Maybe it was seeing her small shape, surrounded by a gang of disreputable thugs or knowing a travesty was about to take place and I knew it would haunt me if I walked on by and let it happen.
The fact we were in the middle of a riot affected my decision greatly. After all, violence was a way of life in a riot. I could easily deny I had any part in the ensuing fight and pretend the beat down had been committed by someone else.
Fayn was right. Who was going to believe a rank five-hundred brawler could beat four top-twenty fighters?
Sometimes being the worst could be an advantage.
“Have you known Kren long?” I asked.
Harper shrugged.
“Everyone knows who he is,” she said defensively.
There could be no doubt. It had to be her. Why else would she be in his room?
“Do you know what’s happening in this prison?” I said.
“Looks like a riot to me,” Harper said, eyes sparkling as she took another bite of chocolate.
“Really? I thought it was just a party.”
Harper giggled and kicked her feet.
“You know, you fight very well for someone ranked at five hundred.”
“I guess we do what we need to when our backs are to the wall.”
“But your back wasn’t to the wall. You could have left if you wanted to. You didn’t have to stay.”
It came back to that same question.
Why had I gotten involved?
“How long do you think this riot will last?” Harper said.
“There’s no telling. As long as it takes for the guards to rally. It shouldn’t take long. The warden will make sure of that. He’s not about to let a section of his prison slip through his fingers.”
“I suppose not.”
Harper yawned and the action took up her entire face.
“If you’re tired, you can sleep,” I said.
She shook her head.
“I’ll be fine.”
But already, her eyes were growing heavy. I knew it wouldn’t be long before she passed unconscious.
She wavered side to side for the next ten minutes, refusing to let herself fall asleep. Finally unable to take anymore, she leaned over and lay on the bedspread, what remained of the demolished chocolate still clutched in her hand.
I moved over, pulled the blankets back, and helped her slide into the bed.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Harper grumbled.
Outside, something exploded and a cheer went up, echoing up and down the hallways.
“I’ll keep an eye on the door,” I said.
“Then I’ll stay awake too.”
She made to rise but I pushed her back down. It wasn’t difficult and she succumbed easily.
“I wouldn’t sleep anyway,” I said, “so you might as well get some shuteye.”
She drifted off and within minutes, her breathing had slowed and grown heavy and hard.
She’d been through a lot. To think what those animals would have done to her if I hadn’t shown up…
It didn’t bear thinking about.
I returned to my corner and stared at the door. Every few seconds, I glanced over at Harper. So small, and yet, so strong.
She hadn’t panicked when the prisoners took it into their minds to rape her. They were big, powerful creatures, and there was no way she could stop them from taking what they wanted from her.
In this place, size and strength were the most important commodities, alongside speed and agility, of course. It didn’t really matter how smart you were, it only mattered how good you were in the pit.
She knew the best, and perhaps only, way to survive the ordeal was to let them do what they wanted with her and try to pick up the pieces afterward.
Harper tossed and turned in her sleep, struggling to remain relaxed. She was probably reliving what happened in the room earlier. The mind liked to process the events of the day and when they were unpleasant, you were forced to live through them over and over again.
I made light shushing noises and ran my fingers through her hair. She calmed, taking some comfort in my touch. She eased and her eyes fluttered open. She saw me crouched beside the bed, less than a yard from her.
She didn’t let out a cry or start back. Instead, she leaned forward and gently kissed the palm of my hand. Then she pulled back into the safety of the lumpy blanket.
My eyes turned misty and my breath grew heavy as I gazed upon this beautiful woman in my bed.
Harper’s eyes focused on mine as she leaned forward again and kissed my little finger.
Was she throwing down a challenge? Or offering herself up in supplication?
I thought it was a mixture between the two.
She moved to kiss my finger again, only this time, she took it in her mouth and gently tongued the fleshy part of my finger. Her lips wrapped around it as it took one segment after another inside her.
She looked at me again. This time, the challenge was clear.
I felt myself stiffen at how brazen she was.
Someone needs to teach her a lesson…
Footsteps approached the door at a run, then disappeared down the hallway. Somewhere, a shock rifle was fired and a man screamed in agony.
It did nothing to interrupt the tension we shared.
“Why are you doing this?” I said hoarsely.
“You’re the victor. You defeated your opponents. That means you’re entitled to your Prize. If you want me.”
If I wanted her?
It was taking every ounce of my self-restraint to keep myself from leaping into bed with her.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, my baser instincts yelling at me to shut up and not pass up this opportunity. “You don’t have to do this with me.”
“I know I don’t,” she said, and then looked up at me through her eyelashes. “I want to.”
It was all I needed to hear.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips against hers. They were soft—much softer than I expected. I pressed my palm to her cheek and tucked my fingers around her neck. I stroked the soft hair there.
I slipped my tongue along her lips, feeling her, tasting the Glacian chocolate still speckled around her lips. There
