Page 126 of Exiled Heir

“In the ring, anything goes. I won’t be able to step in and help you.” Cade stuck his hand in his pocket again, and I heard the jangle of the collar clasp.

“Okay.” I nodded. Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I asked, “Does it have to be to the death?”

Cade shook his head quickly. “No. If one of you yields, it’s over.”

“But if I yield, it makes you look weak.” I tried to understand the politics, but it seemed grotesque, a holdover from a time when wolves weren’t even people to mages.

“Yes.” Cade hesitated. “But if you have to yield in order to save your own life—don’t hesitate for that reason.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “I’m ready.”

Cade crossed the room in a few steps, grabbing my face between his hands and dragging my mouth down to his. He kissed me like it was the only thing he wanted to do, like he was the one who was drowning.

When he released me, I almost stumbled. “I’m the only one allowed to kill you, do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said immediately.

“Good.” Cade raised his hand and gestured it through the air, like he was spinning an imaginary ball. Around us, the world shifted and shattered, and suddenly, we were in a large open space.

Seating encircled the arena, and most of the seats were already filled. Apparently, news of the challenge had already gotten around, and everyone was showing up to see who was going to win. The fight was between me and Tyson, but it was clear everyone saw it as an answer to the conflict between Cade and Sonja.

Tyson stood on the other side of the ring, having a quiet conversation with Sonja. They both looked up at our entrance, and she stepped back, extending out a hand. He shrugged out of his shirt, handing it to her.

His chest crawled with tattoos, ones that traced up his neck and down to his navel. There wasn’t a square inch of him that was empty.

Cade turned to me, his eyes dropping to my neck. “Do well.”

“You sure know how to give a pep talk,” I muttered.

Cade shook his head and stepped to the side of the ring, sitting down in one of the seats. He crossed his legs and laid his arms along the armrests, his hands dangling off.

“Consorts, are you ready?” Leon asked. He stood in the center of the ring. Sonja walked past him, ignoring me entirely and sitting next to Cade.

If Cade was trying for insouciant, Sonja looked every bit royal, as though she should be wearing a crown on her head. Her back was straight, legs crossed at the ankle, chin raised.

Tyson approached Leon, sneering at me. I came close as well. Leon extended out both hands, gesturing to me and Tyson. “Consorts of House Bartlett, you represent your masters. Fight well.”

He snapped his fingers, and his golden magic crawled up his skin and over his body. When he reappeared, he was sitting in the chair next to Cade.

Tyson didn’t wait. He lunged at me so fast that when I sidestepped, he still got claws into my shoulder.

I circled around him, landing a quick one-two combination on his torso. The second hit exploded, throwing me backward and leaving my skin charred and smoking. I shook my hand, blinking to clear my eyes.

Tyson was on me, grinning, his teeth extending long and both hands pinning me to the ground, one hand around my throat.

“Did that hurt?” he sneered.

“Barely even felt it.” I twisted under his hands, bringing my legs up so they crossed in front of his neck, pulling him backward, loosening his grip on my throat. Then I was on top of him, shifting into a wolf as fast as I was able to.

My wolf came instantly, almost painlessly, tearing my shirt and pants. Before I was even fully shifted, my claws and teeth raked into his torso.

He screamed and slammed an elbow into my chest, throwing me off. I felt a millipede of magic crawl across my skin under my fur, and for half a second, I thought it was Cade. It began burying itself into my flesh, eating away like acid. It burned my fur, the acrid scent almost as awful as the line of pure pain. When had he gotten the spell on me?

Physical contact, that elbow to my chest. That was how he transferred the spell to me.

Basil slithered from my neck down my side, and then my skin stopped burning. It wouldn’t heal—the wound was too deep—but at least it wasn’t eating through muscle anymore.

“Awwww. Should I go easy on you?” Tyson laughed, and he moved forward.