My eyes shot open and I summoned my Seregsword, kicking the figure whose hands had nudged my shoulders off my bed and down on the floor. I threw myself at it aggressively, letting out a loud battle cry, and pressed my sword against its neck, determined to kill it. I wasn't going to get killed again. Its skin sizzled under the pressure of the sword as I pushed harder and it raised its hands in defeat.

"Buttercup, it's me." A familiar voice said, attempting to sound re-assuring.

Keeping the sword on the man's throat, I looked around the darkness to take in my surroundings with the well-known help of my powers. It appeared I was in my room and I seemed to be fine physically, apart from the fact sweat was dripping off me like a waterfall and I was breathing as if I was in the worst shape of my life. Realization hit me when I heard a groan, my eyes widened and I immediately dismissed my sword.

Valerio threw me off him immediately and I landed against my desk with a thud. He got back on his feet and rubbed his neck, the sword had left a nasty burn.

He pointed to me, fuming in anger. "What the fuck was that?!"

"A nightmare." I sighed as I got up.

Pretty safe to say I wasn't going to sleep again tonight.

"No, no. That was something worse, I've never seen anything like it." He shook his head while pacing back and forth. "How often does it happen?"

"Every night." I awkwardly admitted.

"You're casually having these things and told no one about it?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Thing. It's the same recurring nightmare. Every. Damn. Night." I sighed and sat down on my bed again. "And yes, pretty much. I'm not going to trouble my dad with it and who else could I tell?"

He sat down on the edge of my bed. "You could've told me, you know."

"What good would that have done? Besides I'm not entirely sure I can fully trust you, puppy." I said, deciding I might as well be brutally honest now that we both had to participate in the conquest.

"Why? Have I given you any reason not to trust me?" He looked at me with a hurt expression and it was real.

"Well I mean, there's the chance that you murdered the king and queen and the fact you seem to like ripping people's heads off, not only in front of me, but behind my back as well." I blurted out.

He chuckled. "I suppose those are some fair points. In my defense, I only rip necessary heads off and it's not my fault if you see it while you sneak around. As for the murder, do you truly believe I would do that, Buttercup?"

The man had a strong defense.

Personally, I didn't think the werewolves had committed the murder, but that could be the mate bond talking without me being aware of it.

"Innocent till proven guilty I suppose." I mumbled, getting lost in thoughts about my nightmare again.

Rarely in all those nights since I broke into to the blood farm, did I have a night without that nightmare. It was the exact same each time, yet whenever I was in it I couldn't remember what was happening. Night after night, I lost, each time becoming more fearful of myself.

Valerio's eyes searched for mine worriedly. "What's going on in that head of yours, Buttercup?"

"There's a monster in there." My eyes didn't meet his, instead they stayed glued to the wall in front of me where I could catch a small glimpse at my bloodied reflection in a small vanity mirror on my desk.

He followed my gaze, stood up, went over to the desk, and grabbed the vanity mirror. He walked over to the balcony doors, opened them and threw the mirror outside over the balcony.

"Just one?" He wondered, closing the door behind him.

I raised my eyebrows at him, giving him a look for throwing the mirror outside. He rolled his eyes as he sat down again.

"It's unbeatable."

"Nothing's unbeatable. Except for you, I guess." He grinned.

"Yeah." I shot him a faint smile.

That was the whole problem you idiot.

"I know you're fighting some battle with yourself and I don't know the severity of it, but I know that you'll figure it out, no matter what." He grabbed my chin softly, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "Listen to me. You're strong as fuck. Everything that's happened in your life, you've fucking handled. It doesn't matter if you had tears in your eyes while you did it, you got through it. You will get through it again. You're a badass, don't you dare forget that."

"Thank you." I smiled on the verge of tears, not being able to hide the emotion in my voice.

Man I felt pathetic.

"Try to sleep now. I'm staying with you tonight, whether you like it or not." He stated blankly.

I frowned. "Your room is literally right next door, connected with a hole no less. Besides you shouldn't, in a couple of weeks one of us has to kill the other."

"Yeah, I'm not going to make it out alive out of that one." He scratched his neck.

I was surprised he was seriously being vulnerable at the moment. I would've never expected for the almighty intimidating and powerful werewolf king Valerio Phelan to admit any kind of vulnerable feelings, but I guessed knowing Death was peaking around the corner did things to a man.

"I don't even know if I can do it." I admitted, keeping up my own current vulnerability roll.

"Kill me?" He wondered.

"Kill anyone." I blurted out.

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening a little. "You haven't killed anyone before?"

"No one that actually stayed dead. Although some people were definitely on the brink of permanent death." I shrugged.

"Well that's unexpected." He chuckled. "That only means you're a good person, because you easily could've killed them, or me for that matter. You're going to do fine during the conquest. You'll have to since, you know, I'm rooting for you."

I burst into laughter. "Aren't you supposed to root for yourself?"

