“Let’s give these bloodthirsty heathens a party they won’t soon forget,” I declared, and Victor nodded to the guards at the gate.
Our enchanted chariot floated toward the entrance of the colosseum, or “The Pit,” as the locals called it. At our appearance, the roar of the crowd swelled until the announcer’s magically amplified voice rose above the chaos.
“Good people of Carcerem. I present to you your hosts, King Victor Custodis and Queen Runa Starborn.”
The cheers that followed were deafening. They vibrated my bones as our chariot set off on a circuit that traveled the sandy area. While Victor and I waved to the masses, memories drifted through my brain. Those of the last time we’d completed a similar trek around this space, as prisoners forced to compete in the false king’s savage games. Today,wewould be the ones who made the rules.
First, competitors would bevolunteers,hungry for glory. Also, the games would be smaller, since I refused to drain the sacred arbor’s magic to put on this spectacle. And yet they would remain deadly enough to thrill the masses.
With our lap of the arena complete, Victor and I stepped out of the chariot and onto a golden platform. A flick of his bejeweled fingers, and the disc we stood upon levitated off the sands. My mate’s arm circled my waist, and he pulled me against him in a way that made my blood race.
Thousands of eyes were on us, but his gaze burned only for me. He bent to my ear, voice a husky rumble. “Have I told you how beautiful you look this evening?”
“Not once.” I grinned up at him, brushing a lock of silver hair over his shoulder.
“Little liar.” He smirked, flashing a tantalizing bit of fang,then turned his attention to the crowd. Together we hovered several feet above the sand, eye level with those seated.
“Citizens and visitors of Carcerem, I welcome you to The Fallen Trials. I am pleased to see so many have returned.” Victor’s god-like power amplified his words, filling the open arena with the polished speech he’d prepared.
I waited with great impatience for my moment. The newly crowned kingdidenjoy the sound of his own voice. Finally, he swept his arm in my direction and nodded.
Energy flared hot in my glowing palms, and magic surged up from my center. Not one for speeches, I shouted, “I declare The Fallen Trials open!” With a clap of my hands, fireworks exploded over our heads. The illusion I’d prepared filled the sky above the colosseum for all to see. In the glimmering explosions, an image of Victor’s kingly face formed. The crowd cheered as it shattered, becoming a thousand sparkling flutterflies that buzzed around those seated. They shouted with delight.
“What do you think?” I grinned at my mate.
“A stunning likeness.” He grasped my hand, our bond sparking between us.
Below, the first competitor emerged from the gates. His chariot was a hulking mass of iron with thick spikes jutting from the front. My brother, Kronk, stood in the back, his brawny arms folded over his gleaming chest plate. Hammered bands circled his biceps, their girth thicker than my waist. Pride welled as the announcer read off the stats of Carcerem’s returning champion. This was the first time any of the so-called “fallen” were seen after competing. Under Idris’ reign, no victor had ever survived long enough to return.
One of the millions of reasons Idris’ legacy of misery could suck it. Victor and I were in charge now.
Drazen arrived next. He glided atop a sleek black chariot that resembled stones found around volcanoes. His polished horns gleamed, gold tips sparkling beneath the lights. Bare-chested, hewore flame-embroidered pants, giving the impression that fire raced up his calves. He blew kisses to the swooning women, waving as he passed.
I grinned, shaking my head. Goddess, there would be no living with him after this.
Despite my concern for my brothers’ safety, it proved impossible to talk them out of competing. I blamed myself. After years of traveling the kingdom together, raiding the false king’s convoys, it wasn’t easy for them to remain in one place. Even if it was a castle.
I didn’t blame them; part of me longed for the simplicity of those days. Being queen with the responsibilities of rebuilding Carcerem had come with its own challenges.
Victor claimed my hand as the next challenger entered the arena. This particular hero was a captain in our growing army. My mate caressed my knuckles with his thumb. “I can sense your tension, Little Thief. Still disappointed you couldn’t compete with your brothers?”
I sighed. “Yes, and no. Back when we were forced to participate for King Idris’ amusement, I’d have done anything to escape the games. But now, I think I would have enjoyed fighting at my brothers’ sides again.”
Victor’s silver eyes turned smoky. “After the trials, you and I can play our own game.”
The husky rumble in his voice did delicious things to my body. “If you believe you can keep up,” I purred. “Later. Time for the next phase of our grand opening.”
With a snap of Victor’s magic, our hovering platform glided across the arena, setting us down at the royal pavilion. Silk banners billowed from the canopy’s columns, framing two thrones carved in the likeness of our sacred arbor.
My mate had slipped into his role as protector of the great tree as though born for it, wielding its strength with effortlesscommand. Through my bond with him, his control deepened, the tree’s ancient magic answering.
Another flick of his fingers and the lesser-known challengers entered the pit. Dozens of high-ranking champions exited their chariots, joining the masses.
“Ready?” Victor took my hand, and power ignited between us. Together, we pulled a sliver of strength from the sacred tree and wove it into the spectacle. Soon, we’d give the crowd a taste of what awaited them. An illusion of the creatures the competitors would face tomorrow—a glimpse of the terrors I would conjure, made real by Carcerem’s rightful king.
Our fingers laced, magic sparking as if the air itself rejoiced in our bond. Joined as one, we raised our arms high, light shimmering between our palms. For an instant, all Carcerem waited for the spectacle with their breath held.
“On the count of—”
