The pounding pain from her broken nose snapped Eliana out of the strange moment with Dane. She quickly looked away and tried to compose herself. Damn it—why does everyone here have to look so good? And why did she feel butterflies in her stomach? None of them wanted anything from her except maybe her death.
"It's none of your business what I do or how I fight," she said coldly, bringing her good hand up to her nose, which he had just reset.
Dane caught her wrist before she could touch it. "Stop being so stubborn. Do you want to die before you even try? Do we have to threaten you even more? I can gladly have your family brought here and tortured if that's what you need for motivation."
He hissed the words into her face, and she froze. His sudden anger confused her. Why did he care whether she fought or survived? But then he mentioned her family—and that sent a surge of helpless rage through her.
"Leave my family out of it! I didn't want to be here! Just let me die so I can finally be free!" she screamed.
Without warning, Dane grabbed her broken arm and reset it in one smooth, brutal motion. A scream tore from her throat as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"You want to escape this place? Hate us? Hate this academy? Then fight. Get stronger. Kick all our asses instead of whining and wishing for death, you stubborn, stupid girl!" he snapped.
Eliana glared at him, filled with fury, hopelessness, and raw pain—but somehow, his words struck a nerve. Kick their asses, huh? That didn't sound too bad. If she could just throw Keith onto the mat once, or sink a knife into Damon's smug face. If she could kill all of them. That's what they were teaching her here, right? How to kill. How to be the strongest.
Before she could dwell on it, Dane injected her with SHM again, the substance that accelerated healing. Her world faded into darkness.
When she woke up, Dane was gone. A bucket of water and a note sat beside the bed. She blinked and reached for it.
Don't forget to clean your vomit off the ground or I'm going to break your arm again for you.
She scowled at the note but tested her arm. It didn't hurt. It felt like it had never been broken. Begrudgingly, she grabbed the bucket and started cleaning the dried vomit, all while Dane's words replayed in her mind.
She had felt broken after they "perfected" her appearance—how they phrase it. But maybe Dane was right. For two months, she had just scraped by, doing the bare minimum to avoid punishment and death. But what if she actually tried?
The thought of throwing Keith to the mat sent a jolt of euphoria through her.
With a flicker of hope reignited, she left the infirmary—and as if summoned by her thoughts, she ran right into Keith in the hallway.
He grinned the moment he saw her. "Ah, I see Dane fixed your arm and nose. Hm, but the nose looks a little crooked. Someone needs another appointment at the beauty spa," he said, flicking her nose.
She didn't find it funny. Not even a little.
"You broke my arm and nose today," she said evenly, glaring up at him. She didn't know if it was still the same day or how long she slept after the injection of SHM but that didn't matter right now.
He chuckled and tapped her nose again, still not taking her seriously. "I know. Cobra even nodded at me for it. It was perfect—hilarious, really, how you passed out on the mat. Are you mad about a couple broken bones? You act like it wasn't healed in a few hours."
But as she continued to glare at him unmoved, his smile started to fade.
"You went too far," she said. "I agreed to be your combat partner because you said you wouldn't be as brutal as the others. But today, you went too far."
Her hands were clammy, her face hot with nerves. But she held her ground. Why did she feel so nervous and scared? Why couldn't she be more confident?
"And what do you want now? For me to go easy on you? I'm not going to baby you. Just deal with it and don't cry," he snapped.
She realized this wouldn't go anywhere unless she pushed. Tristan's words from the other night echoed in her head.
"I don't want you to baby me. But I don't want you to break every bone in my body either. I thought you started the academy at the same time with me—but you're already too good. And I heard you've had plenty of other combat partners before me. What happened to them?"
That made him freeze.
His face twisted into anger before he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall, the air rushing out of her lungs.
"Who told you that?" he hissed. Then, as if realizing something, he shook his head. "No. Doesn't matter. What matters is that you be a good girl and stop poking around. You'll keep getting your ass kicked so I can look good. Then nothing will happen to you. Understand?"
His face was inches from hers, breath hot on her skin, his voice a low growl.
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
They were alone in the hallway. He could kill her right now and no now one would notice.
His grip tightened around her throat which made her nod quickly.
He patted her head like she was a dog. "Good girl. Behave, and we'll get along."
Then, without warning, he kissed her again—roughly—and groped her breast before leaving her stunned in the hallway.
She stood frozen, too shocked to move. What the actual fuck was that?
Why did he always kiss her? It never felt like he was interested in her—not in that way. But this was the second time now, and she hated it.
She could still feel his lips on hers, his hand around her throat. Maybe this was just another way for him to show how much control he had over her.
Something was seriously wrong with Keith.
One thing was clear, she had to be very, very careful around him from now on.