Riot (Scarred Souls 4)

Master cracked the whip at his side, my body jumping at the action. He smiled again at my reaction and moved around the posts to stand directly behind me.

I closed my eyes, feeling his warm breath as he kissed the side of my neck. “You held such promise. I thought I had picked well.” He tutted, then added, “But I was wrong. Your pretty face lured me in, and every other man in this pit.” Master kissed me again, and I wanted to throw up. His touch was like poison to me now. There was only Ilya who had me.

“You were my delicate flower, 152. My petal. And just like a petal, you will wither when ripped apart.”

My eyes opened. He stepped back. Three footsteps sounded on the stone floor. I heard the crack of the whip and braced for the punishment for my defiance.

“Just a few lashes,” Master said flatly. My breathing came fast as I prepared for the pain. “You seem to have a thing for scarred mutants. So let’s make you into one, hmm?”

It was several strained minutes before the first strip sliced along my back. But as the pain ripped through my flesh and the screams tore from my throat, I pictured Ilya in my mind.

I would die here in this room.

He would die in the final in the pit.

But I smiled as another strip hit, because we would each pass knowing the other’s name.

We would find each other again.

In whatever life came next.

14

ILYA

The room was covered in red as the mist of rage descended over my eyes. The guards struck, one after the other, the charge from their picanas singeing my skin. But I didn’t stop. I swung and lashed out. The guards tried to stop me, but every crush of bone or spill of blood only fueled me more.

My wounds from the fight were forgotten as I replayed Inessa being ripped from my cell by her hair. I had seen the look in Master’s face. He was going to hurt her.

He was going to kill her.

A loud roar spilled from my mouth, and I grabbed the nearest guard by his neck, lifting him clean off the floor. The others struck me with their picanas, bringing me to my knees. But I took the guard with me, using the last of my strength to slam him to the ground. The guard’s spine cracked on the hard floor, eyes rolling back in his head as his life drained from his body.

Shaking my head from the aftereffects of the electrical charge, I didn’t see the blow coming to the back of my head. I fought to keep awake, until my vision faded and I blacked out.

The next thing I knew, I woke with blistering pain throbbing throughout my skull. I forced my heavy eyes to open, my vision clearing to show me the wall of my cell. I frowned, unable to remember what had happened, when I suddenly remembered someone being dragged from my cell … Inessa!

“Inessa…” I growled low, my throat dry and sore.

Pushing off the floor, I staggered to my feet. The cell seemed to tip, and I fell against the wall. I focused on the cell door. Forcing myself to push forward, my hands felt along the wall, my muscles screaming for me to stop.

I ignored my aching body and wrapped my hands around the cell bars to keep upright. A guard stood on the opposite side of the champions’ quarters, his gun raised and aimed at my head.

I didn’t care.

“Let me out,” I snarled. He shook his head, rocking nervously on his feet.

I could hear the distant sound of the crowd and knew I had slept long enough that the tournament had started. I was due to fight today if I wanted to get to the final. I squeezed my eyes shut when another harsh throb pounded my temples.

Incensed at the thought of where Inessa was, at what Master had been doing to her, I shook the cell doors. “Let me the fuck out!” I screamed.

The guard paled but otherwise didn’t move.

I broke.

Bellow after bellow left my mouth. Even low on energy, I shook the bars until chips of stone began to break away above. I didn’t stop. I kept going and going, until I saw another Wraith, one unfamiliar to this cell, put his hand on the other guard’s shoulder.

“Go,” he ordered. “I’ve been sent to cover these quarters. You are to go to the pit.”

The guard that I had been screaming at relaxed. “Thank Christ!” he said in relief, and nodded his head toward me. “He’s insane. Master took his slut. He’s just woken up and he’s pissed.” The other guard looked my way and nodded.

The previous guard left, and I began where I had left off. I shook the bars of the cell. “Inessa! Inessa. GET ME THE FUCK TO INESSA!” I screamed relentlessly. The sound of footsteps approached, and I raised my voice as loud as I could. The bars creaked under the pressure of my strength.

The guard before me didn’t show any emotion. Suddenly, people moved before me, and I growled louder seeing it was the fighters from the pit. The blond was in the lead, led by their short trainer. The long-haired Georgian followed behind, and the scarred Russian took up the rear.

They were dripping with sweat and coated in blood. Each held his weapons in his hands. They had been fighting today. I understood why they were here—they had made the final.

I had to make the final. It was my only way to him.

“Let me out!” I boomed out to the guard. The males stopped to watch me. 194 glared at me through the bars, and I saw scars on his face. My stomach lurched when I thought of Inessa and how she had said she dreamed of someone with scars. How this fighter reminded her of the male in her head.

I physically shook with rage and I roared, “Inessa! GET ME TO INESSA!”

The males that had commenced walking to their cells suddenly turned to stare at me. I noticed them from the corner of my eye, then looked at the guard. “Inessa! INESSA!”

I saw the males muttering to one another. When I screamed for Inessa again, 194 suddenly ran to my cell door and stared me down. “Who are you calling for, hui?”

My muscles tensed and my neck ached in his presence. He had called me a dick in Russian.

“Get out of my way,” I warned.

He laughed coldly but lost that laugh when I screamed, “Inessa!”

At the call of Inessa’s name, he slammed his hands against the cell, rocking the loosening metal. “I said why are you calling for her?”

I gritted my teeth, then noticed that the new guard wasn’t doing anything to stop this piece of shit. He was watching the hallway like he was making sure no one was approaching.

194 slammed his hands against the cell door again. “Answer me, fucker! Or I’ll tear your arms from their sockets right here, right now!”

Rage took hold. I was about to strike out when the blond Russian called, “Valentin, calm the hell down!”

My fist, which had been raised, ready to strike this asshole through the bars, stilled. My eyes collided with his … blue eyes … blue eyes the exact color of …

“Inessa,” I whispered, and my heart began pounding too hard and too fast. 194 flinched like I had gone through with the threatened punch. Instead, I lowered my hand and dropped it to my side.

My eyes found the guard again. He was still not reacting. I watched as the trainer walked over to him and whispered something in his ear. The guard nodded. Heat rushed through my veins when the guard smiled back.

He was with them? A Wraith was under their command?

“Why did you say her name? That name?” I stared at 194’s heavily scarred face and shorn black hair as he hissed out his harsh question.

“Valentin?” I questioned, but the male didn’t react.

I met the blond Russian’s eyes. “His name is Valentin?”

He folded his muscled arms over his chest. “Why? Why do you want to know?”

It was … it couldn’t be …

Valentin pushed his broad chest against the bars and hissed, “Tell me why you said her name? Don’t, and I’ll kill you.” He pointed to the guard. “He’s with us and won’t stop me from slaughtering you slowly, painfully, until you’ve been stripped of your flesh.”

The blond pressed his hand on Valentin’s shoulder and then looked at me. “Answer him. He’ll do what he promises. And I won’t stop him if you don’t speak.”

I walked back to the bars. The long-haired Georgian moved closer, extra protection for the two males already confronting me.

I met Valentin’s eyes and asked, “You are Valentin Belrov?”