Page 34

ERO

M y body moves against my will.

When I try to exert control, it’s like trying to hold on to a greased pole. I keep losing my grip.

I’m rushing towards Circe, my muscles locked and ready to strike.

She matches me, anger and distress in her eyes. Neither of us want this. Neither of us can resist.

A glint of metal tells me there’s a blade in her hand, the cold sensation in my palm tells me I drew mine as well. I don’t remember drawing it.

Sparks fly as our blades collide, each motion intent on a killing blow. Fortunately, we’re more than a match for one another.

Steel sings in the sunset.

Our blades lock together for a moment. With every ounce of will, I try to force mine away. Circe wails through her teeth, trying just as hard.

At the same instant, we jerk back and I feel a sting, a score of pain along my rib cage. Glancing down, I manage to get a look at the wound. Blood seeps into my shirt. I cut myself.

A fleeting second of clarity breaks through the shroud of Ananke’s control, but Circe’s pressing the attack, striking again. My momentary focus shatters.

Jab. Slice. Duck. Leap. Circe’s foot swings towards my face. I backpedal, drop to a crouch, swipe kick. Her boot swings out from under her.

A midair backflip saves her, continuing into a back handspring and away. Barely avoiding my deadly lunge by an inch.

Hot damn, she’s quick.

On my backswing, she catches my blade again with hers. I misstep, pain shooting up my ankle. It’s enough to let me redirect my slash again. It nicks my hand, drawing blood.

I back off, circling.

It’s right about then that I notice she’s done the same. A slice on her cheek, a cut on her forearm, both inflicted by her own dagger.

“Fight it, Ero,” she grits out.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I snarl, and I see that wry look in her eyes.

“I swear to God, Ero. If you kill me, you better avenge my death.” Another clash. We part, bleeding and gasping.

“And if you kill me, you better fucking escape.”

“Not a chance. Not without you.”

We dash in again. The blows this round are almost imperceptible, lightning fast. Twenty exchanges take place in a matter of seconds.

And the pain across my body increases.

With it, my willpower. I’m wrestling back control of my limbs with every wound. Enough pain might just tip the scales.

Shaking off fatigue, I deflect another attack, watching Circe for signs of the same.

She’s flagging.

The look on her face grows distant. Almost drunk. It’s not working on her. If anything, it’s making her battle within herself harder.

Worry flashes across her face as she realizes the same. Ananke’s revelations must be wreaking havoc on her mind. The guilt of slaughtering her own people…

I stack the anguish I feel for her on top of the rest, fueling my rage.

Circe struggles, her attacks becoming more erratic. Frantic. She’s losing.

Brute force and desperation take over. She flings herself at me recklessly. Flailing, exhausted slashes swing past me as I dodge, more and more easily.

“No!” her sob rips from her lips, mingled with hopeless anger.

“Fight it! Fight her!” I scream, bashing her blade aside again. The impact nearly takes it from her hand, the force of my block throwing her back. She skids to a stop several feet away.

I’m shaking, drenched in sweat as I keep Ananke’s order at bay.

Circe screams again, gathering for another assault.

“I’m sorry, Ero, I’m so sorry. I should have never?—”

“Don’t you dare fucking give up!” I howl, straining against my own tendons. “Don’t you fucking give up on me.”

Circe’s body convulses once, driving her to her knees. Her head hangs, hair masking her face.

When she looks up again, I know she’s lost the war.

And I prepare myself to kill the love of my life to save her.