I met the guard’s gaze as he debated whether to make my life hell, but his smirk widened as he surveyed the surrounding reds.
He’d relish watching my death more. Nice to catch a break.
The crowd hushed, and those in the tunnel did the same. Every single demon here, despite whatever else they must feel, was determined to win. And I couldn’t let them succeed.
This was my single chance.
I couldn’t feel anticipation. I couldn’t allow myself to fear. I just had to win.
A whimper.
The stench of piss.
A cold voice swept into the passage.
He sat high in the stands, in the royal viewing box.Hesat higher than any demon here.
I’d once had a wart frozen off with liquid nitrogen, and I still remembered my body’s confusion when the sensation became socold that it felt searing hot. That was what this cold voice did to me. I loathed that cold voice more than anything in this realm or Earth. His voice speared through the stone walls enclosing this space to hit me in the chest, and the gut, and right between my legs.
Cold, hot. Chilling, searing.
The cold voice was bored.
The cold voice belonged to a heartless and empty son of a bitch.
But he affected my body like no other could, every part of my bodyexceptmy mind, which I’d painstakingly reclaimed.
I’d never relinquish control of my mind again. To do so would mean my death as surely as this arena could mean the same.
Never again.
“Let Tiers begin,” the demon king announced as he would for each of the game's four rounds.
He’d said the words a total of eight times while we were together.
He would have done so a total of twelve times while we’d been apart.
My shaking inhale drew calculated appraisals from the reds. They knew—as every demon in this realm knew about the woman with black scales. About the daughter of the last king.
They knew I was the mate-intended of the demon king.
And that I hadn’t been seen in three years.
2
Ironically after two months of preparation, I made an impulse choice.
As the gate opened, I slipped under to enter the Crave Arena first. I’d turned this over in my head for two months. Being first into the arena made me super visible to the crowd and the demon king.It also separated me from the other players,and the longer I waited before making my kill for the week, the longer a hunting pack of contestants would have to take me out. But by entering first, I wouldn’t be murdered before even setting foot into the arena. The other players knew who I was, and that would come with consequences.
I had to make it home each night. I’d promised him.
I blurred to put distance between me and the gate. The thunderous roar and jeer of the crowd attacked my senses. Thousands perused my movement like we were in ancient Rome, yet the arena floor was nothing like the smooth, sandy arena inGladiators.Sharp, jutting rocks tipped with dried blood added a lethal edge to the Crave Arena. Between the jutting rocks, the stone ground was slippery from hundreds of years of use. A sprinkle of bone-dry sand on top only made the slipperiness worse.
I darted behind the nearest protruding stone that stood between me and where the demon king watched from his throne.Please be sleeping.
I lurked in the shadows in a partial crouch to watch the gate. The reds were through. They let the purples through unharmed, and the two colors formed a funnel like those I’d associate with cheerleaders clapping their team onto the field. Yellows and oranges exploded from the tunnel in a strategic burst—forced ahead of the more powerful blues and greens still hiding in the tunnels. The screams of oranges and yellows were barely audible over the shrieks of the crowd. The weakest demons met their ends with only a few making it through by sheer luck. Arcs of blood splattered stone and dirt.
Damn,blood could travel far.
