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Chapter Twenty-Four

RUNA

“I’m going to kill him,” I muttered, glaring at the back of Victor’s silver head. Oblivious to the daggers I stared at him, the vampire rode ahead of me in the bucket of a golden chariot. Once again, Idris paraded us about the pit, each contestant riding in their own magical, driverless chariot.

After my night with the vampire, I’d woken to an empty bed, which wasn’t all that surprising.

What shocked me were the burn marks on my sheets.

Spread around me was a starburst of thin black lines.

On closer inspection, I realized they were burns.

As if one of us had literally detonated at some point.

I had a vague memory of seeing sparks but never imagined it was real .

Victor had some explaining to do, especially since the bigger issue wasn’t the sheets.

Horns blared, and confetti and streamers rained down on us. The chariots formed a tight circle, and we disembarked.

I stomped across the sand, coming to stand directly in front of him. Fists propped on my hips, I gestured to my throat and the shimmering handprint that marked my skin. There was no way he hadn’t seen it, leaving me to deal with the consequences alone.

“Are we not going to talk about this?”

Custodis stared over my head. The only indication he’d heard me was the clenching of his jaw.

“This isn’t the time.”

“Not the time?” I screeched. “We’re about to die. There may be no other time. You branded me.”

“Not the time, Runa,” he repeated in that disdainful voice I’d come to hate.

I slapped my hands on his chest. “Did you notice the burns on my sheets?” When he ignored me, I slapped him again. “You owe me an explanation. What the hell is going on? Did you know this would happen?” I pointed to my neck.

This time, he at least had the decency to glance in my direction. As the weight of his eyes slid over his mark on my flesh, something primal flashed in his gaze. Just as quickly, it disappeared behind that frigid mask he liked to wear.

“I did not,” he intoned, his words so icy I wondered if I’d imagined that flash of emotion. “And lower your voice. There are no less than five thousand eyes and ears on us.”

“Oh, now you want me to be quiet,” I said through gritted teeth.

Last night, he’d demanded I shout his name to the rafters.

Today, I was the dirty little secret he didn’t want revealed.

Was bedding a criminal below the illustrious lord?

Did I embarrass him? Despite the fact I knew I was a skilled thief and powerful sorceress, my heart still took a hit.

Filthy bastard! I was the one with the reputation to uphold.

“What’s wrong?” Drazen trotted over to my side. “Thorne told us the plan, and we need to be ready when the challenge starts.” He frowned and glanced at me, then at Victor, before whipping his eyes back to me once more.

“What the…” He glanced back at Victor and snarled. “You did this? ”

For some reason, he took Victor’s blank stare as confirmation. “I’ll flarking kill you!”

Drazen charged as the trumpets blasted. Sand shifted. The three of us whipped into the air. I dropped to my knees as my stomach sailed into my toes.

Beneath each of us was a semi-transparent, glowing disk. Each floating platform was the length of five paces. I held my arms out and carefully rose to my feet. Scattered throughout the pit, the other competitors floated on similar disks, like we were pieces on a game board.

Idris approached the front of his royal pavilion, a crown of branches gleaming on his silver-blond head.

“Welcome, loyal citizens of the kingdom, to the final span of the Fallen Trials. First, our challengers faced Carcerem’s land.

Then her people. Today,” he paused dramatically, “they will face her beasts.”

A sudden, unsettling rumble made me whip my head around, my heart pounding in my chest. Yesterday, where there were massive statues, today, there were gigantic gates. Gears squeaked, the bars of the metal doors shuddered, and slowly, they lifted.

My issues with the vampire forgotten, I trembled at the sight of those massive cages opening. “Flark, but I have a bad feeling about this,” I muttered under my breath.

“Good people, I present to you my beautiful menagerie,” Idris boomed. “A rare and unusual collection that I’ve spent years assembling.”

He rattled off the exotic names of his creatures as his “pets” emerged. One snarling monster at a time, Idris’s beasts made their grand entrance. Some charged out of their cages only to be brought up short by the chains on their necks. I’d little faith the restraints would remain in place for long.

Most of Idris’s pets I’d never heard of before due to their rarity. Regardless, each was more terrifying than the last. Every one of his enormous beasties had a combination of fangs, claws, spikes, and who knew what else. Goddess forbid the false king keep a collection of cuddly cottonpelts .

