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CHAPTER 4

AMY PIERCE

Furthermore, I bite my lips when I feel the temperature of his body. I nodded, seeing his eyes fixed on my lips at that moment.

I blink my eyes before stepping back, but I stop and turn to look at him, seeing the golden cape on his shoulders flying in the air with the wind.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?", I ask, and he shakes his head.

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough.", he says, and I become more confused.

I walk through the forest, thinking about the unknown wolf I saw. I turn my head back once again, seeing that he has completely disappeared now.

Furthermore, I need to stay calm.

I close my eyes for a few seconds when I'm sitting in the castle's training room with all the other 11 people who will fight with me in the competition.

I open my eyes, looking to the side, and see that some people are staring at me at the moment. We are all here to showcase our skills before the first challenges of the competition.

I feel very uncomfortable and look at my own body, seeing that I'm wearing a very tight outfit in black and red tones while my hair is tied up.

Each participant is wearing a different colored outfit, and I realize I'm the only one wearing red and black.

At some point, all the members of the kingdom's monarchy will be here to meet us and watch us demonstrate our skills.

At this moment, I think of my mother and how difficult it was to leave home this morning, hearing her begging me to stay when the vampire guards came to get me.

I blink my eyes quickly because I can't cry here and now.

All these people are participating in this game to win freedom and gain the king's attention.

Sitting in the castle's training room, the weight of the deadly competition is present around me. Threatening glances from other participants cut through the air, marking each of us as enemies in a battle for freedom. The atmosphere is tense, a mixture of anxiety and hostility, as we await the start of the presentations.

The room echoes with tense murmurs and veiled whispers, conveying the intensity of the moment. Everyone here is an adversary, each seeking the victory that will mean coveted freedom in a world dominated by supernatural beings.

My eyes sweep across the room, capturing glances that intertwine with mine, like shadows lurking at the edges of light. The presentation begins with a parade of varied skills and abilities. Each participant leaves their mark, a reminder that despite the connection we share as prisoners, we are competitors in this desperate struggle for emancipation. Time drags on as I observe, aware that my turn is approaching.

Finally, the moment arrives when I am called to present myself. I rise from the chair, following a vampire guard who leads me into the training room. My hands tremble, and my mind echoes with my father's teachings on weapons and hand-to-hand combat. I chose this modality, a choice that reveals itself as an inheritance I carry.

Entering the training room, I encounter a diverse collection of weapons, each representing a unique challenge. Nervousness grows as I examine the arsenal before me. Daggers, swords, and spears—an array of options. The metallic scent permeates the air, a promise of imminent conflict. The room is a simulated battlefield, a territory where every move will be judged.

I lift my head, realizing that I am being observed by vampires and wolves of the monarchy through a glass at the top of the room. Their gaze is penetrating—a critical assessment of each participant, a glimpse of the audience that will decide our fate.

I decide to start and choose two large daggers, feeling their weight in my hands. I walk to the center of the room, a deliberate choice symbolizing my readiness for the challenge ahead. Silence takes over the room as all eyes focus on me.

My heart beats irregularly, but I take a deep breath, absorbing the tension in the air. The competition is fierce, and the desire for freedom is the fuel burning within all of us. Seconds feel like hours as I await the signal to begin.

Without warning, I initiated my movement. The daggers cut through the air in precise motions, an extension of the tireless training I received from my father. The room becomes a chaotic dance of blades and agile movements, a display of skills cultivated in secret in the hope of breaking the chains that bind us.

The eyes on the glass intensify, and expectations rise. Every step, every strike, is a silent declaration of my determination. Adversity manifests in impassive faces, and the metallic sound of the daggers resonates in the confined space of the training room.

I stop my movements when I see a vampire wearing white clothes and a kind of helmet on his head entering the room to fight with me and help me demonstrate my skills to the monarchy's wolves and vampires.

I have never fought a vampire, but I know he won't use supernatural powers because he is fighting a human. The training room is immersed in expectation as we position ourselves, daggers gleaming in the subtle light of the environment. The vampire is an agile presence, moving with the dexterity that only vampires possess. As if they were a natural extension of his hands, the daggers danced in the air before he positioned himself for the start of the demonstration.

Without warning, the dagger dance begins. The room is filled with the fast and precise music of the movements. I, moving in sync with the vampire, reveal the skill I acquired over years of training. The daggers cut through space, dodging and attacking, creating a spectacle of agility and coordination.

The audience watches in silence, the monarchy's eyes fixed on our demonstration. Each movement is an expression of skill and mastery, a lethal art that transcends physical barriers. The flashes of the daggers reflect the determination and strength within me.

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