The last caused everyone to glide back like fish to a shark.
Dig Graves.
He strode like a stalking wolf in his procession. Wide shoulders back, his legs precise in each calculated step.
My breath held as I saw him so clear and visible in the light, a mirror image to himself seven years ago when he had crawled into my bedroom with a blade.
He wore the same attire.
Dark jeans, a black t-shirt that showed the definition of muscle across his chest and a leather jacket with a hood pulled up over his head. His face was hidden in the shadows of the hood, and he kept his head down, showing a hint of a perfect sloped nose and pink lips.
And sunglasses.
Oh, freckle me.
Red, heart-shaped sunglasses.
He looked up, searching, a flick of black hair fell across his cheek.
I sunk into the crowd.
Though I hid well behind a bundle of people and he had not seen me, he faced in my direction, glaring as if he knew I was there.
The officers organised people into groups of who would travel together and be assigned in the arena in the same starting place. Since there were hundreds of Soulless from three different prisons, they did not all begin in thesame area of the arena. Instead, a dozen at a time were dropped off in different starting points.
It seemed the officers were breaking up the factions and it became very apparent that those they were forcing together were people who had disputes with each other. Two inmates who had a skirmish just yesterday were forced into the same group.
My brother had told me this was routine. By placing personal enemies together, the Execution Battle started off with an incredibly entertaining bloodbath.
An officer called my name, and I strode to him smiling. His job would be particularly difficult. It did not matter who I was placed with. Everyone hated me for certain reasons without a personal grudge, there was no one, absolutely no one who—
“Freckles!” I jolted as he rammed me to stand next to Dig Graves.
9
Don’t look at the sunglasses.
Don’t look at the sunglasses.
Don’t look at the sunglasses.
“Princess.” He leaned his head down, his breath curled across my neck. “I’ve missed you.”
“Is someone speaking to me?” I looked up at the rows of cells. “Hm. No. I can’t hear anything at all.”
“You smell like strawberries.”
That was my Lancôme lotion.
Dig sneezed and then sneezed a second time. “Fuck.” He shook his head and looked around. “Is there a cat in here?”
“No.”
He inhaled.
“Excuse me!” I waved to an officer successfully gathering his attention. “I require a different group.”
The officer pulled out his baton in case I made trouble. “Nah.”