The swords each of us had strapped to our backs would be little protection against Idris’s monstrosities.

“And last but not least, I present to you the prize of my collection.”

Golden energy flashed in his palms. Beneath the royal pavilion, a massive gate materialized, this one larger than the rest. From the darkness, a pair of reptilian eyes took shape, framed by a coarse muzzle and a maw of bone-crushing teeth.

Ice scraped through my veins. No. It couldn’t be. They were rumored to be extinct.

VICTOR

From beneath Idris’s pavilion, a massive dragon prowled into view.

Its inky emerald scales were so dark that they devoured the light, casting an eerie shimmer across its hulking form.

Thick, corded muscles rippled beneath its hide, each movement exuding raw power.

Its long neck curved with a predator’s grace, leading to a set of massive jaws—engines of pure destruction, capable of tearing through stone and flesh alike.

Towering over the battlefield, the beast was three times the size of any monster in Idris’s collection.

It was both breathtaking and terrifying—a creature of legend, too rare, too magnificent to be shackled by the will of a madman.

I glanced at Runa to check her reaction. The wide-eyed expression of terror on her exotic face stirred something savage within me.

From the back of my skull, a presence snarled, “Protect your mate.”

I woke this morning, having slept for what felt like minutes, with this voice inside of my mind. The voice, while it sounded like my own, was different, stronger—powerful.

It urged me to do incomprehensible things.

For starters, it had urged me to feed from Runa—to cover her with my seed and plant my youngling deep in her womb as if I’d already claimed her as my Bride.

Which I most certainly had not, despite sharing the most pleasurable encounter of my life with her.

When claiming a Bride, a traditional incantation was uttered, and blood was exchanged. Afterward, eternal fang marks branded a Bride’s throat. The male, too, if he so desired.

Runa did not bear my fang marks. Thank the gods. Claiming a Bride, even if she was my fated mate, was the last thing I needed at the moment.

Still, it had taken every ounce of control I possessed to crawl out of our shared bed.

It was then I noticed the scorched sheets and my shimmering handprint on her throat.

A mark that had left me feeling, dare I say—possessive.

While it was far from fang marks, I’d enjoyed the sight of my brand on her throat.

In that moment, I’d never felt so primal, like one of the lycans in my world that I’d often mocked for their lack of control.

Even now, the urge to grab Runa and slaughter any who opposed me hammered against my skull. My lack of focus only further proved how mates and relationships led to weakness. Right now, I couldn’t afford to be vulnerable. Not when Idris held my life in his hands.

I steeled my resolve. Despite the appearance of the dragon, which currently sat on top of the grate we needed, our plan remained feasible. It had to be. Especially after all I’d done to prepare for our escape. Much to my detriment last night.

I tuned into Idris’s blathering. The more I was around the male, the more I loathed him. Over the years, I’d supported many kings. This one did not deserve to sit on the throne of this kingdom. I sensed it in every part of my body. As Runa and the others claimed, he was the false king.

I shoved my tongue against the roof of my mouth, his voice making me want to claw my ears from my skull.

“ Kill him. Take what is yours ,” the voice hissed.

I shoved the murderous urge down. Idris’s death was not on my agenda. I’d nothing to gain from freeing Carcerem. What did I care about those that had once scorned both me and my mother?

Unbidden, an image of my youth flashed through my mind.

I crouched in a puddle where I’d fallen, hand pressed to my blackening eye.

Neighborhood children threw rocks at me, chanting some horrid song about fatherless bastards.

Their parents looked on, doing nothing while their children abused the son of the neighborhood whore.

Idris’s voice pierced the image, and I shook my head to clear it. “This final challenge is a fight to the death. The last contestant standing will have earned Carcerem’s forgiveness for their crimes.”

Runa’s sister placed her hand on the king’s shoulder. Golden light flickered in the false king’s palms, and the chains on his beasts dropped into the sand. All except for his prized dragon, the one creature who had wings.

I flexed my legs, ready for the moment our torques would deactivate. Beneath us, a dozen creatures licked their chops, eager to devour their next meal. With my alliance of five, that left seven contestants who would love nothing more than to end me. Intimidating odds—for someone with half my skill.