Chapter 9:

"I couldn't shake

this feeling

that I had uncovered

more than

something ordinary"

-Nicole Gulla

I wished that my day off had been nicer- or at least slightly more relaxing. But the dark cloud of anger and confusion that hovered over my head had made me waste the single day of reprieve that was granted. But worst of all was that I really could have channeled all that rage I was feeling into something productive if it had been a fight day.

As I walked down the uneven path to the Dining Hall I scowled at the thought of Alexander Ferraris ruining my day. By when I reached the hall, my thoughts were jarred as a hand grabbed my arm and dragged me off to the side. I hissed and looked up at my assailant. Dark pleading eyes met mine, but I didn't feel the overwhelming irritation looking at her like I did yesterday. Still, annoyance prickled my spine.

"I thought you'd still be in bed," I said, arching my brow.

Justice wrung her hands in front her, a wordless way of communicating her nervousness. Every single emotion was transparent on her face. "I got up early so I could talk to you."

I grabbed a croissant from a nearby platter and walked up to my usual table, Justice meekly trailing behind me. Meek was not a word I usually associated with her, so she must be really upset. When I reached the table a frown marred my face- Henry wasn't there.

"I asked Henry to give us some privacy," Justice said, timidly perching in the seat across from me. "Look Lyra," Justice said, her big eyes imploring, "Ian and I are really sorry. We didn't mean to make you feel worse."

"Why were you talking about me in the first place?"

"I don't know," she sighed, her eyes flittering to the tops of the table, a finger picking at the scratched wood. "I just saw you there and blurted out everything my drunk mind thought of. I didn't have too many friends back in Candor and I consider you one, so please don't stay angry."

And looking at those earnest eyes I felt my annoyance fade. My mother once told me 'weak people revenge, strong people forgive, but intelligent people remember.' And I would remember. But Justice was my friend, and I had to remember that honesty was a character trait drilled into her since birth, just like being a know-it-all was for me. And she did just drag herself out of bed at six thirty in the morning to grovel.

I smirked, "Alright, but next time you and Ian decide to have a gossip fest, make sure the person you are talking about isn't in the room at least."

She tentatively smiled, "So we're forgiven?"

Forgiven yes, but never forgotten. "Of course."

And with that final statement, the awkward tension dissipated and floodgates on Justice's mouth opened. I learned about every piece of news or gossip that had happened since I stormed out yesterday. I don't know why gossip is so frowned upon- any sort of knowledge, no matter how its acquired is valuable. Knowledge is power after all, but then again that's a very Erudite like sentiment.

Henry and Ian joined us ten minutes later, Ian smiling at me unsurely. I simply smiled back to let him know that I had gotten over my anger.

"So Lyra," Henry began, "Where is this Dauntless library that you disappeared to yesterday?"

I stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. "There is no library in the compound. I went to the one at the Hub."

Justice choked on her orange juice, "You left!"

I nodded, "I asked Four for permission and he escorted me to the train."

Ian scrunched up his nose, "What did you need to go to the library for?"

Henry and I both offered him droll looks. "I like reading," I said, and once again cursed Alexander in my head for making me so blindingly angry that I didn't think to check any books out.

"Can't believe that Four gave you permission," Henry said thoughtfully.

"Why?" Ian asked through a mouthful of food. "He seems a lot nicer than Eric…"

"True," Henry nodded, and I definitely agreed. "I just didn't think that Dauntless gave us many privileges like that," he explained.

Justice snorted, "We're initiates, not prisoners. They can't keep us locked up in here."

I didn't bother to voice how naïve I thought she sounded.

"We should get down to the training room or we'll be late," Henry said, and we rose to our feet. A small mass of black clothing and different coloured hair.

When we reached the training room, all of us tensed, nerves immediately anticipating the awaiting threat. But instead of a chalkboard full of names and a blood stained boxing ring, a table lined with throwing knives faced us. The true danger however lurked behind the table. Four stood in his trademark ramrod straight posture and crossed arms, while Eric lounged against a pillar, picking at his nails with the tip of a blade.

