Ace and Temple surge ahead, growling and snarling, clearing the way for me, and within minutes, the word seems to spill ahead of us.
Crowds of demons who were converging on the streets leading toward the arena come to a standstill, pressing back onto the footpaths while I walk along the center of the road.
Some of the demons are terrified by my demon wolves, shrinking back as far as they can go, their fear coating their skin in my demon sight. Others hide their eyes from Roman. Still others gawp and some even reach out like the elites did at the afterparty, risking having their hands bitten off by Ace, who snaps his teeth at them. They have no idea how reserved he’s being, deliberately missing their fingers, but I know my fierce wolf well. He’s hungry for their blood. My wolves hunted in the Wilds, but it’s been a long time since they indulged in their favorite food, and I know they’d love nothing more than to inhale the energy of the demons around us.
My sisters walk at my sides, not hidden this time, their armor gleaming in the shining environment. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly, but on balance, they will be safer in plain sight than watching from the shadows since Roman can actively protect them this way.
Not that theywantto be protected. Right now, Malia’s witch magic spins in spheres around her torso, glimmering white spells that are as cold as my nightmare power, and Taniya’s golden talons remain visible, along with her wings, which are tucked into her sides.
After five blocks, we turn the final corner to the arena, and I find Tyrus and his legion of soldiers waiting for me, having already cleared the path directly into the arena.
“This way, Princess,” he says, nearly shouting to be heard over the roar from inside before he leads us toward a wide door at the side of the mammoth structure. “You will start from the eastern platform.”
I refuse to show any reaction to the arena that rests near the center of Zilron. From the outside, it spans hundreds of feet left and right, a circular shape that’s wider than it is tall, although the exterior rises up for what looks like the equivalent of ten stories. Enormous sculpted animals have been embedded across its outer wall: a shining silver horse galloping to my left while a snarling demon wolf leaps on my right. Farther to the right, I glimpse the edge of what could be a sculpture of a glatinate, its wings spread wide.
The lights shining from the center of the arena are so bright that they pierce the darkening sky with multi-colored beams, but the brightness and sound cut off as soon as the door closes behind us.
Silence falls around me.
A long corridor stretches left and right, curving into the distance.
“This path is reserved for the contenders,” Tyrus says, while two other soldiers follow us in and bring up the rear. “You’ll have a few moments of peace before you take your place on your platform.”
The corridor is wide enough for us to walk three-file and I take strength from Roman’s presence behind me while my sisters remain at my sides and Blitz and Luca race ahead, sniffing out our surroundings before circling back.
Tyrus leads us into what looks like a preparation chamber containing seats, a table, and a water fountain. On the other side, there’s another door, this one wide open and leading to a set of stairs.
“Once you ascend the stairs, there’s a separate chamber behind your platform for Lord Rune and your pack to watch the fight,” Tyrus tells me. “But I recommend you say your final words here. The noise from the stadium will be too great once you surface.” He pauses. “I can’t go up with you. I’m supposed to be impartial, so this is where I say goodbye. But only for now.”
Giving me a bow, he turns and leaves the room.
I spin into my sisters’ arms, close my eyes, and take deep breaths.
“We’re with you, Nova,” Malia says.
“Make sure you fuck them up,” Taniya adds, her harpy’s anger in full swing, but her voice softens. “And come back to us.”
Somehow, I make myself let them go.
I crouch to my wolves, each of them pressing their bodies against me, silent energy passing between us.
Then to Roman.
I grip his forearm, but I don’t have to remind him of his promise. He bends to press his forehead to mine for a long moment before he drops the lightest kiss to my lips. That slight touch sizzles to my toes, a promise of what’s waiting for me if I survive this.
I have no more words.
Straightening my back, I turn and focus forward, ascending the steps first.
We emerge onto a platform that’s ten feet square and sits halfway up the height of the arena. It’s open on all sides—no railings or barriers—jutting over the battlefield below. Immediately behind it is a chamber with transparent sides and a top, the front open to the battlefield. Roman, my sisters, and my wolves enter it, but they don’t take their seats yet, remaining standing behind me.
The battlefield below is the size of a football field and I can’t even begin to count the number of seats around it. Thousands. Tens of thousands.
Unlike the Purification, it seems that all demons are invited to this final fight, and the roar of their voices is so intense that I have to shut down my wolf’s senses or risk damaging my hearing.
Taking up position in the middle of the platform, I scan the circular area, looking for the other platforms.
My focus falls first on an open chamber like the one my pack currently occupies. It’s situated all the way on other side of the arena directly opposite me. Harnessing my demon sight and wolf’s vision, I make out Carys sitting alone in it, dressed in black, her golden hair streaming across her slumped shoulders, a veil across her face. Losing her older children was hard, but losing Esta must have broken her.
