They each hit the dirt, and they don’t get back up, screaming as they clutch their burning flesh. Some of the orbs shatter as they hit the ground, but I refuse to feel guilty.
Ican’tfeel guilty.
I catch sight of a man with red hair right as he smashes the orb of the man standing next to him. I recognize them both.Norin has just smashedTee’sorb. Tee, who was supposed to be hisfriend.Or at the very least, his ally.
Tee prepares to charge him, nothing but fury in his eyes at the betrayal, but before he can, Enforcers grab him by the shoulders, and he’s dragged away, too.
Norin’s gaze meets mine, a cruel smirk twisting his lips, curling over his teeth and reaching his wicked eyes.
Fuck it.
This ends.Now.
I sprint across the field, eyes locked on his. Fire crackles in my palms as I push forward, faster than I even knew I could move.
His face pales.
I don’t need my flames to take Norin down. I never did. The fire disappears right as I reach him.
He tilts his head, hugging his orb to his chest, and I smirk.
“Ready when you are,” I say, cradling my own orb with my left hand, positioning myself to strike with my right.
“No flames?” His brow lifts, his grin returning.
“Where would be the fun in that?” My smile matches his, but then he bends over, his fingers slipping into the side of his tall boot.
The steel catches the sun as he holds it out in front of him.
My blade.
How the hell did he get that in here? Weapons aren’t allowed unless provided by the trial coordinators. This is against the rules, but when my eyes scan the Enforcers lining the edge of the arena, I realize not a single one of them gives a damn.
I shake my head, refocusing on the man before me and the sheer audacity of him wielding my own weapon against me.
But I still don’t need my flames.I know exactly where I need to strike.
Norin lunges, slashing the blade in a wide arc, but I pivot before dropping low, dodging the strike. His hand hovers above my head for a fraction of a second, but that’s all the time I need.
I drive my fingers into the nerve cluster just above his wrist. A sharp exhale hisses through his teeth, and his grip falters. I twist his hand just enough to send a jolt of pain shooting up his arm, and he stumbles before dropping the blade.
I snatch it from the ground, and satisfaction floods through me as I jam my elbow into his rib cage. Before he can recover, I’m behind him, slamming my foot against the back of his knee.
He drops like a stone. His breath ragged, his orb still clutched to his chest.But it won’t be for long.
I press my blade against the curve of his throat.
“It’s over,” I say, my voice steady and controlled. “Drop the orb.”
His breathing intensifies. We both know what will happen if he complies.
But before he has the chance, a loud creak echoes from the north side of the arena.
I freeze, my blade still at Norin’s throat, but my eyes pinned on the origin of the sound. The iron bars of a massive gate swing open, revealing a pitch-black tunnel, and Norin takes advantage of thedistraction, throwing his head back against my chest, sending me flying backward.
He scrambles to his feet before I can fully process and sprints toward the edge of the arena.
I could go after him, but I don’t. I don’t because something’s wrong.
