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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

I can’t even hear the roars of the crowd anymore because of how loudly my own heart is beating in my chest. Standing there in the middle of the packed arena, I stare at the male Unseelie fae who stands before me.

Oleander Darkmane is massive. Almost as tall as Draven.

The muscles in his arms and chest strain against the white fighting leathers he’s wearing, the pale color somehow making him look even bigger.

His long brown hair has been tied back in a bun, and his red and blue eyes are practically glittering with wicked anticipation as he studies me.

Two long daggers hang from his belt. But other than that, I have no idea what kind of attacks to expect. There is no way to know what his magic type is before the match begins.

My pulse thrums furiously in my ears as I stare at my imposing opponent.

There is no way in hell that I will be able to knock him out.

If I were to slam my fist against his skull, I would probably hurt my hand more than him.

That leaves killing him, which seems highly unlikely to work for the same reason, and forcing him to surrender somehow.

Mabona’s fucking tits. This is never going to work.

Dread rips at my chest.

Maybe we can somehow trick the Unseelie King into another bargain after this. Another way for us to regain our freedom after we lose. Maybe we can?—

“Begin!”

I suck in a sharp breath between my teeth, yanked back to the present by Rosea’s loud voice. Pulling out my dagger, I drop into a fight stance while I summon my magic.

My opponent, however, doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to attack. He slowly unsheathes his long knives while a vicious smile spreads across his face. My stomach twists.

Gripping my dagger hard, I shove my magic towards him in rapid bursts, testing several emotions to see what I can use.

Ice spreads through my veins as I find… nothing.

Just like when I tried to manipulate Draven’s emotions during that very first test for the Atonement Trials, my magic is met with a blank wall.

I suck in a shuddering breath, unconsciously staggering a step back.

This is a man who has trained himself to block out all emotions in order to better focus on the fight.

Or maybe to protect himself from Jocasta or some other fae with emotion magic that he has fought earlier.

My gaze darts towards Orion.

The Unseelie King smirks down at me from where he is lounging on his throne.

He knows . That fucking asshole knows. It’s no coincidence that I have been matched against this specific opponent. Goddess fucking damn it. He set us up to lose on purpose. Every single pairing in this game has been carefully chosen. The entire deck was stacked against us from the very beginning.

Something thin and black shoots towards me.

On instinct, I leap back and to the side.

My heart jerks as a sleek shadow snakes across the ground where I used to be only seconds before. Landing lightly, I’m already moving before the next attack happens. Shadows shoot towards me, aiming for my ankles, but they streak past through empty air since I dodged before the attack happened.

Across the sand, Oleander narrows his eyes at me.

I grind my teeth, wishing that I had some kind of ranged weapon.

A bow or some throwing knives or something that I could aim at his face, which is the only exposed part of his muscular body.

But I don’t dare to throw the dagger I have.

Both because it’s not suited for throwing, and also because if I miss, I will have lost my only weapon.

Oleander lunges at me.

I yank my dagger up, barely managing to redirect his knife before it can spear through my chest. Metal grinds against metal as his long knife slides along the edge of my dagger.

I flick my wrist, forcing it off. He twists and swings his other blade while shadows shoot for my wrist. Panic spikes up my spine as they brush against my skin before I manage to yank my arm away.

But the move makes me lose focus on his blades.

A hiss rips from my throat as his knife slides along the side of my ribs. Thankfully, the thick leather prevents it from drawing blood.

I throw myself backwards before he can bring his other arm around and try again. Shadows flash after me across the sand. I jump, looking like a startled rabbit as I hop from foot to foot to escape the snaking shadows.

The crowd whoops and laughs from the stands.

Clenching my jaw, I whip my gaze from the ground beneath me to where Oleander is standing.

He has two long knives, superior strength, better reach, and shadow magic. And I have one dagger and magic that doesn’t work against him.

Goddess damn it, I need to think.

