Vengeance (The Prince's Games Book 1) by Rebecca Grey (electric book reader TXT) 📕

vision, pulling my legs up to my chest the moment my feet leave the ground. Air whooshes by me as the arrow is thrown and absorbed into the opposite wall. It doesn't so much as slow the creeping crawl of the snakes.

In the small dirt platform, I let my feet only barely touch as I take the entire space of it to hurdle over it and push off of its very edge. The next arrow comes at my waist, so I push off with more effort to make sure I get the height I need to go over.

In all honesty, this reminds me of the training drills Arron used to have me do to help me practice before I began jumping from roof to roof. It feels familiar and easy.

That's my mistake. Funny thing about mistakes, actually not fun at all, is when you start making them, you can't seem to stop. Not that I was ever perfect before, but fuck I was better than this. At the next jump where I'll be leaping over the last of the other team the arrow shoots high. I'm too high.

I've judged the force to which the arrows are being shot out with too much grace as well. I realize it when the tip of an arrow slices against my ribcage and knocks me from the air.

Pain travels through my body all the way down to my feet as I slam against the ground. The taste of mud fills my mouth. I lift my head, staring at the Werewolf standing next to me. I stand up, not caring enough to wipe the mud from my face.

The girl across from me, frozen in the mud pit as her feet sink into the ground, holds her breath. Dark brown hair curls out from under her shirt sleeves on her wrist and her hand. The hair on her head is bound in multiple ponytails, each as thick as the last.

I stand and she leans away, eyeing me up then down. Her gaze travels to the wound on my side where my shirt has been torn clean open and the skin peels away from the cut. An ache blooms against my side.

"Will you ever not let your pride get in the way of your safety? How you've lived this long is beyond me." Juilliard lays flat on his stomach, reaching down for me.

“What about, ‘Are you okay, Nilsa?’ ‘You’re doing great Nilsa.’ No?” I sigh.

He's higher up than I realize, the pit deeper than I originally expected, even after peeking down into them. I stretch an arm up for him wincing, but my fingers don't even brush his. The werewolf watches me as I try to jump, but the sticky mud below holds me in place like cement.

"What the fuck?" I gasp.

"What?" Juilliard's eyes grow wide and he slides a little farther down, reaching as Finnegan and Sloane hold his legs in place.

"The mud. It's not mud. It's...It's some sort of adhesive." I examine my feet. One foot clad in my boot, the other in a damp sock. Lifting a leg slowly the mud lets go, but when I put my momentum into a jump up it locks down.

In slow deliberate movements the wolf is at my side. I twist away, throwing up my hands, ready to land a punch at her jaw if I must. I pant as the pain in my shoulder pulses with the movement.

"We are wasting time here." She looks up at her team, some of which look as if they are ready to leave her behind, then interlocks her fingers whispering so low I hardly hear her. "I'll help you up if you give me your shoe."

"What are you going to do with my shoe?" I can't hardly trust my own team, can I trust her?

“Just act as if you’ve lost it on your way up so I can use it and not lose face with my team.”

I give her the slightest bob of my head and she doesn't miss it. She has to trust me as much as I trust her. Clutching her fingers, she squats. I bend, loosening the laces of my boot. Lifting my first foot, with the now brown sock, I put my weight into her hand. She holds me easily.

Juilliard's arm is firm. I grab his forearm and he grabs mine. He lets out a long breath looking down at me and a smile spreads over his lips. I start to smile back but when the wolf lifts me further and Juilliard pulls me up, I groan in pain. The boot falls under me.

The Elf hooks his arms under me, hoisting me up. I roll out his arms the moment my shins hit the ground. Marcello moves, standing over me.

"Looks like that hurts," he points.

"Yeah and it won't heal as quickly as yours. You seem like you're already much better."

"I won't be later when Juilliard has to fix the rib for healing wrong." He turns, watching the wolf make the leap to our level. "Smart girl. She used your boot to jump off."

Her and the team give us only the smallest second look before they start sprinting off into the maze again. I force myself up. Hedda, Finnigan and Sloane turn to head down the rest of the maze. I wave them forward, knowing that both Juilliard and Marcello will stare at me like idiots until I acknowledge that I'm okay to move forward.

“We’ll get you new boots,” Marcello adds with certainty.

My second pair in the span of a week, I think. It's nothing to Marcello, but for me it's like I'm suddenly drowning in some new found wealth with unlimited boots at my disposal.

"Will you bleed out too much before we can reach the end?" Hedda calls from ahead. We take a turn, making sure to stay out of