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

#2 TEAM RIVERIA:

Lux - Female, Elf

Alastar - Male, Darf

Amory - Female, Orc

Credence - Male, Elf

Rumi - Female, Orc

Bullie – Female Vampire

#3 TEAM ASHFORD:

Mavi – Male, Elf

Davison – Male, Human - DECEASED

Rake – Male, Saytr

Calik – Male, Vampire

Dakota – Male, Werewolf

Jefferson – Male, Elf

#4 TEAM WINDSOR:

Nilsa – Female, Human

Juilliard – Male, Elf

Marcello – Male, Elf

Finnegan - Male, Vampire

Sloane – Female, Vampire

Hedda - Female, Orc

#5 TEAM CUTTINGTON:

Bekke – Female, Elf

Isla – Female, Vampire

Orchid – Female, Vampire

Winona – Female, Dryad

Noor – Female, Werewolf - DECEASED

Washington – Male, Faun

Sleep in the Safe Haven doesn't feel very... safe. Every sound, no matter how small makes my eyes flutter open, and falling back into a slumber is that much harder. Hedda sleeps through the whole night. I know by the way she snores heavily.

It's not like the way that Marcello had softly purred in his sleep, this sounds more like the poor woman is choking on something in her nasal passageway every two minutes. So with sleep still in my eyes, I pull my new boots on.

There is a commotion of movement even outside of our tent as the teams ready themselves. Weapons being sharpened, bodies washing in the running waters, voices carrying in low quick whispers, and practiced swinging of swords colliding.

Hedda stretches her arms over her head, shouting a yawn. "Shit." She blinks her eyes, standing and slinging her gun over her back. "Want to go search out something to eat?"

I want to go search out one of the Elves. Credence maybe, since he'd given me such a snide conversation yesterday. What I don't want to do is make small talk with Hedda while she quizzes me on how the Human digestive system works, as if that's something I understand myself.

"As long as you can promise me silence," I say. My movements are slow and there's a pang in my ribs like a thorn in my side. It's not a thorn though, just these damn stitches. I lift my new shirt to get a look at the bandage. Blood from my shirt had either stained the top of the bandage, or I managed to pop a stitch in my sleep.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Like a bitch. Maybe it's better if I find Juilliard before the Games start today. Have him take a look." My pride says 'don't do it,' but my general sense of wanting to make it through the Games today says 'you better fucking do it'.

"Eat first." Hedda grunts and opens the tent flap, holding it for me.

I run my hand down my torso, flattening my shirt back down and brush my finger over my daggers through the material of my pants. One step and then another and I'm bowing under the open doorway.

Large lights are glowing above, illuminating every space. Buzzing drones with pointed cameras watch from above. One lowers, flying by our heads. What a welcoming wake up. I swat the camera away like the annoying little bug it is and Hedda chuckles.

"Wait up ladies!" Marcello pokes his head out of the tent and calls with Juilliard not far behind him.

Hedda slows, but I don't bother. Marcello catches up to my side anyway, looping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his side. His curls are stretched with water and it's clear he's washed off the stench of the day before.

"Lucky you getting to take a bath. Juilliard says I can't get my stitches wet for forty-eight hours." I look up at him, not entirely hating the weight of his arm across my back.

"I could offer you a sponge bath," he smirks.

"You'd like that, but I'll politely decline." I whisper, gently taking his hand and lifting it off of me.

"I'll leave the offer open in case you change your mind." Marcello winks and I have to force myself not to smile, not even a little bit.

Juilliard and Hedda remain quiet behind us as we pass by the other teams sitting around their fires. With the gold tents in view, my eyes go straight for the Elf males sitting and eating bacon straight out of the pan suspended over their fire. Mavi and Jefferson talk amongst themselves. They almost look... pleasant as they smile and joke.

Marcello only frowns in their general direction. Bright blue eyes look up as Jefferson notices us passing. Mavi follows his stare. He smiles softly at me and offers a slight wave. To me? Is he waving at me? Turning my head right then left I'm not sure that there are any other possibilities so I wave back. It's a short, curt wave, but it's better than nothing.

"What was that?" Marcello says, a clear edge to his tone.

"I'm making friends." I blink innocently.

"Nilsa, you aren't even friends with us and we are on the same team. I find it hard to believe that you'd have any interest in having Mavi as a friend. Unless you just like to torture me."

"Oh, I do like to torture you." I poke my elbow into his side, testing out Juilliard’s work on his rib. "How's your injury?"

"Don't change the subject."

Juilliard steps up to my other side. "Did you go snooping yesterday after I asked you not to?"

"Snooping?" Marcello's voice is hollow and hoarse.

"She's trying to figure out who the prince is." Juilliard answers before I can and I scowl at him. That's exactly what I'm trying to do, but he's putting it in such a bad light. It's for my own good... for the good of our whole team. Damn the king.

Marcello stops. His hand reaches for my elbow, pulling me to stand next to him. Hedda hisses as she digs