It infuriated me at how nonchalant he behaved in such dire circumstances. This was a man who truly thrived on danger, and everything else appeared to be dull in comparison to him. When he finally decided to acknowledge our presence his blue eyes met mine and he smirked.

Jackass.

When the rest of the transfers filtered in the room, Four finally broke his stance and said, "This morning you will resume practice with throwing knives. This is one of the more difficult skills to acquire, so Eric and I will be around to assist." It felt like we all let out a collective sigh of relief until Four continued, "But this afternoon we will resume one- on- one fights."

And with that simple statement I felt tenseness creep back into my shoulders. And by the looks of it I wasn't the only one. Eyes darted around, as we all nervously sized each other up wondering who was going to have to take on who in the ring. I could almost fell a phantom throbbing in my eye, protesting at the thought of further battering.

Eric scowled as we all remained motionless with panic, "Take your knives and go!" he spat. And like nervous little mice under a python's gaze, we all scurried up to the table and grabbed at the knives with greedy hands, anxious to avoid those blue eyes.

When I reached out to take a knife, a hand appeared and offered one to me. I knew it belonged to him, so I wordlessly yanked it out of the proffered palm. I didn't even bother to lift my head and look him in the eye to thank him. A large part of my brain was once again questioning my sanity as I clearly snubbed one of the most dangerous men in Dauntless again, but I was sick of his taunting. So without a glance, I moved to a target. And that reckless part of me wanted to turn just to see the look on Eric's face.

I resisted that urge and took my place in front of a target beside Justice, letting my mind wander back to what Four had instructed us on knife throwing. I firmly planted my feet to the ground, but left my upper body loose. I practiced the wrist motions a couple times before finally taking the cold steel into my hands. And as I drew back my arm and released the knife I winced, already knowing that it would not hit its target. Instead of the red circle, it planted itself into one of the further rings. I huffed being both angry and nervous about my failure. I couldn't afford to not be good at this.

So I kept throwing. Knife after knife. Some progressively made their way closer to the bulls-eye, but it was never consistent. And none of them ever hit my intended target. Frustration was beginning to crack my cool exterior. Justice shot me a worried glance, but I ignored her, and kept flinging my failures.

I picked up another knife and lined my body into the proper position. Pulling back my arm I let my eyes focus onto my target. Nothing else existed except for my knife and that circle. I inhaled deeply, about to let the knife fly from the tips of my fingers when thick hands cupped my hips and a broad chest molded itself to my back. I sucked in a sharp breath of shock at the contact and my muscles tensed at the invasion of space.

"Your in the wrong position grunt," Eric's deep voice said from far too close to my ear.

I felt my body stiffen even more, trying to fight off shivers from his hot breath hitting sensitive flesh. And I knew that if I turned around right now I would probably witness an infuriatingly smug smirk.

Eric's hands pressured my hips in to turning left and his upper body forced my torso to follow the movement. When I started to shift my legs his large hands slithered down and clamped on the front of my thighs. My heart was beating so loud I could hear it pulsing in my ears.

"Don't move your feet or legs," he said, his voice a quiet rumble. "Just your upper body. That way when you aim, your arm will be lined up with the target and not off to the side."

I realized that I was still holding my breath and released it like a deflating balloon. And once again one of his strong hands slid up my body, the tips of his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps under my sleeves until his palm circled my delicate wrist. He drew my arm back, whilst pushing my hips into place and finally moved with me to throw the knife. I didn't need to watch to know that my knife would hit the target; in fact I barely noticed it. My mind was too busy panicking at his close and extremely inappropriate contact. What the hell is going on?

