8 | Sacrifice

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8 | Sacrifice
A moment of pain is worth a lifetime of glory.

My heart is thumping inside my chest as if it's a volcano about to explode. I can feel the lava burning its way through my soul, creating a scorching hole where my heart should be. My stomach is blazing with the inferno of butterflies, and my lungs feel as though they're breathing in fire every time I dare to take a breath. Every movement hurts, and no matter how many times I tell myself it's ok, Alaska, it's ok, reality comes crashing down on me.

I nervously gulp, but even that feels painful as my throat refuses to swallow. I had never felt like this before, perhaps because this time I knew that this was the end. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. This was it.

I tremble as I stand waiting below the arena. Last night had shaken me much more than it should ever effect a teenager. Every time I blinked, an image of the king tumbling to the ground flashed before me, and it stung. Why I was reacting in such a way, I didn't know. Maybe it reminded me of my parents' deaths.

Since the king had died, the guards and the kingdom's army had been able to hold the rogues off long enough to get us to the arena. The rogue attack had slowly ebbed away, leaving few rebels, but it was still enough to threaten the city. Whatever the beasts were planning, they were holding off their attack for the time being, as if they were allowing us to choose a new ruler.

God, how have I even got this far? What did he have planned for me?

"Choose your weapon," a gritty voice demands. It took me a few seconds to realise that the sound had echoed from behind me, produced by a larger, more rounded guard who looked out of shape compared to the others.

I glance at the selection before me. Both Chase and I were staring at a weapons cupboard laid neatly with newer and shinier weapons. Some tiny part of my mind wondered whether they were specially laid out, cleaned, and sharpened for the task ahead of us.

My hands graze over the sword I had been given last night. I still had it because some part of me never wanted to let go. I had been given it as a gift, and although I despised the deceased King, I couldn't help but like him too. He had shown me respect, which was more than I deserved.

I pat the sword at my side and turn so sharply on my heel that I almost lose my balance. I quickly skitter my feet into a safer position, bringing my hands firmly by my side. My aim was to try and not make a fool out of myself, yet here I was undermining my goal.

"I'm sorted," I state, unsheathing the beautiful sword from its covering. It was clear to see that this sword had been crafted for royalty - and who knew, I might be the next Alpha Queen.

But the truth was that today I had to make a decision: Alpha Queen or death? Lead a kingdom and numerous packs, or chose the easy option out of this hell hole? It was my choice, and it was one that I could not make. Perhaps I would never have to make it.

Chase follows my lead and takes a sword from the rack, choosing the same weapon, perhaps to make the fight fairer. Or maybe it was just because it was his preferred weapon.

Chase curtly nods at our escort before the wide man nods himself. Despite his larger shape, he moved surprisingly quickly and I found it hard to keep up as we paraded through the deserted catacombs below the arena. With no competition left, the place was so quiet, you would be able to hear a pin drop from the other side of the corridor.

Our footsteps are the only noise as we continue to stalk the hallways like ghosts. One of us would soon be, anyway, left to haunt these forsaken walls and corridors for the rest of eternity, confined within the kingdom as if it was an impenetrable fortress.

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