The shadows shoot up towards my wrists at the same time as Oleander lurches across the sand. I gasp. Yanking my arms down, I barely make it before the shadows can trap my wrists. But that leaves me unable to block the strike that Oleander swipes at my neck.

I duck, twisting sideways.

A knife whooshes through the air right above my head.

Throwing my arms out, I try to regain my balance again.

Think! Goddess damn it, think!

He recovers from the missed strike and swings his fist, still gripping the blade, towards my cheek in a backhanded strike.

How did I beat Draven when he was blocking out his emotions?

Shadows streak through the air towards my waist.

Diving to the side, I roll across the sand to escape both the fist and the shadows.

An idea strikes me. I shocked Draven into feeling something. I need to do the same now.

Sand flutters up around me like a cloud as I grind to a halt and spin up onto my knees. Oleander is already on me. He lunges, his blades aimed at my throat.

Snatching up a fistful of sand, I throw it right in his face.

He gasps as the sand hits his eyes and mouth, which then causes him to choke. Shooting to my feet, I call up my magic and shove it straight at his chest. I aim for panic. Then fear. Then shock.

Nothing.

A snarl of frustration rips from my throat as I can’t connect with any of the emotions. I need to do something else. Something?—

My stomach lurches as a shadow wraps around my ankle, yanking hard.

I throw my arms out, spinning wildly as I try to regain my balance.

Oleander is coughing and spitting sand from his mouth while wiping the back of his hand over his eyes.

I swing my dagger at his face in a desperate attempt to make him lose focus.

Still blinking against the sand, he barely sees my blade in time to dodge.

His focus wavers as he is forced to yank up his arm and block my strike with his forearm.

It causes his magic to flicker, and I rip my ankle out of the constricting shadow.

My blade barely scratches the leather on his forearm, but I wasn’t trying to kill him with the blow anyway.

Now free from the shadow again, I leap out of reach while my mind churns.

I need to do something else to force an emotion into his chest.

He blinks the last of the sand from his eyes and then advances on me again, fury now crackling across his face.

My heart slams against my ribs.

I gasp.

Then whip my head back to stare up at the sky. “DRAGON!”

A collective gasp rips through the whole arena as everyone snaps their gazes towards the sky. I shove with my magic.

This technique worked perfectly against Tommen during the battle royale trial, and I do the same now, aiming for the bone white spark of fear in Oleander’s chest.

I almost scream when I find nothing.

Quickly dropping the magic, I throw it out towards another emotion. Shock.

My heart jerks as I at last find a brass flame of shock in his chest. Latching on to it, I pour everything I have into it.

Oleander gasps, dropping his blades and throwing his arms over his head, as his shock flares into wildfire.

I dart forward. If I can just get my knife against his throat, I can force him to surrender.

My boots pound against the sand as I practically throw myself the final distance between us. The shock is still wreaking havoc inside Oleander when he sees me coming and snaps his gaze to me. Just another step. Another step and then?—

A fist slams into the side of my face.

The hit is so unexpected, and so powerful, that I’m thrown sideways across the sand like a doll. I hit the ground hard, my dagger flying out of my hand when my elbow smacks into the sand, and I roll several times before coming to a halt.

My ears ring and I swear I can hear the sound echoing around in my empty skull. Blinking, I try to gather my wits. The stands above shift back and forth, as if duplicating and then becoming one again.

A figure in white fighting leathers become visible above me.

I’m so dazed that it takes me another few seconds to remember who he is and where we are. And Oleander uses those seconds well.

Puffs of sand rise up around my body as he drops to his knees over me, straddling my chest. I gasp in a breath, finally realizing that I’ve lost the connection to my magic, and scramble to summon it again.

Two strong hands close around my throat.

Panic rips through my chest.

Yanking my arms up, I try to ram my elbows into the crook of his to break his grip. He snarls. Then black shadows shoot out. I try to gasp as they wrap around my wrists, but only strangled gurgling noises make it out of my throat as he continues squeezing while his shadows force my arms away.

