I awoke gasping and felt more aroused than I’d been in a long time. “What in the hell was that?” I whispered into the dark room.
“Watch and learn, child. All is not what it seems.”
Well shit! I guess the voice I’d heard wasn’t my imagination after all. I’d known itwasn’t, but I had hoped I was wrong.
I thought that I’d never be able to go back to sleep, but I was mistaken and drifted off within minutes. This time, there were no dreams, only peace.
Ileft my room early the next morning to head to breakfast. I hadn’t made it ten steps down the corridor before the airshifted. That damp, metallic tang —the scent of blood baked into stone —still clung to the walls. It reminded me of yesterday’s match, and I shivered at the memory.
It was at that moment that Seamus found me. He was leaning against a pillar, arms folded, the smirk already waiting for me, sharp, like a knife he wanted to twist in my gut. “Morning, little champion,” he drawled. “Sleep well after yourgrandact of mercy?”
I kept walking. If I looked at him, I’d lose the thin thread of calm I had left.
“You know,” he went on, matching my pace, “it’s funny. The creature you spared—spent the night screaming in agony.”
I stopped, just for a heartbeat. It was enough for him to see the crack.
“It turns out a Varruk is as tough as it's reported to be,” Seamus added, voice low now, almost gleeful. “They said it nearly broke its bindings. Took six men and the drugging ability of one of the guards to keep it down. One poor bastard lost his arm. But eventually the creature did scream. Over and over.”
The corridor blurred for a second. My throat went tight, my hands useless at my sides.
“You’re lying,” I said, though my voice betrayed me.
He chuckled, brushing past, close enough that his shoulder grazed mine. “Believe what you want, Hawthornebitch. Just know that whatever bond you started in that arena—you won’t be able to finish it.”
He left me standing there, breath shaking, heart pounding like a drum in my ribs. The smell of spiced oatmeal and bacon wafted faintly from the hall ahead, but my appetite was gone.
Several floors below where I was standing, Vee was caged, probably in terrible pain, regretting saving my life against the Cryptfiends.
The tunnels under the coliseum always carried a musty smell of rust and decay—like the very air was spoiled. I told myself I just needed to verify Seamus’s words—that Vee had been badly hurt. I didn't want to disturb him if he was resting, but I needed to be certain he was alright. I descended the stone steps until the torchlight faded and the silence grew heavy.
Then I saw him.
The cell was half-collapsed from his earlier frenzy, bars twisted as if something enormous had pressed out from within. He crouched near the center, much larger than a man—shoulders bowed, head hung low, the shape of a snout catching the flicker of the torch.
Not human. Not entirely a monster either.
The sound reached me first—not a voice, but a vibration that settled behind my eyes.
“You shouldn’t be down here.”
I froze. His lips didn’t move, but the growl threaded straight through my skull much like Pantar communicated with me.
“They’ll know.”
“I had to make sure you were okay,” I whispered, though the words felt absurd in the damp air. “Seamus said you were injured.”
A low rumble rolled from his chest, not laughter—something much rougher, like the growl of a lion. The sound made the torch gutter.
“These weak Aurathions with their perverted abilities couldn’t kill one such as myself.”There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
He moved closer, dragging his shackles, claws gouging the stone. The faint torchlight highlighted the edges of his teeth—too many, too sharp, meant for tearing, not talking.
“You carry the old fire,” he said, his words scraping like claws on bone, “the scent of queens long gone.”
My breath hitched. “You mean Lilibet?”
At her name, the air shifted. The tension between us hummed, a delicate high note that quivered through the cage bars. I watched him turn his wrist—the Aegisseal mark—the tree of life within a circle.
