I grit my teeth with new anger when Arga doesn’t end the conjured wolf’s suffering. He runs his fingers through her fur as her breathing grows more rapid and a soft whimper leaves her lips.
I close my eyes, wishing I could also block my ears. I don’t care if my reaction is interpreted as weakness. If I don’t take my focus off Arga right now, I’ll rage into the combat ring and kill him.
I’ll fucking kill him.
It’s not real. It’s conjured. Her pain isn’t real.
The real Reaper is powerful and strong. She could challenge Arga—possibly even kill him—the same way Roman could challenge Arga. I tell myself this is Crone’s doing. She would have heard about Reaper walking at my side from Roman’s message to that terrified demon earlier. Crone set this up to make me feel powerless and I refuse to buy into it.
I’m suddenly aware of Koda leaning in toward me and my eyes flash open, ready to defend myself in case he’s going to take a shot at me.
His brow is furrowed, his eyebrows drawn down, his teeth gritted. His voice is a low murmur, barely audible. “I warned you when we were on Centrum, Nova, that you didn’t know who your real enemies are.”
Even if I reached out to make contact, I wouldn’t be able to sense Koda’s emotions, but I’m startled to realize that he’s angry… withme. He broke through the gates to Earth for the sole purpose of escaping the Elimination. I was the one who brought him back. I can’t regret my decisions, given how much pain and suffering he caused, but I now have a glimpse of the desperation that must have driven him to do it.
“If you wanted me to be your ally, you should have tried a different approach on Centrum,” I whisper beneath my breath.
“An ally?” he asks, his voice filled with contempt. “None of us are allies. We’re all enemies here. Don’t forget it.” He folds his arms across his chest. “However, I have no doubt you’ll get your wish tonight.”
“What wish is that?”
“To watch me die.”
I take a sharp breath, but I fix my focus on the combat ring.
Inside it, Arga finally breaks the wolf’s neck, ending her suffering. As he strides from the cage without a backward glance, the wolf’s form disintegrates into nothing, and I’m left feeling cold inside.
I bury my emotions as Crone calls Bera to the cage.
“Bera, first daughter of Jareth, step forward and fight for your life.”
Bera holds her head high. Her power is jealousy and I’m not sure how she’ll use that against Reaper, but she appears as confident as she was at the Purification.
She steps into the ring, her deep-green power shimmering around her hands. She doesn’t have a dagger, but the moment that Reaper’s body begins to materialize, Bera strikes, lashing out with her power.
Her energy strikes Reaper right across her eyes and the wolf stumbles back a step, shaking her head and snorting. Bera strikes again—and again—her fists punching the air, her energy flying into Reaper’s shoulder, chest, and nose.
Reaper backs away another two steps, but with a further shake of her head, she stops, and the deep green blaze that had been growing in her eyes clears.
She snarls.
Bera’s confidence slips. Her power swirls around her in ribbons, spreading so far as to touch the sides of the cage and seep beyond them. The deep-green power oozes across the front row of watching elites, who shift in their seats, sneers on their lips as they eye each other with discontent. Bera’s power might be affecting them, but inside the ring, the conjured Reaper has shaken it off.
She leaps forward, her teeth bared.
With a desperate scream, Bera lets all of her power loose, blasting it across Reaper’s stomach and legs. It merely washes across the wolf’s hide, streaking through the cage bars and into the sky.
Bera’s scream cuts short, and her arms fall to her sides, where she lies under Reaper.
The wolf shakes her head, savaging Bera’s neck to the sound of silence that is only broken by a cry from my left.
Carys darts forward. “Bera!”
She hasn’t made it two steps before Tyrus grabs her and pulls her back.
“Let me go!” she screams, wrestling against his hold.
At the front of the dais, Crone is cold and aloof. “You knew this day would come, Carys,” she says, practically singing through the vibrations in the air.
