cato can’t do this, Moon. Not for me. I’m strong, but even I can die from blood loss. I need you.” His words cut straight to my heart, and I feel like a wimpy asshole.

“Oh heck. Okay.” I pull out tweezers, then gauze, pour a bit of alcohol on both, and then on my hands as well.

Not that he’d get an infection, but just to be safe. I take a deep, steadying breath, and get to work.

“I need you to keep talking. So, I don’t freak out,” I mumble, as I lean forward, getting a better look. He’s got several small rocks and even a bit of bark in the wound.

“Okay, uh,” Odas pauses for a second and then hisses when I pull the first piece out. “I met Cato when I was about three. My family was gone, well, dead actually, and I was being held in the Fae Realm in a cell. I spent almost all of my time alone, until one day, someone tossed this little lizard into my cell with me. There was this one guard, he seemed to take pity on us. He wasn’t like the other Fae. He always had this kid with him, too. I think because Cato and I were the same age as the kid, it made him feel guilty. I don’t really know. Anyway, he, tsss…” Odas inhales a sharp breath, as I pull out another piece, this one had been stuck in his skin pretty deep. My hands are shaking, but I just keep reminding myself that if I don't, he’ll be in pain all night.

“Keep going,” I encourage him, as I pick my next piece.

“Well, Cato, as you know, is a Dragon, so when I called him a lizard, he tried to fight me. Which was…unsuccessful. He was smaller than me back then, and that guard I’d mentioned? Well, he stopped coming back one day, and that’s when the Fae Queen started visiting us. She’d force Cato to shift, steal his scales, and cut my arm open to collect my blood, using it to control my Cyclops.” Odas flinches, as I pull another piece out, and I bite my lip.

“I’m sorry, that’s horrible. I can’t even imagine.” One day, I’m going to kick that Fae Queen’s ass. Lock her in a cell, and see how she likes it.

“We got used to it, unfortunately. Eventually, the guard returned a year later, offering food and shit, but by then, we were already in bad shape. We’d learned a lot over the years from the other prisoners. About the rumors that the Fae Queen’s son, Fenrick, was a bastard. That both Cato and I were the last of our kind, having been hunted down and killed by the Fae, and other Realm’s wanting to use us for their evil magic.”

Everything he says shocks me, but my mind gets hung up on the rumors about Fenrick, and wonder what caused them. Does he not look like the King? I have no idea what the King looks like. Nor the Queen, for that matter. I personally look nothing like my own father. Sometimes that just happens.

“Then one day, the cell door was just open,” Cato whispers, speaking for the first time. I pull another piece of debris out of the wound and glance over at the Dragon, and my heart aches for these two men. They were just kids…

“We were about fifteen at the time. Because the guard had taken pity on us, we weren’t in as bad of shape as most of the other prisoners, but we weren’t exactly strong. I thought we were going to die trying to escape that day, but the entire Realm was in chaos because Fenrick had gone missing. No one was looking for the two of us,” Odas chuckles. “Sometimes I think he had a hand in freeing us, but he’d never even been in the cells alone before, as far as I know. We haven’t spent time with him prior to the games, and you, though.”

“Last piece, and it’s a big one,” I warn before grabbing it and yanking it right out. He flinches, but then his entire body relaxes, and he sinks into the pillows behind him.

“Thank you,” Odas sighs, as I place a clean bandage over the wound.

“Try not to make this a habit, I was really worried I was going to make it worse,” I huff, flopping onto my ass.

Odas doesn’t let me get comfortable, though. He grabs my wrist, and tugs until I’m pulled on top of him, and we’re chest to chest. I’m kneeling with my legs between his, all my weight on him.

“Your wound!” I yelp, but Odas shakes his head, refusing to loosen his hold.

“Cato’s about to go a little bit crazy. Take it easy on him tonight,” Odas whispers into my ear, making me frown, but I don’t have long to think about what he’s said, because he bites my earlobe. I go limp against him, making him chuckle. Apparently, that’s still my reset button.

That’s when Cato jumps to his feet and starts grabbing the rug.

“Get him up, hurry,” Cato demands as he starts dragging the rug away before either of us is even up yet. “What’s all bloody, but can’t bleed?” Cato says, sounding like a storybook character.

“Uh…” I frown, as I help Odas sit up in front of the fire.

“Don’t bother. He’s not looking for an answer. His Dragon is close to the surface. See his eyes?” Odas points to his friend, and my eyebrows shoot up when I see his reptilian eyes glowing like amber.

“Oh, shit,” I mumble, and Odas chuckles.

“He’s also going to make us strip out of the clothes with blood on them, so he can wash them, and then he’s going to build a nest. He’ll probably re-gift you some of your stuff, and possibly some of my stuff.” Odas looks down at me since I’m sitting beside him and I nod like I understand, but I truly don’t.

“Alrighty then,” I say with a shrug, prepared to roll with the chaos.