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“Next!” Idris declared cheerfully, enjoying his demonstration of sadistic power.

I’d known and supported some bloodthirsty kings in my time. Idris threatened to outshine all of them. I didn’t believe a being was born good or evil. Most were shaped by their circumstances and driven by their needs. This false king could be the exception.

The next five contestants raced by. Two of them, the crowd embraced. Thorne Blackwing was among the few who passed. Three met a gruesome end.

Sweat dampened my palms. My bandits were next.

Golden light illuminated the athos’s stony expression. Despite the circumstances, he faced the threat with his chin raised. He stared out at the audience, daring them to murder him.

Fortunately, after Kronk’s skillful display with the giant statue, he was a crowd favorite and passed with little issue. Drazen as well. Lucky for him, there were a number of ladies in the audience who found his posturing attractive .

“One spot left, and yet we have two competitors,” Idris drawled.

My heart leaped into my throat, wrestling with the bile I struggled to keep down. The air thickened, pressing against my chest like an iron vice.

Only Runa and I remained.

Kronk and Drazen thrashed in their bindings, calling their sister’s name. Their voices were raw with desperation.

“Blessed goddess, hear my prayer,” Runa whispered, bowing her head. Confessing her sins? Praying it was me that Carcerem murdered? The tremor in her voice unsettled me, threading through my veins like poison.

Then that damned golden light shone down on my head, and I froze. Runa glowed as well.

“What’s it going to be, dear citizens?” Idris chuckled, savoring the moment, relishing the control he wielded over our lives.

“The sorceress…” Runa’s golden beam flared brighter, her expression stark in the blinding light.

The bitter smell of her terror wafted in the breeze, fracturing my insides and waking something primal inside of me.

It stretched and strained that feral part of me I usually denied.

It clawed at my sternum, desperate to be released. Protect her.

“Or the leech…” The king’s energy surged, a searing presence pressing down on me.

I struggled to breathe. This heavy, useless feeling at my center.

It was worse than when I’d faced the Council in the mortal world.

Again, I was restrained, powerless while others held my fate in their hands.

Except this time, I wasn’t alone, having more than myself to worry about.

Instead of rage, there was a tightness in my chest, a jagged sensation in my gut.

An emotion I hadn’t experienced in centuries.

Fear .

I glanced at the woman next to me, and the sensation sharpened, twisting into something unbearable. The realization struck like a crack of lightning, splitting my world in two. I wasn’t afraid for my own welfare. I feared for Runa’s.

It was the first time I could recall truly caring about someone else’s survival other than my own. An experience I loathed—a weakness I couldn’t afford. And yet, I had no choice. The damage was done the moment this fierce sorceress crashed into my life. Even then, our heartbeats had aligned. And I…

I was the fool who’d ignored it.

Who’d denied fate’s irresistible call.

There were some who spent their entire existence hunting for the gift I’d been handed.

Handed and rejected.

I closed my eyes and strained my ears, the piercing roar of the crowd slashing my sensitive eardrums. Icepicks stabbed my brain.

And yet no amount of pain could dissuade me from pinpointing the one sound I craved.

The pounding rhythm that called to me above all others.

Runa’s racing heartbeat reached my ears, frantic and uneven.

My own pulse pounded in kind. A sledgehammer knocked at my chest. Every beat threatened to crack me open and spill my innards upon the sand for all to see. Faster. Faster it hammered, sprinting to a quicker pace.

And then, as Idris’s revolting screen projected what should have been a private, sacred moment between two eternal souls above our heads for all to see—I heard it.

I heard it !

The perfect synchrony of our pulses. Two beats, one rhythm.

Duo corda, amor unus, semper . Two hearts, one love, forever.

I’d lived almost a thousand years and never expected to find the one female who was meant to be mine—and mine alone.

The fates had decided, and their cruelty knew no bounds.

Runa Starborn was my mate .

A sardonic laugh rattled my chest, an edge of hysteria clawing at its surface.

Of course, she was my mate. Only destiny could be this merciless, binding me to someone moments before we were separated for all of eternity.

Given the path my life had taken to date, it should come to no surprise that I would find my mate while the blade of a guillotine’s blade pressed against our throats.

No longer could I deny the truth. No more ignoring how my instincts screamed that the sorceress was mine .

“Runa,” I wheezed, the name sacred on my tongue.

