The emperor leaned back, his gaze piercing, as he scoffed. “And who sanctioned that battle? I certainly did not.”
Juls bowed even lower, his eyes darting nervously around the room.
“Furthermore,” the emperor continued, his voice booming across the throne room, “you and all others in this realm answer to me. I can summon you whenever I wish. The great wars are over—I am in command!” His declaration was underscored by a powerful ripple of energy that filled the room.
“I did not sanction your war, nor was I informed of Dominic’s return. You knew my stance, yet you chose to conceal this from me.” Raising his hand, the emperor conjured a whip of blazing fire.
With a swift motion, he lashed out, and the whip cracked across Juls’ back. The room filled with the sound of his agonized howl. “Forgive me, sire,” Juls gasped, “I only wished to handle our problem.”
The emperor growled; his anger palpable as another fiery strike landed across Juls’ back. “You do not decide what problems I should be concerned with,” he snapped.
His fiery gaze then shifted to me. “Domi’zel, you have regained your strength, and your vendetta against Jul’phanar must cease. I won’t have my princes acting like fools.”
I flinched at the sound of my true name—it was like a stern reprimand from a parent, a tactic used to remind every demon of their place under his rule.
“It wasn’t I who instigated this conflict. I was prepared to let bygones be bygones. I want nothing more than for him to leave me and my duša alone,” I countered.
Oz smirked, his claw idly picking at his nail. “Domi’zel, Domi’zel, you’ve been away far too long. You forget there will only be one way for that to happen. Juls must kill you, or you must kill him. You will duel—one on one to the death. This is my final decree on this matter.”
With a wave of his hand, a colossal circular cage materialized in the center of the room—the Ring of Retribution. I gazed at it with awe, yet dread filled my heart. I pulled my mates close, whispering hurriedly, “I love you.”
Their eyes widened with fear and confusion as Oz flicked his wrist once more, and I found myself transported into the imposing ring alongside Juls. Demons crowded around the cage, their roars filling the air. It had been an age since the ring had been used, and their excitement was palpable—they reveled in the return of such savage tradition.
I didn’t have time to take in the enormity of the situation as Juls lunged at me, his spiked tail whipping through the air. I sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the strike, and summoned my swords.
“Running won’t save you, Dom,” Juls hissed, swinging his blade with lethal precision.
I parried his attack and countered, “I’m not running. I’m ending this.”
We clashed with a flurry of strikes, metal screeching against metal. Juls landed a shallow cut on my shoulder, his grin widening. “Just like old times, isn’t it? But this time, I’m not holding back.”
Anger flared within me, sharpening my focus. I dodged another of his strikes and retaliated, “Neither am I.”
Our swords met with a thunderous clash that echoed through the ring. Juls was relentless, but fatigue slowed his swings. I exploited a slow parry, striking his side with the flat of my blade, knocking the wind out of him.
“You’ve lost your edge, Juls,” I taunted, pushing him back further.
Juls growled and launched a furious series of attacks, which I narrowly blocked. “I’ll show you an edge!”
Our battle raged on, with the upper hand shifting between us. Finally, spotting an opening, I swept Juls’ legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. He groaned and tried to crawl away, but I stomped on his tail, pinning him down. He cried out in pain as I stood over him, my sword pointed at his throat, poised for the final blow. Victory was within my grasp.
“You’ve lost, Juls. You should’ve left us alone and never attacked,” I said, my breath heavy with exertion.
He gave a sinister laugh, chilling despite his defeat. “This is just the beginning,” he sneered.
Before I could deliver the final blow, the throne room doors burst inward with a thunderous crash, sending shards of dark wood flying like deadly shrapnel. The air filled with the sulfurous stench of demonic magic as Mal’Zak and Martag led a horde of snarling demons into the room, their eyes glowing with a malevolent fire.
The members of the Pride reacted instantly, their forms blurring and reshaping into massive lions, their roars mingling with the screams and battle cries that filled the air. Lucas’ family, undeterred by the scale of the threat, courageously charged alongside them, their determination etched on their faces.
The room became a swirling maelstrom of chaos and violence, each faction clashing with brutal force, the ground soon slick with the evidence of fierce combat.
Juls used the distraction to his advantage. He kicked off from the ground, sending me flying back against the cage with a heavy thud. As I recovered, he stood, grinning malevolently. “Told you, Domi’zel—this is far from over.”
Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up.Fate, protect my mates, I silently pleaded as I charged back into the fray, ready to save the ones I loved.
Bedlam, Blades, and Babies
Lucas
