Page 28 of To Dwell in Shadows (Shadows of Aurelia #2)

A t the end of a long day of delivering vengeance in the Sanctum, Sam huddled with Selene and other demons on the Bloodstone Plateau, an outdoor stadium and the largest gathering space in the kingdom.

Terraces had been carved into the stone for seating, and below them, dancers from the Legion of Temptation entertained the crowd with a sultry dance routine.

A howling wind whipped through the stadium, tossing Sam’s hair around his horns.

Apparently, today marked the anniversary of the eclipse Asmodeus claimed credit for—one that ended an empire on Gaia. He had commanded his subjects to assemble in celebration, but Sam knew his father’s true motives stretched beyond revelry.

Everything was in place for the first trial to begin.

He felt ready. Borias had been right—his abilities in the Sanctum had improved since his visit to Zaybris several days ago.

Images of each soul’s past deeds came to him more clearly, and he was becoming better at letting the pain of others pass through him without taking root.

He hoped the mental clarity he’d gained would help him to find the Dark Sovereign.

Imps flew about, roughly chasing away roving lost souls, causing Selene’s brow to crease with disapproval.

When she’d told him of her ability to speak with the spirits, it had concerned Sam.

The souls sent to the Sanctum had a specific reason for staying in the Underworld.

But those who were merely lost? They weren’t bound by clear rules or judgment.

To Sam, their presence suggested chaos and imbalance, a crack in the Underworld’s order.

And that unpredictability, combined with Selene’s unique gift, could make her even more vulnerable than she already was.

Selene interrupted his thoughts by gesturing to a demon sitting nearby, who was loudly snacking on strips of dried meat. “Zetta would love those.”

“We’ll have to find her some,” Sam replied.

Though the hellhound was indifferent to him, he was grateful that Zetta had taken such a strong liking to his mate.

Especially since most demons were terrified of the hellhounds.

He couldn’t stay by Selene’s side throughout the day, but knowing Zetta was near eased his fear that she might be tormented again. As she had been by Drath.

Just the thought of the demon of Fear made Sam’s muscles tense with rage.

Yesterday, he’d overheard Mammon bragging that he’d placed a substantial bet on Drath winning all the trials.

Sam hoped he’d have the chance to face him today.

He was determined to channel every ounce of anger and fury he had built up and eliminate Drath without hesitation.

The demon would pay in blood and suffering for disrespecting his mate.

When the Legion of Temptation dancers finished, Asmodeus rose to address his subjects. Sam could tell his father was in good spirits, though his fading ability to project his voice was apparent from the funnel he used to amplify it.

“Good evening, and welcome. On this day when darkness dominated over light, so shall our kind rise!” Asmodeus raised his arms, inviting cheers.

To his left, Queen Lamia gave a noble wave.

When the crowd quieted, he continued. “I have gathered you all here tonight in celebration, but also for a special purpose. The time has come to separate the strong from the weak.”

Selene gave Sam a worried look. “Oh no. This isn’t?—”

“It is,” he said quietly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He threaded his fingers through hers. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

King Asmodeus stamped his hooves excitedly before continuing.

“As you know, I am searching for someone very special, and tonight marks the beginning of a series of challenges. Trials of skill, cunning, and brutality—all carried out to find the demon most worthy of serving this realm…” He paused dramatically. “As my champion!”

The stadium erupted in a chaotic roar. Sam wondered what favors they assumed the king’s champion would receive. Riches, certainly, but the promise of power was more alluring. The demons of Greed were visibly salivating, and several demons of Pride had already began to preen.

Asmodeus raised his palm to the darkening sky in a beckoning motion. “Now, I summon all who hunger for my favor to step forward. For tonight, at this moment, the Infernal Combat Trial begins!”

“They’re really doing this now?” Selene squeaked. “Do you have to?”

“I’ll be fine,” Sam said, cupping her face to kiss her. “You forget I once spent every day battling for survival. This will be easy for me.”

He motioned to Queen Thema, who sat near Lamia, a few seats away. “Will you sit with her?”

“Of course,” Queen Thema said, sliding across the rock to link arms with Selene. “Don’t be nervous, dear girl. How glorious to watch your beloved dominate all the other demons! Let us cheer him on—hurrah!”

Sam joined the other demons descending the terraces to gather in the center of the arena.

His strategy for this trial was to surreptitiously observe any demons who stood out to him— while fighting for his own self-preservation, of course.

He knew the price might be a few bruises, maybe even some broken bones, but securing his future with Selene in Snowmelt was worth every bit of pain.

Ghar, who had traded his usual master of ceremonies duties to administer the trials, stood waiting on one side of the stadium. He drew a line in the gravel with a long, sharpened bone.

“May all who wish to compete stand behind this line.”

The demons complied, and Sam sized up the contenders.

He estimated hundreds had gathered, mainly hailing from the Legion of Ruin and Legion of Punishment.

He studied their faces, searching for some inkling of Dark Sovereign potential, but he saw only expressions of arrogance, bloodlust, or avarice.

Some were already jostling for position, elbowing one another or exchanging threats.

When all the competitors had assembled, Ghar addressed them with solemn authority.

“To compete in the next trials, you must heed these rules.” He produced a large hourglass from thin air.

“Combat will last as long as it takes for the sand to run from the top of the hourglass to the bottom. Once the last grain falls, any demons who remain standing are declared victors. Any weapons on your person are permitted, excluding fire.”

Ghar signaled his readiness to the king. Asmodeus looked down at the contenders with satisfaction. When he caught Sam’s eye, he winked.

Rearing back on his hoofed feet, Asmodeus shouted, “Begin!”