At the end of the hall, my eyes cut to the right for a fleeting second. That’s the way Thayla and Creed will take. There’s no one hanging around the hallway, and I swallow my saliva.
That means everyone is in the Chamber or another private room.
Fuck.
The rumbling of cheers and the beat of the music intensify with every step we take closer to the stairwell at the end of the hall.
The vibrations from the excitement below us pulse through my boots, and I grip the handle of my sword more tightly.
Moans and groans travel through the doors we pass, and I grimace.
These rooms are for the victors of the fights.
The pitch-black stairwell welcomes us in, and my entire body trembles as the adrenaline wafting toward us is heavy. The energy seeping through the walls is contagious.
“Stay close to the wall and stick to the shadows. We need to get a good view and see if we can see Riven first before moving through the bodies of people,” Amick says.
Gladian and the others following us all make acknowledging sounds, but I can’t force a nod.
The layout is the same as it’s always been.
There are smaller rings all over the massive room with crowds gathered by their ropes. You have to win your way through these little squares to earn your chance at the big one.
My eyes roam over the beings jumping up and down, cheering on the brutal fights. Unlike in Hellveilious, these fights aren’t to the death. Although that sometimes happens.
The main goal here is to keep the energy flowing. Not continue to kill it off.
There are Dark Gods standing on top of the bar, pouring bottles of alcohol down their throats. One finishes his first and throttles it toward the ground. The glass shattering makes my wrist twitch.
“We need to get closer to the center ring.”
I move with Amick’s words.
The familiar smell slams into me—hot and clinging—thick enough to chew. Sweat and a metallic tang slide down my throat. Beneath it, there’s another scent. One that doesn’t belong yet fuels the emotions flowing through here all the same.
It’s sweet and smoky, like toasted cinnamon.
That aroma digs through my skull like fingernails, coaxing and whispering to the other half of me that continues to fight for control.
The biggest difference between the feeders in Seductions is that one half of them pumps purely seductive, sensual energy.
The others, the ones floating around this room, feed what’s supposed to be the non-sensual side of the Domain.
They feed the desire for adrenaline, victory, ego. Emotions. Their domain wraps around you, making you crave power. That thrill is found in the heat of a battle. Through breaking bones and slicing flesh.
I hold my sword down by my side, hidden from any who may still be sober enough to catch on that we don’t belong here. The massive crowd that surrounds the center ring, though, is far too entertained to pay any attention to us.
My feet fall still as a break in the cluster gives me a perfect view of the fighting ring that has them so excited. The Dark God in the center is swinging his sword around chaotically. He can’t help it.
He can’t see where his opponents are coming from since he’s blindfolded.
My lungs become heavy in my chest as my mind grows fuzzy.
“I don’t see him in any of the rings or on the platform.”
The muscles in my cheek flinch as Amick’s voice attempts to distract me.
“Kyzen.”
