“For the blood-banded, that is. For the souls in attendance—you can’t die, but if you’re not redeemed, you can recycle. And there’s a much higher chance the Horde will devour you.”
Murmurs swept through the arena. Oliver shot me a wide-eyed look that I mirrored. We were both blood-banded—which meant we could die and be sent to whatever hellish circle our souls ended up in.
“Hell doesn’t have many rules, but our military has two. First, no killing is allowed within your squad. Save it for challenge week. Second, no gambling or betting against fights. Break either rule, and you forfeit your soul to a lower circle of Hell.”
“So I’m thinking you use your clout to convince the king to exempt us from this. We can get stronger another way,” Oliver whispered.
Alexei shot us a considering glance. “Ronen told me you guys had a debt to the king, and you’re living in his castle. Whatever clout you had has likely been used up since he placed you in the Tormentors. That’s our fourth-best squadron.”
Oliver’s eyes widened further, and my skin prickled with irritation.
No wonder the general had looked so unimpressed with me. The king didn’t mention we’d be placed in an upper-level squadron. We were better off trying to make it in the Bowels with the rest of the haunted faces, shaking legs, and non-uniform-wearing beginners. Not… I surveyed the sea of black and red. There was a clear distinction where the lower-level military began and ended.
The lower levels watched the elites with hungry, eager expressions—like they’d be more than happy to kill an elite member to join a higher tier. But the elite squadrons tauntingly smiled back with blazing eyes as if to say,Try and you’ll die.
“Well, what circle do you think we’ll end up in after this?” Oliver asked.
I jabbed him hard in the ribs. “Not funny.”
After the rest of the general’s speech, he called for the squadron leaders to find their groups and congregate. Bodies moved left and right while Oliver and I stayed put, shifting on our feet.
“You both will be with Moira—the Tormentors’ leader.” Alexei gestured to the front, where an attractive blonde stood. Her uniform had an added breastplate that accentuated her curves and cinched her waist. Add that to her heart-shaped face, two perfect ears, and eyes the same crystal blue as Alexei’s, and Moira was gorgeous.
“Damn, she’s hot,” Oliver said.
“Really? Because there’s a noticeablelack of bulgein the area you like,” I teased.
Oliver snorted. “You’re right, she’s not my type. Doesn’t mean she’s not hot.”
Alexei stared at Moira as if she’d put a bad taste in his mouth. “That’s good. She’d eat you alive, spit you out, and then stomp onyour remains. Besides, she only has eyes for one plaything.” He nodded to the general, making his way to Moira. For some reason, their pairing made a lot of sense.
“They look like they could fuck and murder in the same breath,” Oliver commented.
I snorted my agreement as I watched Moira give the general a brilliant smile. He never returned it. The dour male probably didn’t know how to smile since he had a large fist up his ass. Maybe she could soothe it for him like she did his shoulder.
The placement of her massaging touch and perfectly manicured fingers provoked my Infernus. It whispered, flowing from my ears and scattering across my skin. I shook it off and shoved their songs away. “So what do we have to look forward to?”
Alexei brushed a wayward black wave from my cheek. “Nothing good, beautiful. The higher you rise, the more ruthless we are.”
That meant Alexei was at the top of the ruthless hierarchy. But as he shamelessly flirted with me, it was hard to see. His warm smile and the glittering playfulness in his expression saidcharming flirt, nottouch me and dielike the general’s expression always seemed to say.
My cheeks flushed at his attention, but before I could politely step out of his reach, Rune butted between us, forcing Alexei away, and sat pressed against my leg.
Alexei frowned down at Rune, glanced at the general, then waved us forward. “Come on. Better not keep General Ronen waiting.”
“Yay, off to our death,” Oliver groaned.
Chapter
Eleven
LUCILLE
Iknew the moment Moira laid eyes on us that we were screwed. Screwed in the sense that she was about to make our lives absolutely miserable, or we wouldn’t survive the Infernal Sixty.
“So these are the twowarriorsreplacing Matt and Dusty.” Pure disdain bled through her words and leached into her face. Warriors clearly wasn’t the word she wanted to use. Did standing next to General Ronen make her think twice? Not sure why. He didn’t care what she called us, not when he had similar feelings.
“You could place us in the Bowels,” I suggested, hopeful.
