Page 68 of Wings of Darkness (Daughter of the Seven Circles #2)

Theon collapsed. I sagged in relief. Finally.

He jerked in the wet sand, soft whimpers escaping his mouth.

Looking absolutely green, Oliver sank to his knees next to Theon’s head.

For a moment, I thought he was about to puke on him.

But instead, he unsheathed a dagger at his hip and held it to carrot-top’s throat, signaling he could take Theon’s life if he wanted.

He should kill him. He should rid the world of Theon’s stain. But I knew in my gut he wouldn’t. And after seconds of tense silence, everyone else knew it too. Which meant Theon would wake up and come back for revenge. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday.

“The victory is Oliver’s!” the announcer yelled, riling up the spectators.

The stunned crowd roared to their feet, shouting and applauding. The warriors, on the other hand, had a mixture of emotions. Some seemed apprehensive, others skeptical, and very few regarded him with begrudging respect.

But I was proud .

Oliver stood on shaking legs and walked over to our group on the sidelines. The dagger dangled from the fingertips of his good arm while blood dripped down the other. He still looked ready to spill his breakfast.

I refrained from hugging him and smiled instead. “You were brave, Oli.”

He smiled back with tight lips.

Alexei pounded his back, and Oliver winced. “Nice job taking that calculated wound! Showed your mettle and strategic intelligence.”

Oliver only nodded.

I quirked a brow. “Did you puke in your mouth?”

He nodded again.

Ronen stepped up beside him. “I’ll take you to Sam and find a bucket along the way.”

We still had a weird tension between us and barely spoke. But I gave him a grateful smile nonetheless.

Oliver hesitated.

“Go. There’s one match before mine. You won’t miss much, and thinking about you holding your puke in your mouth is making me nauseous.”

He gave a pointed look to Alexei.

“MJ, Ichi, and I got our beautiful girl, don’t you worry. Go do what you gotta do.”

That pleased Oliver enough to follow Ronen out of the arena. Someone eventually dragged Theon out of the ring, and the next match started. During it, Alexei, MJ, and Ichi drilled me with reminders .

“You either kill her or severely wound her so she won’t get back up. Got it?” MJ didn’t blink, didn’t even flinch. Her voice was cold with expectation.

I gave her a sharp nod.

Alexei slung his arm over my shoulder as we watched a female from the Devils Squadron beat in Cade’s face—one of my squad-mates. “Remember, Moira’s?—”

“A telekinetic. She’ll try to use her powers against me. Keep my head on a swivel.”

Cade stabbed the female repeatedly in the thigh, back, and sides, and used his flaming hands to burn her.

But nothing stopped her metal-coated fists.

I’d never seen anyone, let alone a soul, so unfazed by pain.

And since souls didn’t bleed, she wouldn’t die from blood loss, nor did she care about her charred skin.

He needed to sever her neck or tendons. He figured that out a second too late.

“She favors long-range combat. Anything that prevents her from getting her hands dirty,” MJ explained for the third, maybe fifth, time. “But if you can avoid my arrows, you can avoid her attacks.”

“But be mindful of the weapons that return,” Ichi added in her soft, rhythmic accent.

The Devil shoved Cade to the ground, and he slashed weakly at her heel.

His feeble attempts hardly grazed her boot, and she retaliated by smashing in his face.

Brain matter and blood splattered on the sand.

I had to avert my gaze, unable to stand the sight.

I couldn’t believe the female named Rissa had just murdered Cade with her bare hands and a pair of brass knuckles, winning her spot in my squad .

“Stay mindful, head on a swivel, avoid her weapons. Sounds easy enough,” I said over the announcer’s voice and the bloodthirsty cheering.

But I knew it wouldn’t be. Moira was a vindictive, power-seeking harlot—but she also had the skill to keep her spot as leader of the Tormentors.

It should’ve made me reconsider, made me back out.

But I needed this. If not to show everyone my worth, then to prove to myself I could be more than the na?ve, whimpering female from Elora—from Earth.

“Lucille, a blood-banded Nephilim, has challenged the Tormentors’ leader, her leader, Moira, a blood-banded angel.”

I took a deep breath. My Glory and Infernus hovered just below the surface, awaiting a call that wouldn’t come.

“Go get her, beautiful.”

I stepped into the ring, and Moira walked calmly out of the background of warriors. As expected, she held her head high, hips swaying, the most smug smile I’d ever seen gracing her face. Her weapon of choice: daggers.

