Page 17

16

F ive thousand voices screamed for blood. They always did. The arena had been like this since I'd first fought here five storms ago, but today the noise clawed at my nerves like never before. Because today, she was here.

I'd seen her hands trembling at dawnmeal, though she'd tried to hide it. Now, as we walked the circuit of the arena, I could see that same tremor in how she gripped her sword. But she held her head high, jaw set in that stubborn way that was so painfully familiar. So like Livia when she'd made up her mind about something. As frustrating as it could be, it was a quality I respected in her.

The skorpi's cage came into view, and Livia faltered for just a moment. I saw her face go pale, saw her throat work as she swallowed hard. But she planted her feet firmly in the sand, adjusting her grip on her shield. That was my girl - terrified but refusing to show it. My heart swelled with pride even as guilt twisted in my gut.

Eleven storms I'd carried that secret about her parents, about why our village was destroyed. About who was responsible. At first, it had been anger that made me keep it from her. Sheer, encompassing fury at how her parents had endangered everyone they knew, for some deluded belief that those dark eyed demons wanted anything other than the Empire's destruction. She was only a few years younger than me, but the rage I'd felt inside, I hadn't trusted myself. They were still her parents, however much I blamed them. And then, there had been my promise to Tarus as he'd died. I'd sworn to protect Livia, and I had thought the knowledge of her parent's treachery and betrayal would have destroyed her. It seemed, I needn't have worried. Instead of horror, she'd reacted with understanding, and her desire for vengeance hadn't faded, but increased. I couldn't understand her at all.

I'd barely been able to look at her this last week, avoiding training with her as much as I could. I told myself it was disappointment in how she'd taken the news, but I knew a great deal of it was that I couldn't forget the moments where she'd been in my arms, her lips on mine. I wanted more, and that was so very, very wrong.

The crowd's roar swelled as we took our positions. I watched Livia settle into a fighting stance next to Rena. The woman had been helping her train, and I'd noticed the improvement as well as a growing friendship. Then I saw Marcus catch her eye from across the arena and give her an encouraging nod. Something dark and ugly twisted in my chest at that small exchange. When had that started? When had I begun to hate seeing other men look at her? She wasn't mine to protect anymore, wasn't the little girl who'd cry out for me after nightmares. But gods help me, I couldn't stop seeing her that way even as I increasingly saw her as... something else. Something that made me hate myself a little more each day.

A horn blasted, cutting through my thoughts. The gates were opening. Show time. My gaze drifted to where the half-breed stood with the other gladiators, and bile rose in my throat. Tarshi. Even his name marked him as impure - neither fully human nor fully Talfen, a mongrel trying to belong in our world. The Empire was right to hunt his kind down. We'd all seen what happened when the barriers between our people broke down. Villages burned, children orphaned, the corrupting influence of their dark magic seeping into our lands like poison.

The raids had grown worse lately. Three outposts burned in the last moon alone, their dragons sweeping down from the mountains like demons. Each time the news arrived, I'd watch the crowd in the arena bay for Talfen blood, demanding more executions, more punishment games. And why shouldn't they? The Talfen were animals, all of them. They'd proven that when they'd turned on the Empire that had offered them peace.

I remembered the teachings from my youth: "The Talfen know only violence. They cannot be reasoned with, cannot be trusted. Their blood carries the taint of the old magics, magics that would destroy everything we've built." I'd seen the proof of those words firsthand, seen what their raids had done to border villages like mine. Like Livia's.

Tarshi moved into position, and I noticed how the other gladiators gave him space, as if his mixed blood might somehow contaminate them. Good. At least some people still remembered what his kind were capable of. But then I saw Livia nod to him - a quick, friendly acknowledgment - and my hands tightened on my weapons. She was too young to remember the worst of the raids, too young to understand why we couldn't trust them. Not even half-breeds. Especially not half-breeds, with their divided loyalties.

