Page 34 of The Gods We Defy (All Gods Must Die #2)

CHAPTER 34

“ T he trial is starting,” someone announces. And I realize I’m supposed to fight now. Fight and survive when my mother… Agony courses through me, through every part of my body, seeping deep into my bones.

“I can’t do it. I can’t ,” I admit.

Arms tighten around me. “You will get through this.”

I shake my head. Does anything matter now? My mother is… I don’t even know if the rest of my family is alive. My friends?

It can’t be true. Maybe Asra was wrong. Maybe… but the look in his eyes. He wouldn’t lie about something like this. He would be sure before saying anything.

A sob rips from my throat as anguish, despair, and heartache rip through me.

Kestral’s hold tightens on me and I look up to him, seeing a fraction of the pain I’m feeling.

“Just make it through this trial and we’ll figure everything else out,” he vows. “There’s nothing I can do right now.” His eyes grow panicked, fearful. “There’s nothing I can do,” he repeats as if to himself. “But I promise you I will do everything in my power to make them pay.” A flash of rage spears across his face.

I should be angry too, but all I feel is numb. Lost. Broken .

A pain so endless slithers deep inside my soul before settling into my bones.

“You can get through this. And when you do, I’ll be right there,” he vows, but I barely hear him as I let the fog wrap around me.

I see nothing, feel nothing.

“Seren… please. Don’t you dare leave me! Fight, I’m begging you.”

I float in the abyss, frozen, detached.

“You can have anything. You can have it all. You already own my heart, my soul.” His grip tightens. “I’m begging you… please do not leave me in this world alone. I need you. I need you more than I need to breathe. More than I need anything else.”

The numbness clears with his words, splintering through the fragmented pieces of me. Only to be replaced by torment.

Anguish. Heartbreak. Sorrow.

It strikes my heart, sharper than any blade I’ve felt, piercing it completely.

I need her . I need my mother. But I won’t see her again. I won’t ever feel her warm touch.

Sadness. So much sadness fills me that I think it’s going to swallow me whole. Quickly followed by remorse, regret .

I should have hugged her tighter. I should have held her longer. Spent more time with her.

I should have… A tug pulls at the center of my chest, and I glance down at it.

“It’s the call. The trial is pulling you to it. It will start hurting if we don’t move.”

I glance up at Kestral as his face finally comes back into view as my mind drags itself from the fog.

“Kestral… I’m nothing without her,” I admit, feeling weak.

Devastation crumples his face. “You’re everything. You’re everything and more. And she would want you to fight. To live.” He cups my face and looks over every inch of it.

A myriad of emotions flitter across his own.

Heartbreak. Torment. Guilt. Love .

“If you can’t fight for yourself, fight for me. Here. Now. And I promise I will fight for you for the rest of our lives. Always ,” he vows.

Fight … the pull tugs again. Harder this time.

I force myself to my feet and nod. Fight… I just have to fight.

Relief fills his eyes as he places my mask on my face and straps my body with weapons.

I follow his footsteps as he brings me along the small passage to where the chosen are gathering.

We keep to the shadows as he pulls me into him. “You are not alone. You never will be,” he promises.

I nod, not really hearing his words before turning and placing one foot in front of the other as I head out into the arena with the other chosen.

A deafening noise arises from the audience as we walk out into the arena. A loud blaring of trumpets and the beating of drums follows as the final trial begins.

My eyes draw to the red splatters of blood and to lifeless bodies as they’re dragged away.

There must have been another fight as a pre-show beforehand. They continue to remove body after body and spread more sand across the arena floor, hiding the blood. Covering it like it no longer exists, like their deaths were nothing. Their lives worthless.

We’re all escorted out and told to bow to the queen before a brief walk around the arena to suffice the crowd.

This is all just a show to them. Entertainment to help them pass the time.

The first sliver of anger seeps into my mind, slowly sliding down my body.

I feel the cold steel of the sword in my hand, not realizing I’ve unsheathed it.

My eyes fall on the little swirl on my hand, reminding me that I’m practically out of time.

Veles said once he found the stone, the deal would be complete, and my mark would disappear. But it’s right there still, staring back at me, taunting me as I continue out into the center of the arena and spread out with the chosen.

Most of us don’t want to be here. Not really. I can tell the difference between us, and the ones who want the fame and glory, standing out while the others try to step back and wait, hoping they’ll survive this last hurdle.

My gaze scans the chosen for a black and silver lined mask. It’s not there, but I know Oryn is. I can feel him watching, waiting for his moment to finish what he started.

I tighten my grip on the hilt of the sword and focus on the fight, only the fight.

A whirl and grind of steel draws my eyes to the left where the cage doors are drawing upward, releasing the god-beasts.

They rush toward the nearest chosen and attack, viciously, savagely. Slaughtering them like they’re nothing.

But I don’t move. Not even when I feel chosen moving closer to me. When they slice their blades across my arm in warning. Across my back and legs.

I stand still, wondering why I don’t feel the cut. Why I don’t feel anything as they attack. Why I’m standing here and letting them.

“Fight, damn it. Fight.”

My eyes flicker to Kestral’s, across from me in the first row beside his mother. He’s standing up, his eyes wide with fear as he stares directly at me, no longer caring what anyone else thinks.

It snaps me out of the fog once more and my eyes find the Queen.

