I could see and feel the others’ power as well, of course, but each of them were different and none were like Lark’s. His was a force. Dark and unyielding, pulsing and pressing against the confines of his very being as if every moment he were fighting to contain it, as if he simply released it rather than having to summon it when needed.
Cass’ power was more of a steady thrum hovering just beneath her skin, glowing outward in a constant shine that made her appear even more radiant than she already was. Rook’s power wasn’t so immediately obvious, so overpowering. I suspected it was because he wasn’t Fae royalty like Lark and Cass. But it was there and had its own unique signature. It was sharp around the edges and jutted outward from him in moments of stress or anger. It was fascinating, watching them, seeing their powers surge and retract. But Lark’s. His was practically overwhelming. I marveled at how he kept it all bottled up inside all the time.
“Gambling dens,” Rook announced as if he were some sort of Court of Rivals tour guide. He nodded down a crowded street we were passing full of bright lights and people running back and forth, smoke curling from the open windows.
“And bars,” Cass added, nodding toward the opposite street.
“And that way?” I asked, pointing ahead of us.
“The fights,” Rook answered.
I dropped my finger to my side, looking toward Lark.
“And that’s where your brother is?” I asked.
“He regards himself as the immortal realm’s finest warrior,” he answered with a shrug. “Never lost a match.”
The breath went out of me. Lark’s brother, the one who would be hell bent on slaughtering him the moment their father died, was the Court of Rivals’ best fighter? My jaw went slack.
“Never lost in the ring,” Rook corrected, seeing the concern on my face.
“That’s because the only people who get into that ring are foolish, pigheaded assholes drowning in toxic masculinity and unearned bravado,” Cass snapped, crossing her arms as she glared at the establishments as if they had personally wronged her.
“Tell us what you really think, Cass,” Rook said sarcastically in the silence that followed her declaration.
“I think my brother is a fool. I think he fights in this stupid arena because he knows he can win and he doesn’t have a care in the world about whether or not it’s actually fair to put up some Court of Rivals nobody against a member of the Bone Court’s royal family. I think he’s a coward and a prick.”
It was quiet once she had finished. Rook stared at her with a raised brow. But then Lark chuckled, putting a hand on Cass’ shoulder, and everyone relaxed.
“And I think you shouldn’t say any of that when we meet with him, sister,” Lark said.
Rook grinned but Cass just kept glaring at the fighting dens as we walked toward them. No one got in our way. No one tried to stop us. Hardly anyone even noticed us as we passed, making our way with the rest of the crowd toward the largest area at the end of the street.
I tried my best not to feel small and suffocated amidst the growing throng of powerful Fae but I couldn’t help but feel like a fish thrown into a tank of sharks. Though none of them were looking at me. They were too busy standing on tiptoes, craning their necks to see into the ring. But I was far more interested in the spectators than the fighters. The crowd itself was diverse. Some with skin as white as porcelain, others a glowing ebony. Hair and eyes of every shade imaginable, even those which I wasn’t sure occurred naturally in this realm. Tattoos and piercings adorned bodies more often than not and various styles of clothes were present as well. From shirts cropped above bare midriffs to long, flowing shapeless robes, every type of Fae I could imagine crowded the gates just outside of the arena, clamoring for their chance to enter.
Only my group appeared unenthusiastic. Rook’s eyes were darting about the crowd, less from excitement and more to be on his guard in case anything might happen. Cass was muttering constantly about how much she hated this place and how ridiculous it all was. Lark just stood as still as a statue, jaw tensed, eyes glazed over as if lost in thought. And I, well, I was certain I had the appearance of a deer caught in the metaphorical headlights.
But then the gates opened and the crowd surged forward, rushing us into the arena whether we wanted to or not.
We found seats near the front, reserved, apparently for high-ranking noblemen and families of the fighters. I supposed we were both. Or, at least, my companions were.
A group of girls was chattering nearby about the champion fighting today and I heard Taurus’ name on their lips along with the words sexy and powerful. The amused grin on Rook’s face told me he had heard them as well and, when our eyes met, we couldn’t help but both snort. Neither of our companions seemed to notice. Cass’ and Lark’s gazes remained on the arena where someone was emerging slowly from the darkness at the other end.
It was starting.
I fell silent, held captive by the display as a man strode into the ring, raising his arms high above his head and grinning broadly. The crowd erupted into cheers while, all around me, my companions tensed. I turned back to the man and narrowed my eyes in examination. Sleek black hair cut just above his shoulders, cruel, dark eyes, the unnatural beauty of a royal Fae. So this was Taurus.
And he was naked.
I blinked in surprise as my eyes traveled from his broad, muscled chest to… lower.
“Should have warned you about that,” Rook said with a grin. Mischief was dancing in his eyes as he barely held back his laughter. I cut him a glare and turned back to the ring as his opponent emerged, just as enormous, just as naked.
From somewhere in the distance, someone shouted a word I didn’t understand but it seemed to have been the signal to start.
Taurus’ opponent charged him first and Taurus waited patiently, facing him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. There were a series of moves and countermoves, punches and dodges. They were moving so fast that I could hardly keep track of them even from my good vantage point. His opponent landed a blow and bright red bloomed from Taurus’ nose. He wiped it away and charged again and they were back to landing blows upon one another. The crowd cheered louder than thunder, their stomping feet shaking the stands so that little flecks of dust rained down on those on the lower levels who hardly noticed as they leaned forward, out of their seats, and jeered at one man or the other.
“Why doesn’t he just—” I started without looking away but Rook seemed to expect my question before I asked it.
