Everyone watched Jack pound me like a lion on a housecat. The clique cheered every time their champion thumped a new punch on me.
“Maul her face again!” Demetra shouted instructions. “Make her ugly.”
Paxton didn’t make a sound, but I could picture the sadistic, satisfied smile plastered on his face at the pathetic, helpless sight of me.
That was what he wanted.
I must have looked really wretched, because both Nat and Yelena started calling out, despite their fear of the demigod.
“Yield, Marigold!” Nat shouted.
“Marigold, please yield,” Yelena pleaded. “Let’s fight another day.”
There was no other day. I wouldn’t give the fuckers that satisfaction.
They could make me yield over my dead body.
Jack kicked me in a devil-style, faster than my swollen eye could catch. The hard heel of his foot rammed into my left ear.
A new layer of pain blossomed in my head, and my ears felt like I’d been hit by a train.
For a few seconds, all I could hear was the unbearable ringing that pounded my ear, drowning out the cheers, begging, and curses from my classmates.
Yet I still heard Paxton’s scolding, “You think this is the worst you’ll face, Marigold? You’ll face far worse. The demons will do more terrible things to you when they catch you if you’re as sloppy as this.”
Oh, I’d rather to be caught by the demons than by the demigods, fucker! But I had no strength or time to tell him that before Jack lunged at me again.
This time, I dodged faster than he’d expected me to be able to, as rage pumped through my veins.
I swept his legs from under him. He fell to the ground with a thud, and I leapt on him, my balled fist colliding with his cheekbone.
I heard a crack.
His face was his weakest spot.
I wasn’t useless after all. Accustomed to his combat style, I was getting better.
But I was too wounded. I believed that I had internal bleeding as well.
I straddled him, and jammed my fist into his eye socket. He caught my wrist, twisting it, and at the same time he pushed up with a stupid yell and threw me off.
I ended up beneath him.
I kicked out right away. And just like before, my kicks and punches didn’t have much effect on his person.
His heavy fist docked on my face again and again, shredding my skin and breaking bones. Blood flowed hot and free from my torn skin.
I was going to look really ugly if I survived this.
“Beg, bitch,” he hissed in my ear. He straddled me with his knees digging into my chest, sadistic pleasure written all over his face. His hands gripped my wrists, bruising my skin, and he pinned them to my sides. “Beg and I’ll consider not breaking another weak bone of yours. I might even let you live. Admit you’re my bitch now, and I’ll go easy on you.”
He’d broken my body, just as his master, the Demigod of Sea, wanted.
I struggled to throw him off me, but his weight felt like a thousand pounds.
“Want to be on top?” He leered at me.
“Hi, Jackie,” I said.