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“Why do you do it?”
She growled under her breath, eagle eyes locked onto the armour stand before her. Imagining the faces of the ones who doubted her before.
“What do you have to prove?”
She was never meant to be a fighter. But the flames from her past burnt her far too much for her to just take it in stride. Unfair, unkind. The world had no care for someone like her, a fire in her eyes and a wicked smile gracing her foes as they fell. Blinking back the waters that threatened to put her out at the snarl from Scott, their soul link black and bruised over time with hatred.
“You’re a monster, a witch.”
A product of the ugliness that lay within all of them, shifty eyes waiting to see who would fall first. Platonic love so twisted it hurt each and every one of them, regardless of how blind they stayed to their own faults. Secrets digging deep within, displaying the flaws for all who chose to see.
No soulbound team was perfect. And that was perfect for her.
With a yell, she struck down the armour stand, remembering how Scott and Cleo stood upon their shared bridge, laughter travelling far in the night. Remembered how he abandoned her without a care, slicing through their red string like it never mattered. Remembered kneeling in the dead of the woods, moonlight shining down her cheeks, ready to take them both out of the games.
Knew, then, that she would have proven them all right. That she was too weak to play the game.
Now, she knew better.
Bending down to pick up the pieces of frayed leather armour, she rubbed them carefully between her fingers, thinking. The perks of being feared meant she was left alone, and she would use that to her advantage. She knew of Grian and Big B’s secret, and their soulmate’s anger. Knew of the recklessness that Joel had when he was desperate, easy to manipulate. Knew that Martyn and Cleo were also weak from their split, unwilling to protect each other.
She knew, if she played her cards right, she could bring Scott to the end of the games, and show him what he did to her. Maybe even let him watch as she killed Cleo before him, to really prove her point.
She could win the games, by her own strength. And then, who would dare to doubt her again?
With a sharp grin, she turned away from the broken stand, cloak billowing out behind her as she walked back towards her tower. It was lonely there, sure, but she was well protected there, especially with her hounds guarding the area. In the tower, she would be safe to ponder over her schemes, to form her next plan of reminding Scott exactly what he missed.
They thought she would be weak?
She would show them what true weakness was, with a mirror and a smile.
“Why are you so afraid of a woman in charge?”