No, surely Scarlett was hearing things. Why would Poppy want to fight her? It wasn’t fair at all.

Then again, that was probably exactly why she had challenged Scarlett.

“Scarlett is a date, not an official guest,” Kaelem said to the Winter Queen, who sat on a throne on the balcony above him.

“There is no rule against it,” she replied with a gleam in her eyes. “The girl must fight.”

Scarlett returned Poppy’s glare with a scowl of her own. Poppy might have years of fighting experience and Scarlett only had what she’d done to prepare for the battle, but Scarlett wouldn’t cower away like a baby.

If she was going to lose, she’d lose swinging.

Scarlett, dressed in a tight black leather fighting outfit with long sleeves and a V neckline, entered the arena. She’d selected a staff as her weapon, with a spearhead on each end. Since she had no idea how to use a sword, it was her best chance.

After Scarlett, the announcer introduced Poppy. The crowd cheered. Apparently, they already knew who would win. Scarlett looked around into the sea of eyes peering down, eager to see her humiliated. The idea of the games fascinated her much less now that she’d turned from spectator to participant.

What nickname would someone in the crowd give her?

Reluctantly, Scarlett shook Poppy’s hand. Poppy’s expression screamed conceited. She had no worry and, Scarlett hated to admit, rightfully so.

Scarlett stood no chance, but she would do what she could to not make a total fool of herself. Kaelem had said the weapons couldn’t kill, so on the bright side, she wouldn’t die.

Scarlett raised her staff in front of her until the announcer counted down to one. Then she bolted.

While she refused to be a coward, she also wasn’t an idiot. Keeping Poppy on her toes would be Scarlett’s best chance, and if she were going to lose, she wanted to last more than thirty seconds.

“Run, run, human.”

The word struck Scarlett right in the heart. Surely, Poppy meant to insult her, but it wasn’t an insult to Scarlett. It was a reminder of what she no longer was—what was gone forever.

Scarlett darted to another hiding spot, this time behind a fountain made of ice. But to Scarlett’s surprise, running water poured down its front. Scarlett closed her eyes and felt for Poppy. Her aura drew closer.

When Poppy was near enough, Scarlett stepped out and lunged, knocking Poppy to the ground with her staff.

Scarlett thrust the spearhead at Poppy’s face. She missed, but hit the top of her shoulder. Better than a complete miss.

Poppy screamed—in pain or fury, Scarlett wasn’t sure—and pushed herself up, daggers in front of her.

“You’ll pay for that.”

Scarlett contemplated hiding again, but what good would it have done? She was better off facing Poppy now and praying for a miracle or that Poppy would just get it over with. With a deep breath, Scarlett tried to remember everything Jaser had taught her.

Poppy jabbed a dagger at Scarlett’s throat. As she blocked it with her staff, Poppy kicked her in the stomach. Scarlet flew back into the fountain.

The water was warm as it spilled over Scarlett, but surprisingly not wet. When she pushed herself up, she remained perfectly dry.

“Scared yet?” Poppy asked as she spun the daggers in her hand.

Show off.

Scarlett lifted her shoulder in indifference. “It doesn’t matter how well you fight, Cade would still rather have me.”

A high-pitched shriek exploded from Poppy’s mouth as she attacked Scarlett.

You bitch.

The words played in Scarlett’s mind, but they weren’t her own.

Somehow, she’d heard Poppy’s thoughts.

Scarlett fought off the first three strikes. She tried to break into Poppy’s mind again, but to no avail.

Poppy’s fourth blow sliced across Scarlett’s cheek. Scarlett winced as she felt the icy air hit the open wound.

Happiness struck her, sending a giggle to her lungs. She felt human again.

Her laughter didn’t last long. Poppy, face full of frenzy, plunged the daggers into Scarlett’s gut.

Pain shattered through her insides, a million needles poking into her at once. The air in her lungs had vanished. She coughed, desperate for breath. Blood sputtered out of her mouth, joining the pool of red dripping from her stomach.

This was what death would feel like.

“Do you surrender?” Scarlett heard the announcer’s voice from far away, as if it were a whisper lost in the wind.

She nodded, or tried to, and everything around her faded into blackness.

“You’ll be okay,” a familiar voice said, soft and distant.

Someone lifted her into his arms as she drifted to sleep.