The crowd's chanting grew louder, more rhythmic. "Death! Death! Death!" They wanted blood today - Talfen blood preferred, but they'd take what they could get. The Emperor encouraged these displays of hatred. It kept the people focused, kept them remembering why we fought. Every time a Talfen or half-breed died in the arena, it reinforced the message: this is what happens to those who threaten the Empire's peace.

The gates began to creak open. I pushed the political thoughts aside, forced myself to focus on the immediate threat. But I couldn't help noticing how Tarshi positioned himself near Livia's group, as if he thought he had any right to protect her. As if his kind hadn't already done enough damage to her life.

The mirage cats burst from their cages first, their silver-black coats rippling like liquid shadows in the harsh sunlight. There was three of them, each bigger than a war horse, with teeth as long as daggers. They moved with an unnatural grace, circling our group as they assessed their prey. The crowd's roar reached a fever pitch as the skorpi emerged last, its armored tail raised high, the barbed stinger dripping venom into the sand.

"Ready, old friend?" Antonius's deep voice rumbled beside me. I felt steadier with him at my shoulder - the big man had saved my life more times than I could count. His presence was like a wall at my back, solid and dependable as the mountains themselves.

I shifted my weight, muscles coiled tight. The nearest cat fixed its eyes on us - strange, metallic eyes that seemed to glow from within. These weren't natural beasts. The Empire's mages had bred them for the arena, mixing regular panthers with something darker. Something that made them faster, deadlier, and far more intelligent than they should be.

A flash of movement caught my eye - Livia falling back with Rena and the half-breed as Marcus led the charge against the skorpi. Smart girl. Let the veterans handle the bigger threat. But I couldn't focus fully on my own fight, couldn't stop my attention from splitting between the cat stalking us and Livia's position.

The cat lunged without warning, covering the distance in a single bound. I rolled left as Antonius went right, our practiced maneuver splitting the beast's attention. My blade scored along its flank while Antonius's heavy axe swept toward its head. The hit should have opened it from shoulder to hip, but these creatures' hides were tough as boiled leather. My strike barely drew blood.

"Watch the tail!" Antonius shouted as the beast spun with impossible speed. I caught its lashing tail on my shield, the impact jarring my arm to the shoulder. The force of it drove me back two steps, feet sliding in the sand. But before it could press its advantage, Antonius was there, his massive frame barreling into its side, throwing it off balance.

We'd fought together so long we barely needed words. I knew when to duck as his axe swept over my head, knew exactly how to position myself to force the cat into his reach. Through it all, I kept track of Livia. She was working well with her partners, using the tactics we'd practiced. The three of them had one of the cats cornered against the arena wall. I saw her duck under a swipe of its claws, saw her blade flash in the sunlight as she struck at its hamstring.

"Livia's doing well," Antonius said as we pressed our attack. I grunted, trying not to sound bothered, but my heart swelled with pride. She was doing well. I focused on my own attack. One, two, three strikes - each one probing for weakness. The fourth found it, my blade sliding between its ribs while Antonius's axe caught it in the throat. But these beasts didn't die easily. It caught my leg as it fell, claws tearing through leather and flesh.

Pain shot up my thigh. I stumbled, but Antonius's strong hand caught my arm, keeping me upright. Blood soaked my leg wrappings, but there was no time to assess the damage. The dying cat's screech had drawn its mate's attention. The second beast turned from where it had been harassing Marcus's group, its metallic eyes fixing on us.

"Just like old times," Antonius said with a grim smile, shifting to compensate for my injured leg. I spat blood from where I'd bitten my cheek and reset my stance. Even wounded, with Antonius beside me, I liked our odds.

The new cat prowled toward us, but a scream split the air before it could attack. My heart stopped.

The scream cut off in a wet gurgle. I spun toward the sound, my heart already knowing what I'd find. The third mirage cat had Rena pinned, its metallic fangs buried deep in her throat. Her eyes were wide with shock, hands clutching uselessly at its massive head as her blood soaked into the sand.

But it was Livia's face that shattered me.

