Page 44

The creature yowls as the blade strikes its flank, and I suck in a breath.

I can feel Memnon’s eyes on me, even as, on the other side of him, Nero chortles, then shouts some encouragement to the fighters.

Say the word, and we will leave.

One of the gladiators screams as the other lioness leaps onto him. He tries to get his blade between them as the lioness’s mouth closes around his neck.

As the two tussle, the wooden gates rise once more, and a third lioness leaps out from one. But it’s the other darkened doorway that draws my attention. From the deep shadows, a panther prowls out.

My heart slows as I stare at the creature.

I stand, every sense suddenly focused on the large cat.

Roxi?

That animal…I touch my chest absently again, my eyes fixed on the creature.

The panther is terribly emaciated, its spine and ribs prominent. It’s so painfully hungry, I swear I can feel an echo of that ache in my own belly. It’s also clear that the animal is too famished to be any real threat, even as its lips curl back and it flashes its teeth.

Without realizing it, I leave my seat and approach the edge of the balcony. Beyond the stone railing, the seating drops away to the arena below, where already the hunt has devolved into absolute chaos.

“Seems your wife likes a good hunt…” Nero’s voice drifts in.

Memnon makes a noncommittal noise.

To me he says,little witch, what is happening?

Can he sense through me that something is off?

I lean against the stone railing, my gaze still pinned to the panther, who so far has managed to skirt around the fighting.

I…I don’t know.My magic continues to beckon me toward the animal, and I am helpless under its compulsion.

I glance over my shoulder at Memnon. The Sarmatian king is standing up, his magic curling in waves around him. The emperor and the rest of the group around them seem unaware that anything is amiss, though I don’t know if that’s due to Memnon’s influence.

Roxi, he cautions softly, like I am a skittish horse. His gaze drops to where my hands white-knuckle the railing, then to the bloody arena beyond.If this is about marrying me, we can burn the document. I—I will leave you alone. Just please step away from the stadium’s edge.

I am deeply, deeply alarmed by Memnon’s words, but at the moment, not even that is enough to deter me. Some magical instinct has taken root.

It is not that…I face the arena once more, where already one gladiator lies dead, a lioness feasting on his innards. I can sense Memnon approaching me when I catch sight of the panther once more.

Resolve settles over me, and with a burst of magic, I vault myself over the ledge and into the arena.

I hear Memnon’s shout as, for an instant, I am weightless.

My feet hit the ground, my knees taking the brunt of the impact.

I catch myself on my hands while, around me, numerous gasps and shouts rise from the stadium.

Across our connection, I feel the sharp edge of Memnon’s panic, followed by resolve. But even that I pay little mind to as I step forward onto the bloody field.

The smell of sweat and excrement is so much stronger down here, as are the sounds of battle. Fighters grunt and large catssnarl, and clouds of dust are kicked up from the skirmishes. A desperate hunger grips me, carving me up from the inside out, and that pressure in my sternum builds and builds, threatening to crack me wide-open.

My attention remains focused on the panther, who slinks around a bloody gladiator, even as another round of shouts rise from the stadium. From my peripheral, I notice the roll of indigo smoke rapidly spreading across the arena, wrapping around man and beast alike.

I’m about to look away from the panther when the creature’s golden-green eyes swing from the gladiator to me?—

Mine.