Close. Bloody. Personal.

Or they would be, if she weren’t a Dominion.

“Did you finally figure out he no longer wants you?” I mocked, pouting.

Moira threw a dagger at my head. The thick blade wobbled through the air, and I easily sidestepped, smiling as it missed me.

She smiled right back, unsurprised. Why?—

I moved right as Alexei shouted, “Duck!” Flattening myself to the ground as three daggers flew over my body. She must’ve pulled two from the weapons wall .

The crowd booed, disappointed they didn’t see blood. Part of me wanted to fling a middle finger at them, but I didn’t have time. Moira’s hovering daggers were zooming back for me. They dove again and again.

I searched through the thin cloud of grit hanging in the air and found something to help. I rolled to the edge of the circle until I hit the boots of warriors, then jerked up and ripped away a warrior’s shield just in time for Moira’s blades to thunk into the wood.

By her flaring nostrils, she definitely didn’t like my quick thinking. Behind her, though, stood my smirking, healed best friend—and Ronen, with pride in his eyes and a smile on his face.

That smile had my heart racing more than the fight did. After the other night, I didn’t expect that reaction from him. But his belief in me made my soul sing and gave me the courage to offer him a nod of gratitude in return.

Moira twisted to see who I was looking at, and I used the moment to strap the shield onto my back and lusceler closer.

I didn’t have the luxury of endless weapons like Moira.

If I threw my knives and missed, I’d be at a disadvantage, which was why Alexei gave me throwing knives a Dominion couldn’t steal.

Moira turned back just in time to take two blades to her shoulders, right in the joints. I hoped Ichi was proud.

Moira screeched like an incensed demon, and things took a turn for the worse.

I threw two more knives toward her legs, hoping to immobilize her, but they both missed. Her fingers twitched. The weapons wall rattled at my back, and the daggers at her hip lifted from their sheaths .

Oh shit.

I couldn’t dodge all those. Not unless I used my Glory. For a moment, I considered it. But I had another option before I chose that path.

Something hard struck my wooden shield, jolting me forward.

Then a knife plunged through my arm. I cried out, luscelering in a zigzag pattern.

It made it harder for her to land attacks, but some weapons still nicked me.

A few slammed into the shield at my back while I dodged the ones coming for my front.

But I played a dangerous game that wouldn’t last.

My Infernus surged beneath my skin. I strategically called to the bouncing melody as I ran for my life. It answered. The next thing I knew, I was smashing apart her perfectly crafted brick wall and spearing into Moira’s mind.

I didn’t have time to craft a hallucination, so I sent her subconscious a shot of fear and pulled out. Right before I opened my eyes, searing heat stabbed into my stomach.

I looked down to find Moira shaking on the ground and a dagger protruding from my body.

Gasps and cheers rang around the arena as I dropped to my knees. Oliver and Ichi shouted something, pulling my attention. I frowned. I couldn’t make out their words in all the noise. And why did it look like Rune was sleeping at their feet?

But what really confused me was MJ and Alexei.

They were shouting too—but not at me.

At Ronen.

He jerked in Alexei’s hold, his eyes pitch-black as MJ attempted to turn his head away from us.

I didn’t know what she said, but I knew it had something to do with Moira.

Because the way he stared at her—the way his shadows squeezed every inch of his rigid body, darkening with each second—made me think he wanted to kill her. His lover. Or former lover.

Moira groaned on the sand, and I mentally smacked myself.

This wasn’t over.

I glanced down at the knife in my stomach. It should hurt, right? But even the knife in my arm didn’t throb nearly as badly. I think I was in shock.

I moved an inch, then something wrapped around my boots, pinning me to the ground.

What the fuck?

I felt along my boots, unable to twist and see. A vine? Where the hell?—

The vine wove around my hands, securing them to my ankles. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t grab for weapons. I was completely immobilized.

Cyrus. It had to be him. Who else would help Moira cheat?

The crowd ate up the new development. I wasn’t sure they even knew what was happening— or if they could see the vines hogtying me as I leaned awkwardly back over my legs.

Oliver and the rest of them knew something was wrong, but they couldn’t see either.

Especially when Moira stood and blocked their view.

She smiled down at me and gripped my hair, forcing my neck back. I didn’t think her grin could get any wider—until she ripped the knife from my gut, drank in my cries, and pressed the blade against my throat.

“Even when you try, you’re worthless. ”