The emperor’s gaze falls on me, before shifting to Baldric. “My Praesidium guards must cooperate daily to complete their tasks across my empire. Today, you will work together to kill this beast as a reminder of what happens to those who choose not to embrace progress.”
My lips are numb, my knees weak.
I … can’t do it.
I can fight anyone who volunteers for this. Who understands what they’re getting into. I’ll fight viciously and desperately to stay alive.
But this?
Killing this beautiful, majestic creature for no reason other than the emperor wants a show?
I don’t have it in me.
That vampire bitch Elva will eat them, Arvelle.
Leon’s words echo in my head. This was why he cornered me. Not because he knows I can’t kill a trapped griffon. But because he knows Iwon’t.
Baldric doesn’t hesitate. He dances forward, his sword already in his hand, his eyes filled with a dark glee.
Most of the chains encompassing the griffon disappear. But not those wrapped around his wings, pinning them to his sides.
Baldric slashes out, and the griffon turns, but the creature is too slow, and a deep cut opens up across its powerful chest.
The crowd roars, and a slimy surge of nausea roils in the pit of my stomach.
Like mine, Baldric’s power is unrestrained. He could kill the griffon instantly if he wanted. But he’s putting on a show for the emperor, as expected. I could almost understand it, if he wasn’t also enjoying himself.
“Fight!” an enforcer screams, cracking his aetherwhip. And this time it’s my skin that rips open, blood pouring from a thick slice down my left shoulder.
At least it’s not my sword arm.
Baldric slices again, and this time the griffon manages to dodge to the side. But it’s limping, and when it moves, I catch a glimpse of a shredded paw, blood pooling in the sand beneath it.
My entire body breaks out in a cold sweat, a deep, painful ache spreading between my ribs.
Baldric lunges once more, and this time, his sword slides through one of the griffon’s muscular legs. The griffon snaps its beak at him with a screech, and Baldric stumbles back.
The crowd jeers.
“Fight!” The same enforcer is watching me, and with the crack of his aetherwhip, another gash opens, this time along my chest, right below my throat.
I hiss out a curse. The emperor is watching Baldric, a pleased smile on his face. Next to him, Rorrik sits, watchingme. I meet Tiernon’s eyes. He stands behind the emperor. He’s not wearing his helmet, and his eyes burn into me. I can practically hear him urging me to swing my sword.
“Excuse me.”The words are tentative, the voice unmistakably male.
My throat thickens. This is it. The horrors of this place have already driven me mad.
“Over here.”The griffon’s eyes meet mine.“I find myself in the unique position where I must ask you to show mercy.”
My eyes burn.
“I don’t expect you not to kill me,”he assures me.“I have accepted myfate and made this sacrifice for my people. I would, however, ask that you do it quickly. I do not wish to die like this, slice by slice, as entertainment for your emperor so far from my home.”
I want to tell the griffon that he’s notmyemperor. But I choke on that excuse. I’m fighting in the man’s arena.
“I don’t want to kill you.”My words come instantly, and it’s not until the griffon’s eyes meet mine again that I realize he heard me. He must have somehow opened up a bridge between our minds, allowing me to reply.
Baldric dances closer to the griffon and feints with his sword, laughing as the griffon flinches back.
