Page 14 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Creatures—no, humans—no, something else—crawled out from the shadows of the gate. They were unlike anything Arenna had ever seen, and by the silence of the colosseum, she knew she wasn’t alone in her horror.

Beasts with gray, smooth skin stalked into the center of the arena on all fours, their limbs bent in grotesque angles. The creatures were twice as tall as Jaksen, their lanky arms ending in four elongated fingers tipped with razor-sharp talons.

Arenna’s knees wobbled, and she was grateful for the railing that kept her upright. “What. . . what are those?” she whispered.

“Druque,” Jaksen replied, pride lacing his voice.

“My prized possession.” Her eyes burned with indignation at the horror unfolding around her.

“Unstoppable. Controllable only by me.” He turned back to the crowd, his voice booming, “Bear witness to what my creations can do. What they will accomplish against our enemies.”

Blood-curdling screams erupted, and Arenna gagged as bile rose in her throat. There were people on the colosseum floor.

Unable to look away, Arenna watched as the smallest druque broke from the circle and charged. It slammed into a man, ripping flesh from his body.

Talons tore through muscle.

Fangs crushed bones with sickening ease, sending blood splattering against its gray chest and dripping from its open maw.

The carnage didn’t end there. The other druque followed suit, attacking the remaining men as they screamed and tried to flee.

It was futile. These creatures, bred from the Sorrows were too fast, too agile, too intelligent.

They tore limbs from bodies, heads from shoulders, reducing men to bloody heaps of innards and shattered bones.

Screams filled the air, a haunting symphony of despair.

The druque seemed to lack eyes yet hunted their prey with uncanny precision. Whether by scent or sound, Arenna couldn’t tell.

The largest creature bared its nightmarish maw, stretching from ear to ear of its humanlike head, revealing rows of vicious fangs. Her eyes darted across the bloodbath below, disgust flooding her as the druque consumed clumps of flesh.

“The men,” Kayson snapped from behind, “who are they?”

“Fae,” Jaksen replied coolly, crossing his arms. “Prisoners of war. Fathers, sons, husbands—males—who dared to oppose me and lost.”

Arenna nearly lost her balance, relying heavily on the railing. Sudden movement caught her eye, and she turned to find Kayson inches from Jaksen. His golden eyes had darkened, replaced by the same oily black she now recognized too well.

The ground shook beneath her, her balance wavering on the stone mezzanine. Only she and Kayson seemed to notice. His gaze locked onto hers, and the intensity of his rage swelled. His lips curled back in a snarl as he reached beneath his jacket.

“Those are living beings,” Kayson said, his voice a low growl. Jaksen smirked, turning his back on the chaos below. “And you just slaughtered them like animals.”

“My creation slaughtered them like animals.” Jaksen’s tone was dispassionate. “Living beings or not, they are Fae. Our enemy. Would you rather I use humans to demonstrate?”

Kayson trembled with fury. Arenna had never seen anger like this. Even Jaksen had never reached this depth of hatred. “This is barbaric.”

“Remember your place, Emissary,” Jaksen spat, his voice dripping with disdain. “You are here on invitation to witness, not to voice your opinions.”

The earth rumbled again as Kayson straightened his shoulders, pure muscle straining against his jacket.

A faint sob came from the direction of the gate, pulling their attention back to the colosseum. A small figure stood at the entrance, shaking with fear.

Realization struck her like a punch to the gut. “No,” she whispered breathlessly.

A devastating scream ripped through Arenna’s throat as she stumbled toward the stairs of the booth. “ FAYLEN! ” she bellowed, but her sister couldn’t hear her cries from this distance.

Whirling on Jaksen, she saw his face twisted in satisfaction, blurred by the tears in her eyes.

Never had she wanted to rip that expression away more than in this moment.

“What are you doing?” Arenna screamed, voice cracking.

“ What are you doing?” She slammed her fists against his chest, fury and heartbreak colliding in every blow.

He chuckled, shrugging off her fury. “Influencing.”

Her world spun around her.

She needed to act. She needed to do something .