I'd seen that expression before, eleven storms ago, when she'd stood in the ashes of our village. That same raw devastation, that same moment when another piece of her world crumbled. She'd known Rena barely a season, but I'd watched their friendship grow, watched how the older woman had taken Livia under her wing the last couple of weeks, sharing meals and secrets and quiet laughs during training.

Now I watched that friendship die with Rena.

"Livia, don't-" I started, but she was already moving. Rage replaced the shock on her face - not the cold, controlled anger of a seasoned fighter, but the wild fury of someone who'd lost too much, too often. She charged the cat with a scream that held all the grief she'd never let herself show.

"Cover me!" Antonius shouted, already running to intercept the second cat before it could take advantage of my distraction. I wanted to run to Livia, to pull her back from her reckless charge, but I couldn't leave Antonius to face two opponents alone. The conflict tore at me as I parried the first cat's renewed attack.

Through the chaos of my own fight, I saw Livia duck under the beast's claws, saw her blade flash again and again, striking wildly at its flanks. She was leaving herself open, forgetting everything we'd taught her about control, about precision. The crowd was roaring - they loved displays of vengeance, of raw emotion. They didn't care that her fury was going to get her killed.

"Livia!" I shouted again, my voice lost in the din. The cat's tail whipped around, barely missing her. She didn't even seem to notice. All I could do was watch, helpless, as she threw herself at the creature that had killed her friend. Watch as tears streaked clean lines through the arena dust on her face. Watch as she fought with the desperate abandon of someone who'd forgotten they were mortal.

The beast that killed Rena was playing with Livia now, taunting her with its inhuman intelligence. Each time she lunged, it danced away, leading her further from the others. I saw what it was doing even if she didn't - separating her, making her vulnerable. My injured leg screamed as I tried to maneuver closer, but the cat Antonius and I fought kept forcing us back.

"Go!" Antonius growled, reading my mind as always. "I'll hold this one!" He swept his axe in a mighty arc, driving our opponent back to give me space.

I broke into a limping run, my heart pounding against my ribs. The cat attacking Livia had stopped retreating. Now it crouched, muscles bunching for the killing leap. Livia was still fighting with blind rage, still not seeing the trap she'd walked into.

I wouldn't make it. I knew I wouldn't make it. But I ran anyway, ignoring the fire in my leg, ignoring everything except the need to reach her.

The cat pounced. Time seemed to slow. I saw Livia's eyes widen as she finally recognized the danger, but it was too late to dodge. Without thinking, I hurled myself forward, slamming into her with my shield. The impact knocked her clear, but left me in her place.

Pain exploded across my back as the beast's weight crashed into me. We went down hard in the sand. Its claws raked for my throat, but I managed to get my shield arm up. Teeth designed to shear through bone crunched into the metal instead. The force of it sent shocks down my arm, but I'd bought myself seconds.

I heard Livia cry out then silence as the cat's tail caught her temple, sending her sprawling unconscious. The sight of her lying still in the sand sent a surge of desperate strength through me. I drove my sword up blindly, feeling it scrape against the beast's ribs.

Then Tarshi was there, his curved blade sweeping in from the side. The cat had to release my shield to dodge, giving me room to roll. We came up together, the half-breed and I, instinctively falling into position to protect Livia's prone form.

No words passed between us. None were needed. Whatever else he was, whatever else he might want, in this moment we had the same purpose. When I went high, he went low. When he drew the cat's attention, I struck at its flanks. We drove it back step by step, our blades probing for weakness.

The opening came when it tried to leap past us toward Livia. My sword caught it in the throat while Tarshi's blade found its heart. It fell between us, those strange metallic eyes dulling to simple glass.

I didn't wait to see it die. I was already turning to Livia, my heart stuttering at how still she lay in the blood-stained sand. Her face was so pale, too pale. Blood trickled from her temple where the beast's tail had struck her.

"Livia!" My hands shook as I checked for breath, for a pulse. Found both, but too weak. Too shallow. "Open the gates!" I roared, gathering her into my arms. Her head lolled against my shoulder, lifeless as a broken doll. "Open them now!"

