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“And every minute you spend here, both you and your brothers’ life expectancies shorten.”

She exhaled a heavy sigh, her shoulders rising and falling. “And without us, many of the villages will go hungry, falling prey to Idris’s tax collectors. More than just our lives are at stake.”

“Do we have a deal?” I pressed, glad she couldn’t see the sweat that gathered on my brow.

“Yes, vampire,” she said to the wall. “We have a deal. But one misstep from you, and I’ll make sure my brothers and I are the only ones to leave this place.”

I relaxed into my cot, smiling at the ceiling. “Understood.”

Now I’d found my ticket home, all I needed was to facilitate our escape.

Chapter Thirteen

RUNA

Heatfrom the sun beat down on my dark head, and I held up my hand, shielding my eyes. As I strode behind my fellow fallen, sand dragged at my feet. After an awkward breakfast with rumors of four contestants murdered during the night—Victor and I being responsible for only three—our guards gave the order to join the demonstration. As promised, the vampire walked at my side, my icy partner in this twisted game. Time would tell what I stood to gain or lose from our bargain.

What had to be dozens of guards led the inhabitants of Gamma cell into the pit. Around us was a circular stone amphitheater. Four stories in height, it was large enough to hold thousands of spectators. Except, at this moment, it held only a few hundred. Between soaring columns along the outer edges stood several massive statues, almost as tall as the stands. Each depicted an exalted warrior from Carcerem’s history.

On either side of the king’s grand pavilion, a small audience had gathered, though King Idris’s seat remained empty. Silks and gems adorned well-coiffed women and some of the men as well.It seemed some of the wealthiest in Carcerem were in attendance, a.k.a., King Idris’s favorites.

As Milani explained, we’d demonstrate our skills to earn a rating. That score would help those who wished to gamble during the games to place their bids.

Three smaller rings were set in the sand before the gathering of spectators. One for each cell. Next to each ring was a rack of weapons, ready for our use. My brothers lingered at the rear of the huddled contestants.

Excitement and relief zinged through my body. I tensed to run to them, only to find my biceps gripped in a firm hand.

I glared up at Victor. “Release me. I want to check on my brothers.”

“Reveal no weakness.”

“What?”

“Your affection for your brothers is an obvious weakness others could exploit. Given our pact,yourvulnerabilities are alsomine.”

My pulse pounded, and I bared my teeth at the bastard, unaccustomed to taking orders. “Wait until this torque is deactivated. Then I’ll show you which of us is the weaker.”

“Of this, I have no doubt. Excepttheydo not need to know the full extent of your power.” His icy gaze took in the surrounding competitors. “For now, it would be best to let the others misjudge you.”

“So, I’m to reveal no true weakness while pretending to be weak.” I rubbed my forehead. It was too early for his convoluted strategy.

“Yes,” he stated simply, gazing in the direction of my brothers and scowling.

I faced them as well, only to discover Kronk twisting his fists in a snapping gesture while glaring at the vampire. Not one to be left out, Drazen thrust two fingers at his eyes, then flicked his wrist, pointing at Custodis.

Their antics made me grin, and I turned back to the demonstration.

Poised to enter the ring was a shirtless male. A single glance had my pulse quickening. Feminine murmurs from the stands said I wasn’t the only one. Shimmering blue scales glimmered across the top of his muscular shoulders; sweat glistened over his washboard abs. Dark hair, angular jaw, muscular thighs encased in coarse leggings—check, check, check. Though I failed to identify his race, his body was on point.

The—not unattractive—prisoner strutted into the middle of the circle, much as Drazen would have, with a cocky rhythm to his stride, arrogance stamped on his attractive features. The torque around the male’s throat flickered as it deactivated, and he turned to face a stone mannequin situated at the outer edge.

Bones crackled as the competitor twisted his neck and arched his back. He spread his arms wide, inhaling deeply. A fiery glow ignited at the center of his chest. Then, with a forceful exhale, flames erupted from his lips. A blazing stream shot forward, engulfing the mannequin in fire. In an instant, the inferno vanished, leaving only smoldering remnants behind.

I blinked at the statue. The stone glowed bright red from the heat. Had it been flesh and bone, it would be ashes. My jaw fell, and I glanced at Drazen to judge his reaction. My brother watched the demonstration with an upturned nose, unimpressed.

While Drazen’s flames originated in his hands, this male’s seemed to come from deep within. What the heck was he? Murmurs rumbled from the spectators. No doubt, he’d earned a high score—especially from the ladies.

As the next competitor entered the ring, my brothers strode over to us. Unaware of the “no weakness” strategy, Drazen picked me up and spun me in a circle. Once he returned me to the ground, I registered Victor’s irritated growl.