"Oh I was." He smirked. "When I actually had a chance to win."

Even though he tried to deliver it as playful as possible, there was a hint of sadness in his voice. Whether it was because he knew he was close to dying or because of something else, I didn't know.

"Who says you don't have a chance?" I asked in a stupid attempt to try and make him feel better, knowing very well those questions rarely work.

"I do." He laughed. "Now try and get some sleep, Buttercup. It's going to be a long five weeks, I'll make sure of it. If I'm going out, I'm going out with a bang."

"Of course you are." I grinned as I laid down on my pillow.

Being too big for the chair, he preferred to lie on the floor so I threw him a pillow and a blanket before trying to sleep, which worked, until he started to snore and I woke up again. Honestly, I'd prefer that over my nightmares any night.

Both of us groaned as the alarm went off at 6 am. After he dragged me out of bed he went to his own room to freshen up and get changed as I did the same in mine. We got a morning workout in and changed into a set of regular clothes afterwards. For Valerio that meant his usual blouse with the rolled up sleeves and some trousers, for me it meant an oversized t-shirt dress with a waist belt and a pair of boots. Instead of getting more trainings today, fittings, media training and the biggest, most important live interview, at least according to Foxglove, were on the schedule.

First up was the fitting. A room in the palace was cleared out for designers and tailors to work on the clothes for the conquest. I had to strip down into my underwear and stand in the middle of the room. Multiple tailors immediately got to work by taking measurements of almost my whole body while designers got busy sketching, which I thought was odd. 

From what I had heard, the design for the outfit everyone was going to have to wear was already done. It was supposed to be a three piece outfit consisting out of dry fit pants, a dry fit shirt and a waterproof vest, combined with some basic boots. So if that was the case, why were they so caught up sketching?

They had to be creating a completely different outfit for me.

I rolled my eyes, deciding I was going to cross that bridge when I came to it. I had to see what they were going to come up with first. They wrapped multiple different fabrics around me to see how it looked, from dry fit to leather. They finished by taking a multitude of pictures of me in my underwear from a couple of different angles. I quickly got dressed again and made my way to another room.

This room was converted into some sort of class room. Every fighter was there along with the whole pr team and the trainers who were going to give us a quick course on how to handle the media and the upcoming interview.

The head of the pr team, a short, older conservative lady, began speaking. "Welcome everyone. I'm sure everyone knows how important it is to present yourself well in front of the media. Even though it has no influence on the outcome of the conquest, the people can vote on the official polls and express their opinion about you on social media. Since one of you is going to be the future king, it's of the utmost importance that the people like you for your rule to be easier for you and your future children. Right now, the top three of the most popular contestants for the throne consists out of Mr. Phelan at number one, Mr. Orpheus at number two-" 

She reluctantly continued. "and Miss. Ashford at number three."

I frowned confused. Why on earth was I in the top three of most popular contestants? I had avoided every media related activity. Hell, there wasn't even any footage of me preparing in the arena.

"This top three will definitely change throughout the upcoming weeks." She smiled. "The footage of your preparations and live interview will play a big part in it. To ensure the live interview goes well tonight, the team has prepared suitable personal answers for you to the general questions that will be asked. Every interview will be twenty minutes long and cover the same questions, with exception for the last interview which will last for an hour."

"Why is my interview three times as long as the others?" I frowned while the team handed out cards with their prepared personal answers.

She smiled annoyed. "Because you have successfully evaded all other mandatory media requirements so far. We want to ensure that we have at least one hour of footage, so this interview is going to cover it all."

"Amazing." 

"It's necessary to stay kind, respectful and follow the personal guidelines on your cards at all times. No going rogue during the interviews, each and every one of you has to appear perfect. For most of you strong, handsome men that won't be an issue, especially for the two incredible impressive kings." She tried to flirt. 

Bold move, considering she could be their grandmother. 

Haimon and some of the others smirked, while Valerio frowned unimpressed.

"For others however." She continued, her eyes falling on me. "Change is going to be required." 

I rolled my eyes and took a look at the cards, immediately letting out a snort. "I volunteered because ever since I was a little girl it has been my dream to become a queen and to serve my dream king? Yeah, I'm not saying that."

"See this is what I mean. Where's the grace? Where are the manners? You're a lady Miss. Ashford, act like one." She angrily slammed her hands onto my table. "Do you know how hard it was to write anything remotely fitting for you? You're not going to screw up my hard work with your animalistic behavior. I won't have it."

Everyone in the room carefully eyed me. Valerio and Foxglove tensed up, getting ready to intervene if necessary. The woman herself immediately regretted her outburst, becoming afraid of my reaction.

I burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, I just think this failed attempt to come across as intimidating is kind of funny, because last time I checked it's not very ladylike to slam your hands onto a table out of anger either, but maybe that's just me."

