Vengeance (The Prince's Games Book 1) Rebecca Grey (first e reader txt) 📖

the next rock. And then the next and the next until my boots find purchase against their own stones. I don't look down.

Mud presses into my torso. The chill of it is soothing against my burning stitches. Underneath me my team is quiet. I don't know if that is a good or bad thing. Hopefully good. Hopefully they're in awe.

My core tenses as I balance by the tip of my toes and the curl of my fingertips. Pain in my side makes every breath feel forced. Every breath is daggers in my side.

Focus. Just focus.

One stone, then the next. Occasionally, pebbles or dirt tumble from around my body, from the pressure of my weight against each stone. I keep moving. I keep shifting. Flat against the wall, every inhale and exhale is shallow. All I can smell is earth, wet and musky. It sits in my nose so heavily that I fear it's all I'll be able to smell for the rest of my life.

If I can't get out of the damn hole then that very well could be true. For all of us.

That thought propels me to move a little faster. I lift my leg. My toes find purchase. I reach higher, fingers brushing against jagged rock. All my weight fluctuates to one side, my balance slipping, my boot suddenly without the stone to hold it. I hardly hear the rock as it bounces off the wall to the depths below me over the sound of my pulse inside my ears.

My fingers claw into the mud, the rock digging painfully into my palm. I take a steadying breath and look for something else to step onto. Above me there isn't much more to go. Below me there is forever to fall. And this time Marcello won't be able to protect me.

A silent prayer moves my lips. A prayer for any Saint who listens. Saint Luck, Saint Courage, Saint Strength, Saint whoever-the-fuck can help me up this wall.

Hybrids shriek somewhere above me. Not the crowd this time. Dust and pebbles rain down on me, a cloud of ash forming in the air. Another team has fallen. A second after that, another chorus of screams breaks out as another team falls too.

Haze in the air makes my throat dry. I choke on my next breath, trying to climb a little further. Dirt clings to my skin, gritty like sand. I blink it away, my eyes watering as I force them open, despite the way they sting from the debris.

"Almost there, Nilsa!" Hedda calls from below. Her large palms slapping together as she cheers me on.

I reach again and the wall... ends. My fingers curl into the ground, creating purchase where there wasn't any before. Rows of Hybrids come into view. A camera hovering a few feet away catches the view of my face as I pull myself out of the hole.

A gasp travels like a wave over the crowd. The camera zooms a little closer. My once black outfit is coated so heavily in soot and soil it's turning brown. I groan as my ribcage scrapes against the edge. My boots push off of anything and everything. Clumps of mud rain down on my team as I kick the last final foot to freedom.

Trembles shake out my taunt muscles as I feel the ground below, curling and uncurling my fingers to be sure that it's still there. Around me every other team has fallen... or won? I can't really be sure, but all I know is that all the platforms that have once held us are gone.

Marcello's rope is prickly with splinters that jab through the material of my pants and reminds me that it's there. That I should be moving. With panting breaths, I unwind the rope from my belt, only to tie one end around my waist with several knots.

"Here comes the rope!" I shout, my voice strained. Standing, I edge toward the hole and look down. From this height my team looks small. But I know I'll have to hold someone's weight as they follow after me, and they won't feel small then.

The rope bounces against the wall as it lowers and lowers and lowers some more. I back up from the edge. Digging my heels into the dirt, I hope they don't try to send Hedda up first.

Weight on the rope tries to tug me forward. The pressure digs the loop around my hips and into my skin. My face scrunches as I close my eyes and cling to the rope. Shards of the splintery material embed in my skin. Movement travels up the rope and into my body, trying to drag me down with every inch my teammates climb.

Sloane's blonde ponytail appears at the lip in a matter of seconds. Cheers erupt through the arena. She rolls over the ledge jumping up and gathering a length of rope in her hands too. I relax, with her strength to help hold me in place and support the weight of the others as they scurry up.

Finnegan, then, Hedda, and lastly Marcello with Juilliard wrapped tightly around his shoulders like a little backpack. I'd snort at the sight if my entire sinuses weren't filled with a dusting of soil.

Juilliard lets out a deep bellow as Marcello pulls them both up with help from Finnegan and Hedda. His leg is tousled as they help prop him up to standing. When I do a quick scan to make sure my whole team is up, I sigh and undo the rope, letting it drop at my feet.

Marcello steadies Juilliard before jogging to peer down at the next team. Intrigued by his curiosity, I follow closely behind. Just like our own pit of despair, it's dark the farther down the hole goes. But the Vampire, Calik, is starting to make his own way up the wall using two long picks. A