Arenna turned and rushed down the steps. A hand clasped her wrist, sending a jolt of pain up her arm. She didn’t care; she just needed that hand off her. “Whatever you’re about to do, don’t,” Kayson snapped. “You cannot save her. If you go in there, you will die too.”

“Get off of me,” she growled, ripping her hand from his grasp. She raced down the stairs, nearly tripping over people in the crowd. A woman’s voice called out behind her, begging her to stop, but she drowned it out.

There was only her and Faylen.

Her lungs burned as she pumped her legs, demanding they go faster—never taking her eyes off her sister, who pounded on the iron gate with bloody fists. “ FAYLEN! ” Arenna cried, her throat raw from screaming.

Blonde hair whipped around as Faylen turned, nearly collapsing at the sight of her sister.

Faylen sobbed and bolted toward her.

An ear-piercing screech erupted from behind, and Arenna didn’t need to look to know the druque had realized they’d left someone alive.

Pushing harder, Arenna stumbled over her gown that twisted around her feet. The wind tore at her, but she wove in and out of the crowd, people moving aside when they saw her approach.

Arenna jumped from the protective railing around the colosseum floor, realizing there was no other way to reach Faylen in time. Her knees screamed upon impact with the dirt, but she forced herself to run.

Faylen was tear-streaked and a mess, but she never stopped running, never stopped fighting. They were only fifteen steps away; only fifteen steps until they could be together.

Three druque closed in, their thin legs and arms clicking as they moved, a sound that would haunt her nightmares if they made it out alive.

Ten steps now; she could smell the familiar jasmine of her sister’s skin.

Five steps .

“Arenna,” Faylen cried.

One step .

Their fingers brushed—but she was too late.

Claws sank into Faylen’s back, curling around her neck. Talons pierced straight through her throat, and blood spilled in thick, dark streams, oozing down the center of her chest.

Arenna froze. Her breath caught mid-scream, her body locked in place as if time itself had shattered.

No .

Her mind couldn’t process what her eyes refused to look away from. Faylen’s lips moved, a silent plea or a final breath, but nothing could be done.

Arenna slowly sank to her knees, forced to watch the druque rip Faylen apart, again and again, until she could no longer count the pieces.

When it was done, the druque let what remained fall to the ground with a wet thud. It turned its attention to Arenna, who stared at the gruesome pile that had once been her sister. Blood soaked into the ground, pooling around what little was left, painting the dirt a horrifying crimson.

Arenna’s hand fisted the dirt beside her, trembling violently. She shook with a rage she didn’t recognize. Heat surged through her body, igniting something deep within her chest. A low hum began at her core, vibrating through her limbs until every inch of her pulsed with fury.

And then something snapped .

A dam within her shattered, releasing heat, rage, and pain that stole every ounce of breath. She panted and wheezed as heat coursed through her, igniting her lungs, her chest, her stomach. Every part of her was coated in a blazing red.

White, searing light flooded her vision. Fire heated her core, sizzling her insides until it erupted from within. Flames that could melt flesh from bone and stone from buildings poured from her hands, her fingertips, her mouth, and her eyes—shooting into the sky like a beacon of light.

Molten power throbbed in her veins, boiled in her blood, and tore through her throat in a cry that wasn’t human.

Arenna was on fire.

Arenna was fire.

Through the red and gold blurring her vision, she saw the druque’s screech and writhe. Their leathery flesh caught flame, splitting apart with heat.

One by one, they dropped, howling in agony as her fire consumed them, clawing at the earth in a desperate attempt to escape the inferno. But there was no escape.

She didn’t stop. Couldn’t. The fire had a will of its own, wild and unrelenting, feeding on her pain, her rage, her loss.

Smoke choked the air. The stench of scorched flesh filled her lungs. And still, she burned.

Until there was nothing left—no creatures, no screaming, only ash swirling in the air like black snow.

Her fire fizzled out, retreating as quickly as it had come.

The world around her erupted in darkness, and she collapsed against the dirt. Her head thudded against the ground, her consciousness fading as the white light vanished. Flames receded, and she fell into an endless abyss of black.

She felt the fire.

She felt the cold after it left her.

And then she felt nothing at all.