Andfuck,was I sorry. Immediately and wholly sorry. But resolved all the same.
“You promised,” he whispered.
“I never promised.”
The words came out steadier than I felt. Because I hadn’t promised. I’d known, even as he’d demanded it, that I couldn’t make that vow. Some things mattered more than promises. Some things mattered more than safety.
Some things mattered more than my own life.
When no other witches stepped forward, because of course they didn’t, Tiberius spoke. “It seems our witches lack courage. Fortunately, we have alternatives.”
Two figures were dragged onto the platform. Prisoners. Their wrists bound.
The first I didn’t recognize. Young, maybe seventeen, with the hollow look of someone who’d seen their world end.
The second made my chest tighten.
Katarina.
Beaten. Bruised. One eye swollen shut. But when she passed me, she managed a look of pure disgust. Silent. Accusing. As if to say:You damn fool.
And she was right.
Wickett stepped closer. “Interesting choice, Syneca Black.”
The way he said it made my skin burn. Not like an insult. Like a promise.
Like he knew exactly what game we were about to play.
Chapter 10
Syneca
The deepest magic requires the deepest sacrifice. The deepest sacrifice is often the blood of one’s own kind.
“The Mortalis will commence at dawn,” Tiberius announced. He spread his arms wide, as if embracing the violence to come. “Three glorious days. Three sacred trials. Let us not forget what we owe to our divine protectors. The Sister Furies brought magic to this world, protecting us from the demons who chased them in the Underworld. They blessed us with power, with purpose, with the gifts that separate us from the beasts.” He clasped his hands before him, the picture of piety. “They safeguarded our ancestors. Built the barriers that keep the Underworld sealed away. Gave everything so that we might thrive in safety. And now, when one of their blessed lines is threatened, we must prove ourselves worthy of their sacrifice. We must show that we deserve the magic they bestowed upon us. The Mortalis is ourgift to them. Our offering. Five Venatori, forged in blood and trial.”
Beautiful words. Noble sentiment. Complete bullshit.
If Vitoria was truly the Phoenix destined to burn the world, why give her three days to disappear? Three days to gather power, to strike first, to fulfill whatever apocalyptic destiny they claimed she carried?
I’d give her whatever she needed. I’d delay them as much as I could. But clearly we weren’t using our brains here. Unless there was more to this hunt than the ugly picture they’d painted.
There must have been. This wasn’t protection. This was systematic elimination disguised as honor.
“You will be housed within the Nexus grounds tonight.” Tiberius’s eyes moved across us, lingering on the witches. On me. “Guards will ensure your safety.”
Someone laughed. I paused, worried it was my own hysteria. Fortunately, it wasn’t.
“Hunters, you’ll take the north tower. Shifters, the east. Sprites...” He paused, looking at the three tiny volunteers like a man considering which flowers to crush first. “The glasshouse. And witches... The undertunnels.”
Of course. Where else would you put the creatures you barely considered people? I hadn’t missed the way he never mentioned where Calder would sleep. As if he couldn’t care less.
Guards surrounded us, separating us by race like livestock being sorted for slaughter. Calder hadn’t looked at me again since I’d taken the platform. Now, as they gestured for him to step aside, he finally turned. Those dark eyes fell on me, but I didn’t crumble. I straightened my shoulders and stared right back. He dipped his chin once before walking off. Because I’d made my decision, and what was done was done.
“Move,” a guard said to me. Not roughly. Just empty. Like I was cargo to be transported. Like I was already dead.
They broughtus down through a door I’d never noticed, hidden behind a curtain of ivy. The undertunnels ran beneath the Nexus arena, a maze of stone corridors that smelled of damp earth. Centuries of terror had soaked into these walls, and the steps were worn smooth by countless feet.