I yank furiously and kick my legs with everything I have as the shadows pin my hands to the ground on either side of my head. But it’s futile. My arms are now trapped and my legs can’t reach him.

Oleander continues squeezing.

The panic inside me clangs like giant bells.

I’m going to die. Oh Goddess, I’m going to die.

Fear washes through me like cold water.

Then it’s broken up by a sudden roaring feeling of fury.

My mind is spinning so much that it takes me a moment to realize that it isn’t mine. The fury is Draven’s. I can feel it through the mate bond. It’s faint, like all emotions that trickle through the bond, but it still helps. That burst of sudden fury cuts through the panic for a second.

I need to do something. Something. Now. Right now!

Calling up a bone white flame of fear, I let it burn before me.

Oleander tightens his grip on my throat.

A whimper escapes my lips.

Black spots start flickering across my vision.

I try to move the flame of fear to his chest.

It balks.

Panic streaks through my entire body like bolts of lightning. I kick my legs, slamming my heels into the sand and yank at the shadows around my wrists. My lungs scream with the need for oxygen.

The fear and panic and frustration and the utter certainty that I am going to die explode like a storm inside me.

I scream in my mind.

I scream so loudly with my entire soul that I taste blood and iron.

And then I shove .

That bone white spark of fear slams into Oleander’s chest with enough force to send a shockwave through me.

He gasps, jerking back and losing his grip on my throat.

Air floods my lungs as I drag in a deep breath.

Pleasure floods my entire soul. It’s unlike anything I have ever experienced before. It’s like a warm hug. Like floating in a sparkling ocean. Like resting on a fluffy white cloud. It fills my entire soul.

Stunned, I pour an unstoppable flood of magic into that bone white flame of fear in my opponent’s chest.

He screams.

And this scream is audible.

It splits the air and echoes through the entire arena as he staggers backwards. His shadows evaporate and his body disappears from mine. I cough and gasp air into my lungs while that intense pleasure courses through me again.

It’s addictive.

My entire soul is just chanting, more, more, more .

I increase that flame of fear that I forced into Oleander’s chest until it practically consumes his entire body.

Urine trickles down his leg, wetting the sand underneath his boot. His eyes are wide with undiluted terror and his entire body shakes as he screams.

Then he cuts and runs.

The entire arena stares in shock as Oleander runs like a bat out of hell towards the door where the rest of our teams are waiting. I stare after him, pleasure still coursing through me while my mind tries to process.

Then something inside me snaps free.

It’s a violent shattering.

Like slamming a boulder through a building.

Walls that I didn’t even know I had inside me shatter like an explosion.

Gasping, I stagger backwards and lose the grip on my magic as memories flood my mind.

My parents. In our kitchen. The broken drinking glasses on the floor before me.

Their faces as I look up. My pleading voice as I beg them not to hate me.

Their eyes… Oh Goddess, their eyes as that slow but steady change starts.

That moment when I can see their expressions change second by second until only deep resentment remains.

The memory that the Unseelie King has been using on me. The memory that I can’t remember having before he forcefully showed it to me.

My legs give out and I crash down on the ground.

Somewhere above me, Rosea’s strong voice booms across the arena. “What a shocking finale! Oleander Darkmane runs screaming off the arena, forfeiting the match. Ladies and gentlemen, with his shocking surrender, we have our winner. Selena Hale and the Black Faction!”

Screams and cheers and whoops sweep across the arena. But I can barely hear them.

Because now, a terrifying question has crept into my mind.

I can create emotions out of nothing. There is nothing stopping me from it. Nothing limiting my powers in any way. I am entirely capable of doing it.

Those crystal-clear seconds when my parents’ eyes go from looking at me with surprise to glaring at me with sudden resentment flash through my mind over and over again. That memory that I had repressed until now.

And all I can think about is that one terrifying question.

What the hell did I do to my parents?