Behind me, the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers - Marcus must have finished the skorpi. I heard him calling Livia's name, his voice tight with fear. But I couldn't wait. Couldn't trust anyone else with her life, not even if it were her own brother.

The gates groaned open and I pushed through before they'd fully risen, nearly running into the guards. They tried to stop me - protocol demanded all fighters remain in the arena until the contest was officially ended. I shouldered past them, snarling like a wild thing.

"Get out of my way or die."

Something in my voice, in my eyes, made them step back. Blood dripped from my wounded leg with each stride, leaving a trail through the torch-lit corridors. Livia's breathing seemed to grow fainter with each step. The weight of her in my arms wasn't nearly as heavy as the terror crushing my chest.

"Stay with me," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please, little one. Stay with me."

She didn't respond. Didn't stir. Her skin was growing colder against mine.

I could hear shouting behind me - Marcus, maybe Antonius. Let them come. Let them try to take her from me. I'd kill anyone who tried to slow me down, anyone who stood between her and help. The only thing that mattered was getting her to the medicus before it was too late.

Before I lost her forever.

I watched the rise and fall of her chest, each breath a small miracle. Hours ago, I'd been furious with her - her reckless charge at the mirage cat, the way she'd thrown away everything I'd taught her in her blind need for vengeance. All those careful lessons about survival, about control, scattered like ashes in the wind because she couldn't bear another loss.

I'd wanted to shake her, to make her understand that her life was worth more than revenge. That watching her die wouldn't bring Rena back. The frustration had been choking me, that she couldn't see how precious she was, how many people needed her alive.

But then she'd crumpled to the sand, so still, so silent, and every scrap of anger had vanished like morning mist. Nothing had mattered except the terror of losing her. I'd have given anything - my freedom, my life, my soul - just to see her open her eyes again.

The medicus had cleaned and bandaged the wound at her temple, said she would wake soon. Said she was lucky. Lucky. Exhaustion and frustration swept over me again. Part of me wanted to put her over my knee and teach her what mattered. She needed discipline, needed to understand that actions had consequences. That she couldn't just throw her life away on impulse and vendetta. The urge to teach her that lesson burned in my blood.

My hand hovered over hers, wanting to touch, to anchor her here with me. The torch light cast shadows across her face, softening the bruises, making her look younger. More vulnerable. The sight of her lying there, so still, sent fresh waves of panic through my chest.

I'd almost lost her. That thought kept circling like a carrion bird, refusing to let me rest. I'd almost lost her before I could tell her... what? That she'd become as necessary as breathing? That the mere thought of her dying made me feel like I was drowning? The words felt inadequate, pathetic even to my own mind.

But I had to tell her. Today had shown me how quickly everything could end, how fragile life was in our world of sand and steel. When she woke up, I would finally find the courage to speak. To lay my heart bare and accept whatever came after.

A soft sound escaped her lips. Her eyelids fluttered.

"Marcus..."

The whispered name struck like a blade between my ribs. Of course. Of course it was his name on her lips, in her heart. I'd seen the way she looked at him, the way she smiled in his presence. I'd just been too much of a fool to admit what it meant.

I stood, my chair scraping against the stone floor. My leg throbbed in protest, but the pain was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest. She stirred again, closer to waking now.

I needed to be gone before she opened her eyes. Before she saw whatever raw truth was written on my face. I'd sworn to protect her, and I would keep that oath until my dying breath. But I couldn't let her know what I truly wanted. I couldn’t face her pity.

I limped into the corridor, nearly colliding with him as he rushed toward the medical ward. His face was drawn with worry, with fear for her. Good. She deserved that kind of devotion.

"She's awake," I managed, my voice steadier than I felt. "She's asking for you."

He clasped my shoulder in gratitude as he passed. I stood there a moment longer, listening to his footsteps fade, to the soft murmur of voices as he reached her bedside. Then I turned away, leaving my heart behind in that torch-lit room.

I'd keep my oath. I'd die protecting her if needed. But that would have to be enough.