Page 9

They slink away, pulling their robes around them. A triad runs out of the portcullis gates and lifts the three women, taking them away.

I let my eyes flow upwards to the priests. They were obeyed without question—and yesterday, they were seen as the highest echelon.

Now, they can be killed in a moment on the whim of the War-God. Thousands upon thousands of years of study and rites, taken away by the crushing bite of the Shadow Wolves.

Obsidian raises his hands. “You will follow me. You will earn your Mate through acts of war. But no one will foster a cursed Bond like mine. No one will condemn a child to a life of agony. I can feel this—I can feel it like an open wound, and if I see any man take a woman by force, I will go through the gates themselves and I will rip you open.”

His eyes glow as he speaks, and I’m sucked in, seeing the trillions of twinkling stars for a moment before they wink out, and I believe it.

This man can see through space and time.

No, not a man.

A God. A God who will bring me the only thing I crave more than revenge against the Aurelian Empire.

My Mate.

“You follow me because you felt the Bond thrum and you knew this was your chance at finding your Mate. I can see the sands of time. I can see the perilous path through the ether. Bring in the Orb-Gate.”

The two huge wolves turn to face the main portcullis gates, where two triads pull a massive mirror on sleds. They grunt and groan as they pull, their muscles bulging with exertion. I lick my lips. I watched three triads rush through the gates, gaining the ultimate honor of finding their mates.

It’s beautiful. It’s terrifying. It’s too reflective, as if the world we are in is but a shadow of reality. The mirror surface shimmers and glows. It is set in a black metal holder ringed with Orbs the size of my head. A single one of those Orbs could power an attack Reaver. Together, they can open the rift through reality and let triads go through.

Obsidian raises his hands. Without a creak, the black iron bars in front of me rise. I walk in with Tarak at my side. We adjust to the sand under our combat boots, looking left and right as the other two portcullis gates open. Other triads enter. Two triads come through each gate, but not all are filled. I count ten more warriors. The three behind us are Fanatics.

I can’t wait a second longer. I take long strides. I’ll kill all ten of them to be the first to go through.

“Stop,” he says, and I stand in front of the gate, staring at my reflection. Gods, but when did I become so different? My slate-grey eyes stare back at me. My face is lined by the weight of the worlds on my being. My eyes are narrow and stressed. My chest is bared, and the two half-circles of my brand are filled in by black ink as dark as the liquid that fills my God’s veins. I’m covered in scars. I barely registered the pain as Orb-Blades raked my chest as I was killing Elites and bringing their Orb-Armor and heads back to the Priests to gain my reward. I’ve never met a man I couldn’t kill, until now, but the pacing, massive shadowy wolves don’t put fear into me. I know instinctively they are on my side.

All this bloodshed. All this killing. All this pain. It led up to this moment.

“Three triads have already gone through this Gate. None returned. I saw them. Their bodies are floating in the vacuum of space. They gulped for air and never tasted their Mate.”

My head shoots up to lock in on Obsidian. I watched with deep envy as those warrior triads leapt into the Orb-Gate to earn their reward. Each of them had the twin half-circles on their chest filled in with ink, the mark of great deeds that earn them the chance at their Mate.

I have a tinge of sorrow for them. The horror they must have felt, thinking they would go through to find their Mate, and tasting nothingness as their eyes exploded from the pressure of the vacuum of space, their lungs inverting.

Gasps come from the crowd. Even the hardest among us are shook to the core. We trusted the Priests.

Now we see they are nothing compared to the War-God.

“I alone can see the sands of time. I alone can navigate the perils of shifting through space itself.” Each word rings out like a hammer against an anvil.

His hand moves faster than I’ve seen anyone’s before, and I’m usually the one standing over the bloody body of an enemy who can’t believe my speed. He activates the mace of his father and throws it high in the air, and he leaps over the edge, shifting in mid-air, turning into a huge, shadowy wolf. He lands in the sand, rolls, and transforms back into his Aurelian form, raising his hand and grabbing the mace a second before it splits his skull.

It seems to hiss in anger as he strides towards us, naked, his manhood swinging between his legs. He’s even bigger up close. Only one out of a thousand Aurelians are taller than me, but Obsidian is a giant.

“You saw your Mate.” He speaks to me. My God speaks to me. My heart pounds faster, as I let my religious fervor grow to a crescendo.

“Yes, my God.” I stare straight at him.

He places a massive hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes, and I stare into a blackness deeper than death. Stars go from tiny points to huge balls of fire, galaxies twirl and move through billions of years, and I fall deeper and deeper into space, the Arena of Blood disappearing. I can sense the wonder from Tarak. He’s falling alongside me as we rush towards a green planet.

I snap back to reality as he blinks.

“She is in a Toad Lord’s harem, his toy. There are four Bullfrogs. I will open the portal again in twenty minutes. There are many of them. You may not live.”

“God, grant me the chance to find my Mate,” I ask. My Orb-Blade is in my hand, the hilt warming against my grip as the Orb aches for Bullfrog blood. I activate it, salivating as I stare at the mirror in front of me.