C3 Xanth

Fight back. My little minx is letting the sleaze Bono pulverize her. She’s stronger than this. I know she is deep inside despite her slender, small frame.

Her teeth are bare and bloody. She’s stronger than this.

I can see it in the grey depths of her eyes, despite the pain she’s suffering. She’s relying on physical strength, which is useless against Bono. I want to shake her. Stop being so weak. Trust yourself! I thought she was smarter than this.

I stood on the edge of my seat, wanting to leap out of the crowd and intervene. I wanted to beat the snot out of Bono for drawing blood from my little minx. I couldn't help her or she wouldn’t rise from defeat unscathed.

Too much was at stake. She needed to prove herself and face this challenge head-on. She needed to be trained not destroyed by some punk-ass warrior god.

None of the other gods aren't helping me out, either. They love spending their boring days watching demi-gods battle.

Most of the time it entertained the hell out of me, but today I'm on the edge of my seat, wanting Shaye to beat the snot out of that ass.

My power lashes at me to end her suffering. But I can’t and I won’t. She must prove herself. Fight her own battles. Fight for life.

Too many are pathetic and weak, but I sense a greatness in her that I’ve never felt before.

Blood coats her face as she claws at Bono’s hands. But her attempts are feeble at best.

What is she waiting for?

I glance around me at the other gods egging on Bono. These fuckers love spending their boring days watching demi gods battle. Most of the time it entertains me, but today I’m on the edge of my seat, wanting my girl to beat the snot out of that ass. And if she doesn’t I might after the event.

None of them care if she dies. She’s a god-killer. And to them, that’s worse than the shit on the bottom of their shoes.

Bono shouts in triumph, lifting his face to the crowd.

Why isn’t she using her power? Her collar and cuffs should be turned down enough to defend herself. Yet she’s relying on physical strength. Mistake. I thought she was smarter than this.

Bile surges in my throat and I shove it down.

I crush the can of beer in my hand and the liquid shoots up into the air, then freezes.

What the fucking hell?

Gasps sound around me as everyone’s drink hovers in the air. Then at once, they slam forward, rushing down onto the stadium floor. Crushing into Bono.

The cans barrage into him, one after another, pummeling into him. He’s driven off Shaye and pushed into the cement wall from the sheer momentum.

Cracks puncture the concrete around him as he ducks more of the can attacks. The sounds of bones being crushed has me smirking. Now, this is a show I can watch.

For a few moments, every god and goddess around me sits stunned. I want to scream and whistle for my girl, but I dare not show any emotion. Doing so will get us both killed.

She stumbles away from Bono’s body which slumps off the wall and drops into a heap. My poor girl is gasping for air, holding her middle, staring incredulously at her handiwork.

I can’t stop smiling. She’s done it. Just as I knew she could.

I’m so turned on right now my cock is trying to punch through my pants.

The crowd explodes like a giant entity and boos. Calls for her death surge along the threads, weaving tighter until nearly all of them are chanting it.

"Kill her, kill the god-killer."

Stupid fools. She is fucking better than all of them. And all of me wants to be able to fight alongside her. Show these arrogant assholes what a real fight looks like. I’d love to train her myself; she has such huge potential.

Brilliant how she gathered up all the water around t—

Her body suddenly convulses, knees giving out and they hit the ground. The earlier sounds cease, while my heart bangs loudly in my chest as I watch, unsure what’s going on.

I scan the arena for a magic user, someone cursing her. Her cries have me jolting to my feet to rush to her side as no one else moves to aid her.

Streaks of lightning zap through the air like a lightning storm. Every light in the theater explodes and pops at once. Darkness suffocates us in seconds. Gods scream while some use their power to teleport the fuck out of here. Their power leaves behind faint light trails.

Fucking cowards. Come to watch others suffer, and yet run when it might involve them.

I use the darkness to rush down through the masses and over seats. The popping lights all around give me sufficient light to find my way to the wall barricading Shaye.

I shove people out of my way. Not caring who. Let them believe it was the panic making me crazy like every other moron here. As a guard, I’m not allowed to care or hell, even train her.

Telling myself I'm merely checking on my asset, my bet in the competition, I jump down the ten-foot cement wall. Magic pricks down my skin, and in seconds, cushions my landing.

Shaye is lying motionless on the arena floor. And something inside me buckles.