Brynleigh’s breaths were labored, pressure was building in her head, and her heart was beating so fast she was worried it might explode.
For every strike she’d achieved, the Champion hit her back twice as hard.
Despite her resolve to win, Brynleigh’s limbs were dragging. Even lacking Isvana’s blessings, the Death Elf was almost as fast as her.
He ran across the stage, a war cry echoing through the warehouse as he raised his fist.
Brynleigh leaped out of the way, barely avoiding his punch. Drawing shadows from her palms, she sent them slamming into the back of his legs.
He barely trembled at the impact.
The crowdroaredas Brynleigh hurried to put space between her and her opponent. Every noise the audience made was tingedwith violence. They were rooting for the Champion to take Brynleigh down.
In their defense, she was the clear underdog.
The Death Elf hadn’t even broken a sweat. Even now, as he danced on the other end of the stage, he looked like he was taking a walk in the park. A bloody walk, but still, a walk.
Not Brynleigh.
Standing upright took far more effort than it should have as she gathered shadows in her palms. She had begun this fight on the defensive, and she’d been there ever since.
She couldn’t win like this.
Every part of her hurt, and even though she was still firmly in control, this needed to end.
Brynleigh looked down, glimpsing Jelisette at the base of the stage. A reminder of her purpose.
The Crimson Shade moved to the right. Brynleigh took a few steps to the left, maintaining the space between them.
He lunged; she ducked. He kicked; she rolled away.
The crowd’s bloodthirsty chants continued in the background.
“Finish her!”
“Champion! Champion! Champion!”
“Knock that vampire out!”
Darkness glinted in the Death Elf’s eyes, and Brynleigh swallowed. She knew that look. He was done playing and meant to finish her off.
The Champion’s fists curled again, but instead of lunging towards her, he drew red ribbons into his palms.
“Crimson Shade! Crimson Shade!” the crowd chanted frantically.
Brynleigh reached within herself and frowned. Her shadows were still present, but she was weakening. She was still a fairly young vampire, and it hadn’t been that long since she’d been being tortured daily.
No fangs, no wings.
The rules seemed unfairly biased against her, especially as theChampion twisted his fingers and formed a long, barbed whip out of his crimson magic.
He snapped the whip in the air, and before Brynleigh could move, the tail end slashed across her cheek.
Sharp pain bloomed in her face, and she hissed.
Behind the Champion, Jelisette’s black eyes gleamed in the darkness.Put an end to this,she seemed to say.
Closing her eyes briefly, Brynleigh drew in a deep breath. She could do this. Even tired, she was still a gods-damned powerful vampire.