After staring at the knife, and letting my mind run wild at what Eric's motives were for practically groping me in public, I realized that he still hadn't let go. His warmth was an ever- steady presence completely enveloping me with his huge form. But it wasn't a safe or comfortable warmth- it rather felt like a flickering flame, quick to temper and ready to burn me to a crisp.

"Think you can handle that grunt?" the too close voice questioned, and the condescending tone snapped me out of my thoughts. I straightened up and shot him a cold look over my shoulder. And I was right, he was wearing an infuriating smirk on his stupid pierced lips, but his eyes looked so intense, too intense, so I quickly turned away and tried to shake off the feeling of his heat.

I strode over to the target and yanked my knife out of dead centre, trying not to be too jerky or sharp with my movements. I didn't want him to know how pissed off I was. Showing him any sort of reaction would only encourage his attention- and that was the last thing I wanted. But when I took my place again, I noticed that Eric was still standing near, watching me intently.

Mentally cursing him, I lined my body up exactly how he showed me before inhaling and drawing my knife back. I tilted my hips and kept my feet firm as I let the knife cut through the air and bury itself into the bulls-eye. But I didn't feel any triumph at my success- it was tainted by him. And when I turned around, scowl painted on my lips, hostility practically wafting off me, he was gone and Four was standing in his place looking completely bewildered. I glanced around and noticed that most of the other transfers were either outright staring at me, or at least peaking out of the corner of their eyes.

Great. Eric just painted an even bigger target on my chest. Because if people mistook his molestation for chemistry, they could think I was gaining favors with skills other than knife throwing. And I didn't want anyone to even suspect that I was whoring my way through the ranks.

By the time lunch was announced I had once again worked myself into a foul mood. It seemed to be another common occurrence since my transfer to Dauntless. I threw myself into a chair in the Dining Hall, missing the looks that Henry, Justice, and Ian traded with each other.

"So…" Ian started, but I shot him a dark look.

Justice snorted, "Come on Lyra, if it was one of us you'd be dying to know why the scariest man alive was practically fondling us."

My lips were pinched in distaste, "I don't know. I think he was trying to throw me off my game."

"Why would he want you to fail? They are suppose to be helping us… and you did hit your target after his…help," Henry said.

I hadn't ever intended to tell anyone about my secret trips to the gym, I didn't want anyone to think of me as bigger competition. So I quietly pondered how to explain Eric's actions. But it was hard to tell when I wasn't one hundred percent sure of his motivations myself.

"I don't know," I finally huffed, "Because he knew doing that would make me uncomfortable…" I said, but it came out more like a question.

Justice chuckled, "You looked like someone had just dipped you in ice!"

Everyone at the table laughed until a cold voice from behind me said, "Didn't think you had it in you to fuck your way into Dauntless…"

I turned and saw Fern staring at me with Ben beside her. Her face betrayed an interesting mix of unwilling admiration and disgust."

"I don't even know why he would choose her," Ben said, eyeing me up like a particularly gross insect. "She looks like a freak with that black eye."

"Shut up you jealous pansies, Lyra doesn't have to screw anyone to gain respect," Justice casually said, shooting a pointed look at Fern. It seemed like everyone remembered my verbal dressing down with the Amity girl.

Fern dramatically huffed and, but let Ben tug her away to another table. Marina was conspicuously absent. We all traded eye rolls at the pair.

Ian remained quiet though, until he finally spoke up, "He didn't do that to any of the other transfers. He barked out orders, but he never- uh- touched us."

"Can we please just not talk about this," I said, almost wishing I hadn't. A cry for avoidance meant it was affecting me, and I didn't want anyone to think that Eric had any sort of control over my behavior.

We all spent a few minutes in silence just chewing our food before Henry said, "I wonder who we will have to fight this afternoon…"

And I felt my stomach drop as I remember that we once again had to face off against each other this afternoon. I became irrationally angry with Eric again from distracting me from this.