A couple hours later, I was reluctantly waiting for my interview. Valerio was currently being interviewed by Chad Johnson, the kingdom's most famous reporter. People practically fainted at the sight of his beauty, his charisma and his overly confident personality. A hype I didn't really understand. He was notorious for finding out everything about one's past, present and future and throwing it in their face during interviews. Not one person had managed to put him in his place during interviews, he would always have a snappy remark ready to go. The generals seemed to really like him, which was a bad sign.

There he was, sitting a couple meters away with his overly combed back, waxed black hair and his light blue eyes, interviewing a very bored Valerio. The interview was nearly done, so I would be up in a couple of minutes. The other fighters, the generals, the pr team, my father and Mr. Anders had gathered to watch me talk on live television.

Apparently, it was going to be entertaining.

Foxglove nudged my shoulder. "Remember, Sunshine, it's live. Millions of people are watching, including children, so don't hurt the man."

"Is that limited to physical hurt alone, or am I not allowed to hurt his feelings either?"

"We need for the human fighters to have the best interviews, we don't want anything supernatural to outdo us. Whatever you do, don't fuck it up for our entire race." 

"Wasn't a no." I mumbled.

The corner of his mouth turned slightly upwards, but dropped down again when Valerio's interview was finished. Chad took a sip from his water and grabbed his new cards for my interview, the deck was four times as big as the others. The pr team gave me a stern look when I was called to sit down and I shot them a smile. I hadn't memorized a single answer from the cards they had given me. I was going in completely blind.

If they wanted a show, I would give them one.

I sat down in the chair, allowing the cameras and microphones to stay on, and leaned back comfortably. My father could barely contain himself, he was already shaking his head and snorted when his eyes locked with mine.

Chad rubbed his hands together, and shot me an overly happy smile, revealing his bleached teeth. "Alright Lola, let's start shall we?"

"It's Iola, not Lola." I frowned.

"How could I forget? Such a funny name." He laughed.

My face remained blank. "Very funny."

"So Iola, you were left at the hospital, any biological parents you know off? There didn't appear to be a record about them."

"Well babies don't make themselves, usually, so there have to be some biological parents out there."

"Did you have a rough childhood? You know, with the prophecy and your eyes? Must have caused some bullying."

"I think I turned out fine. How was yours?"

"Great actually. You could read that in my autobiography, but you probably have already, everyone has. If not, I'll send you a copy."

"Can't say that I have." I smiled, way too tired for this shit. "And please don't."

He cleared his throat and moved on. Instead of asking me relevant questions like he asked the other fighters, he continued to ask more questions about my youth, the prophecy, my relationship status, what 'sexy' outfit I was going to wear, what my dream king would be like, who I thought was the hottest out all the fighters, and pretty much anything else that wasn't truly related to the conquest, my skills or ambitions, or anything non-sexist for that matter.

I answered everything with an obvious thick layer of sarcasm, giving him precisely nothing to work with. He didn't show it, but oh, how I felt it frustrated him to the core. With every new question the tension in the room became more dreadful. Everyone off-camera whispered around, some even motioned for him to stop asking those particular questions, my father included, but he didn't care. Remembering Foxglove's warning to not cause physical harm, I clenched my jaw tightly when I realized only fifteen minutes had passed.

"Who do you think is going to win?" He asked annoyed. "Just to be clear, you're allowed to smile by the way. This isn't an interrogation, honey." 

My father, Valerio, Foxglove and Haimon sighed in unison. That was it. My patience had been pushed to its absolute limit now, and I was extremely closing to killing a person on live television.

"I am." My tone dropped and my powers rose to the surface while I dug my nails into my skin.

It appeared everyone could feel it. They shot each other multiple concerned looks while Foxglove quietly instructed the guards to stay alert. Chad shifted uncomfortably in his seat and nervously undid his tie as he started sweating.

"It is a serious question, Iola, so I expect a serious answer." There was a slight tremor in his voice and he quickly took another sip from his water.

My eyes locked with his and there was nothing behind mine. No emotions, no feelings whatsoever. Just cold, raw power. And with that one look, I had turned the overly confident man in front of me back into a terrified eight-year-old little boy. The blood had drained from his face as if the Grim Reaper himself stood in front of him to collect his soul. The effect seemed to have spread to some of the other people in the room as well, mostly the pr team, the fighters and a couple of generals.

"Look around you. The reason your cameras and microphones are working, is because I let them. The very reason you're currently in this chair interviewing me, is because I allowed it. You're breathing right now, only because I let you. But go ahead, ask me the most worthless, sexist questions. Belittle me and my abilities in front of everyone for the sake of views. Test my patience, and watch your entire shitshow fall apart."

"I-Is that a threat?" He managed to ask.

"If my strength intimidates you, I hope you realize that's a weakness of yours. Don't toy with me Mr. Johnson. You're on my time, not yours. Either do your job properly, or get the fuck out."