BLIND MASSES.

“You can’t still be mad,” Ryder whines, hurrying to catch up with me, for once.

Ignoring him, I continue with my match to the main hall where most of our trials were going to take place.

“Drac, chill,” He calls again.

The name had me pausing, an acute pain going through my body. Ax called me that, Ax who was with my little boy, and the rest of the people I had weirdly begun to think of as friends, maybe even family if time allowed; they had seemed like a nice enough bunch.

My scowl intensifies as I turn to Ryder.

“What? What did I say?” he asks nervously taking a few steps back.

“You made me remember,” I answer before resuming my match without giving him a chance to respond and I almost end up face-first on the floor thanks to another pair of heels.

“Stupid heels and stupid dress and STUPID FUCKING TRIALS! Who the hell holds a competition to find a mate? Isn’t that supposed to happen naturally?”