Katrina
"Is...Is she okay?" I groaned, rubbing my hand in a circular motion over my chest, hoping that the applied pressure would ease some of the aches that had yet to be healed, still stunned, that I was alive and breathing.
"She'll live," Miles grunted, although I could tell by his eyes that he had wanted a different outcome. "Are you okay?" he asked as he bent down and lifted me off the floor, not bothering to give the Professor a second look as he assisted me, and wrapped me in his arms, holding me tightly against him, squeezing me as if he wanted me to become apart of him, so he'd never have to let me go.
The first round had been exhilarating. My adrenaline was high, and my only thought was, "You need to survive this. You need to win". And at first, when she came at me over and over again, when her swings wouldn't stop when the cuts and the bruises started to weigh me down, I'd felt like this was the end, this was it, my finale. But the second that thought crossed my mind, I knew I couldn't give in, that I couldn't let her defeat me. I hadn't even said goodbye to my men, and Luka and I were still fighting. The images of my lovers are what kept me going. They'd given me the energy I needed to keep going. To keep fighting. So, I zoned everything else out and began to hyperfocus on my opponent's movements, on the way her body reacted with each swing, and luckily for me, that intense concentration paid off. It helped me notice her tell. Every time she'd swing, her nose would wrinkle. It was such an odd tick that I wanted to kick myself in the foot for not having noticed it earlier.
When the first round ended, and I'd survived, I felt like I could breathe again. I was exhausted, bruised, battered, and bleeding, but I was still alive, still breathing. And that feeling of being alive, of living, it was euphoric; it was like a high, the type of high you could become addicted to. Which is probably, why I'd felt the need to tell Freyja that I would surpass the other rounds, and luckily I'd kept my word.
My second round went quickly, passing in a blur. Freyja's divine gift was strong, but it was mediocre at best compared to mine. As soon as the round had started, I drew on the powers of all five of my mates and threw everything I had on her, wiping her off her feet. In a desperate attempt to defeat me, she'd tried to call on the power of the dead, rising soldiers who'd fallen in battle to continue their fight, but we weren't on a battlefield; there weren't thousands of corpses lying around for her to command, and so her army ended up being vermin instead, rats and other rodents who'd died on the school property. And they were nothing compared to the fire I'd borrowed from Samael. My shield repelled them, keeping them from sinking their teeth into me, while my fire burned them, turning their little revied corpses into ashes, making it impossible for Freyja's gift to continue to resurrect them.
By the end of the second round, Freyja and I had both overexerted ourselves. The Divine Gift round had exhausted Freyja, almost depleting her magical ability, her aura flickering from exhaustion. And I was still recovering from the first round with our weapons. My body ached all over, and it took everything in me to remain to stand, the pure exhaustion caused by blocking the blows of the broad sword finally affecting me. Knowing I wouldn't last in the third round if I relied solely on my weapon, I tried pulling magic from my mates again, wanting to use their strength, but I was met with resistance. The harder I tugged, trying to envelop the powers inside of me, the harder it'd become, and then I felt it. A sensation I'd never felt before. My succubus preened with excitement as the feeling grew stronger, her senses causing me to feel pure satisfaction, and that's when I realized what was happening. They had no more magic to give; I'd depleted them, using everything I could to get through the second round. There was only one other thing they had to offer me to feed the hunger I felt inside. I wasn't pulling at their divine powers; I was feeding off their souls.
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