My mate peered at me, resignation dulling the fire that I admired so much in her lavender eyes. “I am the thief and you the clever leader.”

“No,” I growled. She believed she was about to die.

Tears wet her eye lashes, trailing down her cheeks. “Promise you will watch over my brothers.”

“Runa, I cannot—”

“Then lie and make me believe you,” she demanded, jaw tightening, voice steely even as it wavered. “So that my soul may rest.”

“I swear,” I said, and she exhaled, as if surrendering, until I added, “I swear, should Idris end you, I will place his severed head on a pike. Then your soul will rest.”

A startled laugh burst from her lips, tears dripping off her chin. “Not what I requested, but I almost believed it.”

As she should. I meant every word. This beautiful, courageous woman didn’t deserve to die in this manner.

Above us, the magical screen flickered. The ticking numbers settled on their final count, deciding our fates.

“Very well, Carcerem. It appears we have a winner,” Idris boomed.

The crowd roared, but I avoided looking at the totals.

“Victor Custodis, welcome to the final round. ”

The cheers rang hollow in my ears. Darkness splintered my psyche. Cracks formed.

It was a cruel and brilliant game the king played. Even though I’d won, I’d lost. Like Runa’s brothers, I wanted to shout, curse, and thrash. None of that would help Runa in her final moments.

Instead, I met her eyes. She’d not go through this alone. I wouldn’t look away, no matter how difficult it would be to watch my mate slaughtered.

“I’m with you, pet,” I murmured in my most soothing voice.

“Runa!” the sorceress’s brothers roared their anguish.

I resisted the urge to bellow my shouts of outrage, adding my pain to theirs. Runa needed me, and I would not falter.

Beneath the confusion, another sound emerged.

Across the circle, a scaled demon sputtered and gagged. I darted a quick glance in his direction. Blood leaked from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Blisters, like tiny, agonizing bubbles, erupted on his green skin, as if he boiled from the inside out.

Was he dying? My pulse skipped. Hope teetered on a razors edge. Every muscle, every cell strained with the possibility.

I’d never desired another’s death with this level of intensity. Not even Tiberius Steele’s.

“Help. Help me,” the creature gurgled, then fell limp in his restraints.

Slime and excrement dripped from his decimated frame.

The demon was dead.

Gasps and cries echoed from the horrified audience.

Witnessing so much gore had never made me happier. Dare I hope it would change the outcome of the spectators’ votes?

Idris glared at the demon’s bloody corpse, golden sparks flashing in his eyes. Clearly, he didn’t appreciate the unexpected disqualification of an approved champion. He spoke to someone over his shoulder, though there was nobody there. Muttered curses flew past his lips .

It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed he conversed with shadows. Apparently, the false king was both evil and psychotic. A terrifying combination.

Once the king finished with his imaginary conversation, he turned back to the audience, a dark scowl of irritation creasing his face.

“It seems one of our challengers no longer qualifies for the finals. Therefore, the sorceress may remain.” He flitted a hand as if Runa’s life meant nothing.

“This trial is concluded. As a reward, the winners will attend a ball hosted by the queen and I this evening. Long live Carcerem.”

With little fanfare, the bands restraining us dissolved. Twelve competitors plummeted to the ground. We hit the sand in undignified sprawls. Weak with relief, I collapsed, wrecked by the experience. Top was bottom, and bottom was top.

I gazed at Runa, fighting the urge to go to her.

From the back of my head, a deeply ingrained voice whispered, “ Reveal no weakness.” Mates were a vulnerability.

No one could know what the sorceress was to me.

That knowledge would put both of us at risk.

That darkest, most primal part of me refused to endanger my mate, much less myself.

I rose from the sand, locking my legs into place. Drazen, however, suffered no such qualms, racing to his sister and sweeping her into his arms. A low growl rattled my teeth at the sight of another male’s arms around her.

Like a handful of survivors emerging from the wreckage of a storm, we stumbled through the pit, taking note of who’d fallen and staring at each other with dazed expressions of shock.

With Runa alive and well, I was uncertain how to proceed.

Given our interactions, I suspected she didn’t know we were mates.

Nor did I have any knowledge about how sorceresses formed eternal bonds.

I’d need time to process it all before figuring out how I’d handle the information.

So much had happened in such a short period. It was overwhelming, even for me.