9: "The Final Fight"

The tension in the air was thick, as the twenty remaining students gathered in the arena, awaiting their one-on-one matches. The proctor, a tall figure draped in a dark, imposing cloak, stood at the front of the group, a stern expression on his face as he surveyed the crowd of competitors. Blaire stood tall, trying to steady her breathing, even though her body was still aching from the battle royale. Her shoulder throbbed, and her ribs ached with every breath, but she couldn't afford to think about it. Not now.

Lydia stood beside her, looking just as battered. A cut on the corner of her lip had started to swell, and she clutched her side as if her ribs might be bruised. But despite it all, she flashed Blaire a reassuring smile.

"Just don't let them break you, Blaire," Lydia said, her voice filled with determination despite the fear in her eyes.

"I'm not going to let them," Blaire replied, giving Lydia a tight smile.

The proctor stepped forward, his voice booming across the arena. "Lydia Quinn versus Tiffany Vale!"

Blaire's attention immediately shifted. Lydia's opponent, Tiffany Vale, had been one of the most cunning students in the last trial. The girl had a knack for making underhanded moves, and her sharp instincts had earned her a spot in the final round. She had been sneaky and using cheap tricks in the battle royale, but Lydia was no slouch either. Blaire knew she could handle herself.

Lydia squared her shoulders as she walked toward the center of the arena, her eyes narrowing in determination. Tiffany did the same, a smug grin on her face, her blonde hair bouncing with each step. The two women squared off, each sizing the other up. Tiffany's eyes flicked to Blaire, and for a moment, she flashed a look of pure disdain before the proctor raised his hand.

"Begin!"

Tiffany was the first to move, charging at Lydia with surprising speed. She lunged, aiming for Lydia's midsection, but Lydia twisted out of the way, narrowly avoiding the strike. Tiffany tried again, this time grabbing for Lydia's hair, but Lydia countered, slamming her fist into Tiffany's side. The crowd gasped, surprised by the force of the blow.

But Tiffany wasn't finished. She retaliated with a sharp pull on Lydia's hair, yanking her down to the ground. Lydia grunted, pain flashing across her face, but she didn't give up. She twisted under Tiffany's weight and kicked out, sending the girl tumbling to the side.

Blaire's heart raced as she watched Lydia fight. Lydia was more than just tough—she was clever. She used her opponent's aggression against her, dodging and weaving in a fluid motion that seemed almost effortless. Every time Tiffany thought she had Lydia cornered, Lydia managed to slip away.

The fight seemed to go on forever, but then, with a swift move, Lydia reversed the situation. She caught Tiffany off guard, flipping the girl onto her back. Then, in a move that stunned the crowd, Lydia pinned Tiffany to the ground, holding her down with surprising strength. Tiffany struggled, but Lydia's grip was ironclad.

"Give up," Lydia said, her voice calm but firm.

Tiffany hesitated, her eyes wide with disbelief. She tried to squirm, but it was clear she had no way out. Finally, with a sharp breath, she tapped the ground—signifying her surrender.

The crowd erupted in applause as the proctor called out, "Lydia Quinn wins!"

Lydia stood up, panting, her chest heaving from the exertion. She gave Tiffany one last look, almost as if daring her to get back up, before walking off the stage with her head held high. Blaire watched her friend with pride, even as she couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. The true test was still to come.

The proctor's voice once again cut through the tension. "Blaire Delphine versus Dion Pierce!"

Blaire's heart sank as her name was called. She couldn't even look at Lydia—she needed to focus. Dion Pierce was not just some random competitor. He was a beast. Tall, built like a tank, and with the experience to match. His reputation in the trials had been nothing short of brutal. He had crushed his opponents effortlessly, and Blaire knew she was about to face a fight for her life.

Dion stepped forward, his eyes cold and calculating as they locked on her. Blaire could feel the weight of his gaze, but she didn't flinch. She couldn't afford to show any weakness.

"Don't give up, Blaire," Lydia's voice whispered in her ear as she passed by on her way to the sidelines. Blaire nodded, but the doubt in her stomach only grew stronger.

The proctor raised his hand, signaling the start of the match. "Begin!"

Dion came at her fast, his speed deceiving for someone of his size. Blaire barely had time to react as his massive fist came crashing toward her. She ducked just in time, the wind from his punch brushing past her ear. But she wasn't fast enough to avoid his follow-up. Dion's knee collided with her chest, knocking the air out of her lungs. Blaire staggered backward, struggling to regain her balance, but Dion wasn't giving her a second to recover.

With a roar, he lunged, grabbing her by the arm and throwing her across the arena. Blaire hit the ground hard, the impact jarring every bone in her body. Blood filled her mouth as she struggled to stand, her vision blurring for a moment. This was bad—so bad.

She forced herself to her feet, her mind racing. She couldn't fight him head-on. She was smaller, weaker. But she had her own advantages. Dion may be powerful, but Blaire wasn't about to let him think he had the upper hand.

He charged again, and this time, Blaire ducked low. She used her smaller frame to her advantage, slipping under Dion's reach and spinning around behind him. In one fluid motion, she delivered a sharp kick to his ribs, followed by a quick punch to the back of his knee. He stumbled, but he didn't fall.

Blaire took the opportunity to get in close, landing a solid jab to his gut. Dion grunted, but he was quick to retaliate. His hand shot out, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her off the ground. Blaire gasped for air, her hands clawing at his wrist, but she refused to give up. Her vision started to fade, the pressure around her neck tightening, but she fought through it.

Her legs swung, finding purchase on Dion's chest. With all her remaining strength, Blaire kicked off and drove her fist into his throat, hard.

He gasped, choking on the air as he stumbled back, clutching his neck. It was enough. Blaire didn't wait for him to recover. She charged forward, throwing punch after punch until he crumpled to the ground, unable to defend himself anymore.

The crowd was silent, waiting for the proctor's verdict. Blaire stood over Dion, panting heavily, blood dripping from her lip and staining her top. She barely had the energy to raise her head when the proctor's voice finally broke through the silence.

"Dion Pierce is unable to continue. Blaire Delphine wins!"

Blaire's knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, her body too tired to keep standing. Her shoulder screamed in pain, her side throbbed, and her vision was still blurred from the hit to her head. But she didn't care. She had won.

And then, from the edge of the arena, she felt it. A sharp, almost predatory presence, something unlike anything she had felt before. Larkin.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw him standing there, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. Blaire couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine as she met his gaze. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something dark and possessive.

And then, he took a step forward, his lips curling into a faint, predatory smile.