Her gaze is narrowed on Kestral but quickly veers to me, her entire face shifting from anger to wicked delight. Her smirk taunting, promising nothing but cruelness.

My hand tightens on the sword as I watch her, my eyes finally seeing the world around me.

Seeing the chaos and carnage, hearing the clash of steel, the grunts of pain.

My eyes land on the god-beasts. But they don’t come near me yet, too focused on the closer chosen, on the fear they scent as it draws them to it like a beacon.

But I don’t feel any fear. Only pain. So much pain it’s tearing me open and ripping me apart.

My mother is dead. I’ll never get to see her again. Hear her laugh or receive one of her cutting glares. I’ll never feel one of her warm hugs that always brought me ease.

Never. Never. Never.

The pain expands and spreads. But instead of growing numb this time, I grow angry. A small ember that quickly burns. Burning so brightly it ignites, erupting into flames.

The crowd laughs at another death. They laugh and laugh, their eyes sparkling with joy at the chosen’s demise. Finding our pain and suffering entertaining.

The rage burns through me and I block an attack from the nearest chosen without thinking. Twisting and slashing my sword against his chest.

Evading, blocking, and attacking, slicing a path through them as I think of my home in ruins. Of those here that had no choice and fought to make it to this final trial only to die for the amusement of the spectators.

My mother is dead… And like a steel ton of bricks, it finally hits me what that truly means.

I thought I had felt pain. After losing Visha, I thought I knew what that truly meant. With the guilt and torment it brought me, still brings me. I thought I knew pain when I was in the underground prison and how weak and fragile and desperate it made me. I thought I knew pain when each trial and purge and game brought me closer and closer to the edge, when the geas attacked and tried to push me over it.

But nothing, nothing compares to this. To the never-ending, all-consuming agony that floods every nerve and cell in my body. To the deep despair that is trying to crush me whole. The splintered soul that claws at me. And the shattered heart that completely destroys me.

It consumes me, enveloping me, and with my rage still building, I reach deep into that broken, fractured crack inside me and drag it up.

I drag it up and up and feel the hairs on my arm rise as something else rises, too.

Power.

It unfurls inside me, slashing, cracking, tearing its way out. Up and up until dark shadows seep out around me, my Caligo powers finally free.

Glancing around at the half dozen chosen surrounding me, I take that pain, that agony that tries to be my ruin and I hold onto it, letting it gather and gather, until finally, I unleash it.

Slipping through the void with ease, I shadow to the chosen nearest to me, thrusting my sword into him before shadowing behind and then in front of the next. They don’t see me coming. Not until my blade slashes through them. Moving through the shadows before they’re dropping to the ground, to my next target, as I attack again. As I strike, jab, and cleave a space around me. Before looking for my next target.

Again and again, I keep moving, working through any of the chosen that try to attack. Until only those that never wanted any of this to begin with remain.

Them and the god beasts. But the god beasts sense me coming. They sense the blood on my hands and fire in my veins and all turn as one as I move toward them.

Just like the other chosen, they surround me, their red eyes glowing only on me. The other chosen step back and away from the carnage that is about to happen.

Impaling my sword into the first god beast, I pull myself into the shadows and out again before viciously attacking my way through them, eviscerating one after the other. Unlike the chosen, I don’t hold back. I don’t stop myself from beheading, gutting, and crushing each one of them. I let their howls of pain fuel me, the sickening crunch of bones push me forward as I enact a punishment meant for them and everyone else here.

Chaos erupts throughout the crowd, but I drown them out and slip in and out of the shadows, holding onto that pain and rage that consumes me wholly. Using it and unleashing it until there’s only one left. One final god beast.

It’s bigger than all the rest, with twin horns twice the size of the others and a look in its golden eyes that tells me it’s far smarter than them, too.

Thundering hooves move toward me, charging forward with purpose.

It reaches me quickly, attacking with a savageness none of the other beasts had. With thought and intelligence. It’s ability to block and defend and gain ground exceeding them all.

Shadowing, I avoid its next kick, appearing to the side of it, but it predicts my move somehow and I miss its large, clawed hand as it slams into me, throwing me back and into the ground.

Barely feeling the physical pain, my own inner pain too consuming, I quickly get to my feet and grab my sword once more as it moves toward me.

Rage, dark and endless, spears up through me. But something else rises too. A familiar power that feels old and ancient.

Just as the god beast reaches me, my Sidus light rushes out of me, a light so vast it shoves the beast onto its back and keeps it there on the ground.

My shadows rise up and weave in and around my light, gathering, twisting, and changing into something more, something other .

That ancient power builds and builds, but I still hold onto it. Caging it for a moment more as I shadow before the beast and raise my sword. And finally, let go.

A scream rips from my throat as the power explodes out of me, encasing the gold sword as I slam it straight down into the god beast. The power doesn’t stop. Moving from the sword, it spreads into the god beast’s body and limbs, eviscerating it.

Fear spears the god beast’s golden eyes as it realizes its impending death, right before it disintegrates into dust.

I drop to my knees, my entire body trembling. Catching my breath, each one tight and harsh, I realize it’s the only thing I can hear around me.

I finally glance up and around the arena and at the crowd. Only to find every one of them staring back at me in silence.

In shock. In fear. In horror and awe.

And then the whispers start.

“Godkiller...”