I ate a banana figuring I could use the protein, but couldn't stomach anything heavier. And by the time we had to march back down to the training room, dread had settled in my gut. I didn't want to do this again. I wasn't prepared, and my confidence was shaken.

The scene looked exactly the same. A boxing ring that had been scrubbed clean, but still displayed blemished blood marks like macabre trophies. The old world chalk board, and the two scary mentors- one stoic, and one excited.

I ignored everything, but the chalkboard. My eyes didn't have to scan the list long to find my name. I was the first one on the list. The first fight: LYRA VS. MARINA. I felt like this was Eric's unsubtle form of payback for snubbing him. To make me fight first against an opponent who didn't have to fight last time. Not only would Marina be in better physical condition than me, but she would already know some of my tactics. And the girls was a complete mystery to me- personality wise she blended into the background, and skill wise I had never paid her much attention. She had the advantage, but I had desperation.

"Lyra and Marina, you're up first," Four said, gesturing for the two of us to take the ring.

I scanned the mousey brunette girl looking for any obvious weaknesses. She was short, but weighed more. And I thought back to what Eric had told me- my arms muscles were pathetic, (he was expecting me to go train them in the gym tonight) so I was going to have to rely on my legs.

I crawled onto the mat, and without even making it to the centre she attacked me. A vague part of my mind informed me that this was probably because I attacked Henry first last time- she knew my techniques. I stepped out of the way of her tackle, and sent a firm kick to her ribs. She stumbled, but grabbed my ankle and pulled me down with her. The mat absorbed most of the impact, but it still jarred me.

And I felt that same primal force that I witnessed in Henry's eyes overwhelm me. I lunged for Marina's fallen figure and pinned her face down to the mat. Straddling her thighs, I kept her legs forced down with my weight. But she still managed to reach back and land a blow on my bruised collarbone. I let out a cry of pain, and instinctually grabbed the back of her head and slammed it into the mat. When I lifted her head back up I spotted fresh scarlet blood staining the mat.

"I concede," she choked out.

And a part of me could grudgingly admit to feeling as bloodthirsty as Fern had been with Claire. Because something about fighting made you not want to stop until you had obliterated the other threat. But I was slightly disgusted with this primal feeling- I was a rational civilized person, not a mindless beast. So I rose to my feet and held my hand out for her, not quite able to believe it was over so quickly. Marina took it, looking equal parts furious and pained. I couldn't blame her for being angry- but then again I was going to do anything to win. Medics in red shirts swarmed her.

We separated and the sound of chalk drew my eyes to Eric's large form. He was circling my name. I wanted to gloat at him about how I'm not completely useless, how I won't end up factionless, but I reined my ego in. He was nothing. Nothing but a huge pain in my ass at least.

"Ben and Justice, you're next," Four exclaimed, and Justice shot me a big smile of congratulations before climbing onto the mat.

I watched as Justice immediately ran at Ben and faked a right hook, before planting a firm kick with her left leg into his leaning torso. Ben winced, but shot his long arms out and grabbed Justice, twisting her into a headlock. And no matter how many times she planted her foot onto his shins or elbowed his wrist, he kept a tight grip on her neck until her eyes rolled back in her head.

I winced at my seemingly invincible friend's loss, but some small part of me couldn't help but feel better that Justice wasn't perfect. The medics in their red tee shirts all swarmed around Justice's fallen form, until they whisked her away to the infirmary. And I as I watched my other friends fight- Henry and Ian once again becoming victors I could feel my body prickle with awareness. Eric was watching me, which was stupid because he was supposed to be assessing our fighting skills, but I could feel his eyes on me. And I cursed his curiosity and my stupidity at catching it in the first place.

And as I sat watching the violence in front of me, feeling those cold eyes study my form, I decided that even if my head exploded, I was never going back to that gym again.

A/N: Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. There was more Eric interaction, so that's always fun. And I am really having fun playing around with his interactions with Lyra (the next chapter will be full of them).

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!

-Nyx : )