The guard grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her along a narrow, overgrown path. Trees closed in around them like watching eyes. When they reached a small clearing surrounded by thick bush, he shoved her forward without a word. Harper stumbled but caught herself. Her eyes immediately took in the other boys—barely older than her, some younger, all with the same hardened look in their eyes, like wild animals forced to survive.
"She is joining the training!" the guard barked before disappearing as abruptly as he arrived.
The boys all turned and stared, some with interest, some with contempt. She met their gazes head-on. No fear. Not anymore.
A man emerged—a tall, muscular figure with a scarred face and whip in hand. Without warning, he struck her arm. The sting made her wince, and her hand flew to the wound instinctively.
But she didn't cry out. She didn't flinch. She looked straight at him.
"Pretty cool," he said, a twisted grin on his face as he gave a satisfied nod. "Today's training is very easy! Everyone, bring out your blindfold!"
"Yes, sir!" they shouted in unison, voices rough with discipline.
Harper dug into her pocket and found a blindfold already there. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled it out, but she masked her nerves with a sharp inhale and tied it tightly over her eyes.
"You'll run from here to that tree up there! If you're left behind, get ready to be eliminated! Now!"
The shout cracked like thunder, and the ground rumbled as feet pounded the earth. Chaos erupted. Bodies collided. Shouts, curses, pain. Harper hadn't even moved far before someone slammed into her, and she hit the ground hard.
"What the hell!" the person groaned. "This girl gonna get me killed!"
Heart pounding, Harper scrambled up. Her ribs ached, but she forced herself to run. She couldn't see—only feel—the wind brushing past her ears, the uneven ground beneath her boots, and the sudden, agonizing thud as she collided with a tree.
Blood trickled from her forehead.
Still, she ran.
Where would I go if I'm eliminated? she thought, panting. I don't even know where I am. I have to make it.
Her limbs burned. Her body screamed. But when she hit something solid—the tree—she yanked off the blindfold and collapsed by its base.
The instructor was already waiting, a cruel smile tugging his lips. There was a line drawn clearly on the ground, and behind it were boys gasping for breath—those who didn't make it.
"You guys failed, so you will be eliminated."
Eliminated? What does that—
Then came the splash. Warm, thick, and metallic.
Blood.
Harper's eyes widened in horror. She screamed as she wiped her face, trembling. Five bodies slumped to the ground in seconds. Gone.
"We will continue the training right away!" the instructor shouted.
Boys jumped to their feet. Harper was still frozen, her breath shallow.
The elimination means getting killed… not sent away.
"Hey, little girl! Stand up quickly before you get eliminated!" a voice hissed.
She obeyed, dazed, barely able to keep her legs straight. They were each handed an axe—heavy, rusted, brutal-looking.
They were told to cut down trees. If they couldn't, they'd die. If the tree fell on them, they'd die.
So she cut. And cut. And cut.
Her palms blistered. Her muscles tore and repaired and tore again. She bled, cried silently, and fought through everything—because she had to.
As days turned into weeks, and weeks into endless time, Harper changed. Her hair was chopped short, rough and uneven. She bound her chest tight under her uniform, trying to erase all signs of femininity. It was the only way to survive in a field of boys where being different meant weakness.
They mocked her. Touched her. Beat her.
But she endured.
Ross favored her. Some whispered about it. Others dared not speak. His favoritism meant she had food when others didn't. It meant punishment when she let herself get bullied. So she trained harder.
And they died—one by one, boys who couldn't keep up, whose arms failed them, who dared to cry.
She stopped counting the dead.
"Hey Harper! The Boss called for you!"
She blinked and looked up. Her face, once soft, was now sharpened by struggle. Numb to fear. Calm, calculating.
"I'm coming," she said, voice steady.
She followed the guard into Ross's office. The room smelled like cigars and money—sterile and suffocating.
Ross sat behind a polished desk, watching her with a familiar glint of interest. She walked in like she owned the place—shoulders back, head high. Her all-black outfit clung to her like armor. Her boots thudded heavy on the floor. Weapons lined her belt.
A queen in the skin of a soldier.
"Ain't you all grown up, Harper?" Ross smirked.
"Good evening, boss. You called for me."
"How's your training going?"
"Very well."
"I heard you're one of their best fighters out there."
"I have to survive, you see."
"Yeah, that's the energy! Live!"
"Yes, boss."
"You're almost 17 now."
"Almost 17?"
"Yes. It's been almost two years that you've been here, but I guess you lost track of time."
"All thanks to you," she said, smirking slightly.
"You're proud, Harper."
"You taught me to be that way."
"When you turn 20, you'll be my personal guard and work for me till you die."
"I never agreed to that, Ross."
"I'm not asking you, Harper. I'm just telling you right here now so you can train harder and prepare yourself for the future that awaits you."
"And you think I'm gonna settle for being your guard only? Just that?"
"What else can you do? You can't have any power unless I give it to you."
"If you don't give it to me, I'll take it."
"How would you do that? You can't do anything behind me, Harper."
"How about we start by making me Logan's bodyguard instead?"
Ross paused, then burst into laughter. "What? You wanna work with my boss? Then you go there and start running your mouth."
"Are you scared?"
"Scared of you, Harper? I brought you here. You belong to me. You'll serve me and not Logan. You don't have the capacity to work with Logan."
"Everything here doesn't belong to you, Ross. You just serve Logan by the side as well. Why should I settle for being your guard only?"
"I have good plans for you. But you need to prove your loyalty to me first."
"What do you want?"
"You'll serve me the way I serve Logan. Then I'll give you the chance to dream."
"I'll count on you." She turned and walked out without waiting to be dismissed.
"Are you not giving Harper too much opportunity, boss?" a guard asked quietly.
"The opportunity is never too much."
"She'll go against you someday."
"She doesn't have the power to do that."
"But if she ever works with Logan, then she might have power. What if she tells everything about all the business we're doing behind him, aside from the drugs?"
"She will never do that."
"Harper has nothing to lose. She doesn't care."
"She has her life to lose. She's holding onto her life tightly. She's full of anger, and she needs vengeance against those who wronged her. Harper will never give up on her life no matter what."
"So you will send her to Logan because she wanted to?"
"I will. When it's time. She'll be a great help to me whenever I want to overthrow Logan."
"She might not help you. Did you forget about her sister? Logan got rid of Sincere."
"Harper is not dumb like Sincere. She'll only follow the winning team. And everything Logan has is still in my hands. What can he do without me? Nothing."
"I will believe in you, sir."
"Cool."