Zephyra's POV
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
I kept repeating those words like a prayer, even though the gods, if they ever existed, had never done anything for me, but right now, it was all I had. That, and the stubborn hope that maybe, maybe, Astraea would show up.
I had no number, no way to call her, and no clue where she even lived. She'd simply told me she'd come, and now, here I was, standing just outside the ring, trying to pretend like the sweat on my palms was just from the heat and not from the overwhelming sense that I was walking into my own funeral.
My opponent tonight was Rina. The undefeated beast with arms like steel and a mean streak the size of the ocean. I wasn't entirely sure what had possessed me to agree to this fight; it wasn't like I had a choice, but it was too late to back out now.
The crowd was already buzzing, beer and bloodlust mixing in the air like smoke. The arena lights were hot, and the floor beneath my boots felt both too solid and somehow not real at all.
I was zoning out again, something I really couldn't afford to do right now, when the worst voice imaginable slithered into my ears.
"Well, well, well, look who's playing tough tonight."
I turned, already knowing who it was before I even saw his face.
Marlo.
That stupid, smug grin was stretched wide across his ugly mug like he'd just won the lottery. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, and the stench of cheap cologne and old cigars rolled off him like a wave.
"You ready to fight, princess?" he asked with mock enthusiasm, hands in his pockets like he owned the place, which, technically, he did. "For once, I'd like to see you win, you know? Make the people bet on you again and actually pay off a bit of your debt. Maybe make me believe in you for a change."
I rolled my eyes and folded my arms. "Spare me the fake pep talk, Marlo. We both know you'd hate to see me win."
His grin twisted into something uglier. "Don't be like that. I'm rooting for you. You losing just makes me look bad at this point."
"I doubt your reputation's that fragile."
He clicked his tongue. "You've got a fight tonight, Zephyra. Real fight, but just remember…" He leaned in closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "If you keep racking up losses and still don't pay me, we're going to have to revisit my earlier suggestion."
I clenched my jaw.
"You remember, right?" he went on with a glint in his eye that made my skin crawl. "Hooker? It's real easy money. Men will pay good money for a scrappy little thing like you. Hell, I can get you started tonight if you lose again."
I took a slow, deep breath, so deep that my lungs ached, because if I didn't, I'd punch him in the throat before the fight even started and give him exactly what he wanted: an excuse to destroy me.
"Get out of my face, Marlo," I said, my voice low and even.
He chuckled, finally pulling back. "Don't take too long in there, sweetie. Rina's not exactly the patient type."
He walked away then, his laughter following him like a shadow, and I wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and vanish.
I hated this, all of it.
The fights, the blood, the debt, and the way everyone in this place looked at me like I was just another broken girl trying to play tough in a world that ate girls like me for breakfast.
But most of all, I hated that I didn't feel strong, not even close.
My fists were bruised, my knees ached, my body was tired, and I hadn't even stepped into the ring yet.
"Zephyra!"
One of the staff called my name, waving for me to get ready.
I nodded numbly and stepped toward the gate, my boots feeling heavier with every step. I looked out at the crowd again, scanning faces I didn't recognize, hoping for one that stood out.
No sign of Astraea.
Maybe she had forgotten. Maybe she'd changed her mind, or maybe she didn't care after all.
I tried not to let that thought sting as much as it did.
I reached the ring and climbed the steps slowly, pulling off my jacket and tossing it to the side. My tank top stuck to my back, and my fingers twitched slightly as I stepped inside. Across from me, Rina cracked her neck like she was preparing to snap mine with the same ease.
The announcer's voice echoed through the mic, but I barely registered the words. My heart was pounding too loudly in my ears. My thoughts were a mess of fear and silent prayers that I refused to speak out loud.
I remembered what Astraea had said the other day about how she'd like to see how far gone I was since I was now her student.
She'd said that like it meant something, like I could really be more than just some washed-up background noise in this world.
I held onto that, clung to it even, because it was the only thing I had to believe in.
As the bell rang and Rina stepped forward with that confident, merciless swagger, I raised my fists.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Rina was approaching me like a predator closing in on prey. Every step she took oozed power and confidence, but I wasn't going down without trying.
I adjusted my stance, bouncing lightly on the balls of my feet, trying to keep my breathing steady. I knew I didn't have the size or the strength to match her blow for blow. What I needed, desperately, was a weakness. An opening, a misstep, anything!
Come on, just one punch. That's all I want.
Rina smirked, like she could hear my thoughts, and then lunged.
I panicked, but somehow, by instinct or luck, I ducked out of the way just in time, feeling the sharp whoosh of air as her arm flew past my head. My heart leapt, and for a second, I thought, Yes, maybe I have a shot.
Fueled by a spark of adrenaline, I moved quickly, aiming for her legs. If I could just get her on the ground, maybe I could level the playing field. Rina was taller and heavier, and her punches were deadly, but maybe, just maybe, if I could bring her down—
"Not today," she growled.
I barely saw the kick coming before it slammed into the side of my face.
Pain exploded across my cheek, my jaw screaming as I hit the mat with a dull thud. My ears rang, and I tried to roll away, but she was already on me.
Blow after blow rained down on my ribs, my arms, and my face again.
I don't know how long it lasted. It could've been seconds, but it felt like hours.
I tasted blood in my mouth and felt the warm trickle from my nose as my vision swam. I couldn't see out of one eye, and I knew without a doubt that my face looked a mess. The jeers from the crowd blurred together, but the words were clear enough to cut through the pain.
"Useless."
"She never wins."
"Should've stayed home."
I suddenly wanted Astraea to be nowhere near here.
Please let her have stayed home. Please let her have changed her mind. The last thing I wanted was for her to see me like this, pathetic, humiliated, and lying on the ground like I didn't belong here.
The referee finally pulled Rina off, and I crumpled backward, every bone in my body aching, my lungs burning. The ringing in my ears got louder, swallowing the noise of the crowd until I could barely make out anything.
But then—
Like a whisper cutting through fog.
"Get up, Zephyra."
The voice wasn't loud, it wasn't angry, and it wasn't even harsh. It was calm, and somehow inside me.
I blinked, my good eye trying to focus, and through the haze of blood and sweat and pain, I looked toward the crowd, and there she was.
Astraea.
Her face was unreadable. Cold, almost, but her eyes, those strange, unreadable, otherworldly eyes, were locked on mine, and I knew the voice had come from her. Somehow.
She was watching me, clearly waiting, and I didn't know if it was pride or shame or something in between, but suddenly, the pain didn't matter.
I pressed my palms to the mat and pushed myself up, slowly, unsteadily, my arms trembling and my legs weak. My whole body screamed at me to stay down, to stop, to just let it end, but I got up.
The boos kept coming, but they sounded distant now. My heartbeat roared in my ears like a war drum. I wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand, and when I looked at Rina, she didn't look amused anymore.
She looked… annoyed, maybe even a little surprised.
"Didn't get enough?" she asked, her lips curling into a smirk.
I didn't answer. I didn't have to. I just raised my fists again.
Something shifted in the crowd. The jeers paused for a second, replaced by a few curious murmurs.
I couldn't hear Astraea's voice again, but I didn't need to.
Her stare was enough.
My body hurt, my face was wrecked, and my odds were still nonexistent, but I was standing, and that had to count for something.