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As Adriana’s terror washes over me, I push out all cowardice. I radiate my calm to her in waves to reassure her.

There is no room for doubt. I open my mouth to breathe, but there is no air or need for it here. The smell of her is gone, then my battle-brothers blink out of existence, one by one, and there is only darkness, darkness and my own awareness.

Even in this place, I can feel them, the four auras of my triad and my Mate, raging against the night.

But it’s not perfectly dark. There’s a blue-black glow, and I wonder at where it’s coming from before my blade returns, phantom lips curling back against where my teeth should be as the bones of skeletal hand curl around the hilt. My flesh materializes, and hers, and Titus and Gallien blink back into existence at the same time as our Reaver reappears.

Instead of endless stars through the viewing glass, the black stone walls rise up. We’re on Obsidious now, in the heart of the Fanatics, and we only get out of here by spilling the blood of their God.

I am in the Arena of Blood, my Reaver touched down as soft as if I had piloted it myself on the black sands. The stealth ship shimmers as reality bends around it. He brought my brother safely, along with his Mate.

The stands are packed with silent, staring triads of Aurelians who look down at my ship with venom. Their black brands mar their ivory skin, each of them pledging their undying loyalty to their God.

From a hundred feet above, the black shadow dives from his throne. He lands with a dull thud, then stands to his full height across the arena, waiting for my triad to come out and challenge him.

“I will not fail. Not with you in my mind, Adriana. Not with your Bond giving me strength.” I speak to her, but my eyes are locked with the twin black pools of oblivion that stare at me from across the obsidian sands. I can feel her terror. She can’t controlit, and it seeps out, poisonous. Not even my own Mate thinks I can cut down the War-God.

Blade in my hand, my triad in battle formation, we exit the Reaver. I test the ground, feeling the give of the thirsting sands. There is no wind, and the heavy, ancient sun casts a pall of heat. My triad forms in battle stance, facing him down from across the black sands. I can see each grain, my senses hyper-focused by the Bond.

But he is Bonded as well.

Obsidian paces, his head turned to watch me as he strides back and forth. There is no anger in his twisted visage, no hate in his cold black eyes. The crowd is silent. Feverish eyes witness their God. The packed masses of branded warriors in black togas fade into the background.

The hush. The coolness. The perfect silence. My life has been leading to this moment, from when my forefathers handed me my blade. It was always coming to this. I dove into my fate, but the rivers would have brought me here, across from him, had I fought my destiny.

I ready myself to kill, to die. I find my perfect blankness, the battle-calm honed since Academy.

I find it, and my triad’s auras match mine, glacial, but I grit my teeth as the ice splinters. I’m infected by her. Her terror frays at my resolve.

I have more to lose than my life. My future with her depends on my blade, but I can’t back down now. I can end this war in a single blow, end the slaughter, end the slow death of my people as we are ground into dust.

Obsidian stops dead center across the arena. “It was always going to be this way,” he states. The scars from the nuclear blast ruin his once-perfect ivory skin, and his heart pumps black blood through his cursed veins.

His blade activates. The three hums of my triad’s Orb-Blades respond. From the corner of my eye, I see the pulse of my own Orb in the hilt of my blade. It’s eager. It drank of Scorp-blood, then the blood of my brothers, branded Aurelians falling before my blade.

Now it hungers to sate itself in the heart-blood of the War-God himself.

I don’t need to look to my left and right to feel my battle-brothers. They are ready, and so am I.

In unison, we charge.

45

ADRIANA

Obsidian is alone in the arena, without his wolves at his side. He’s still a monster. Taller even than Doman, and heavy, with flesh riddled with scars and burns from the nuclear blast. Dull thuds I more feel than hear as he charges, feet pounding against the sands as he rushes towards my triad.

My hand presses against the glass for support as I watch my triad meet his charge, sprinting towards the center of the arena where they meet him. The awful shriek as Orb-Blade meets Orb-Blade, the blue-black energy blades fighting for dominance, then Obsidian has twisted past Doman, his body like liquid as he narrowly avoids Gallien and Titus’ swings.

The beast is unscathed, no new cuts added to the network of scars that run down half his body. The War-God wears only a fur loincloth, and his muscles ripple as he turns to meet my triad, his veins pulsing with black blood. My mind is full of the three auras at peak concentration, electric tension in their being as they face their foe.

I try to control my fear, try to push it from my mind, knowing it will only distract my men. I can’t. My heart is pounding, sweat dripping, my mouth dry.

They form a half-circle, trying to flank him, and Obsidian slowly backs up towards me. His hand flicks, too quick to fully see, and a gasp escapes my lips as Gallien has to dart back. The tip of Obsidian’s blade sears his chest. Titus takes the chance to rush forward, bringing his blade down with a roar, but Obsidian slides to the side, as if he can see where the strike was placed before Titus swung.

Blades whirl, but every time my triad strikes, he’s gone, his huge body twisting, his blade rising at the last second to parry a thrust I thought would end the monster.

My heart pounds. Can Obsidian see the future in those black eyes that have pierced the veil of the Rift? He slides back in the sand as Titus tries to land a blow, and his blade sweeps in an arc, catching Titus on the thigh and rending his flesh. Red blood spurts against his ivory skin, and primal horror consumes me. I try to control it, because I know it’s seeping into my triad, but I can’t.