Chapter 13
Shadow
“Y ou are lucky it was me who walked in on you two the other night,” Aryx muttered as we made our way toward the empress’s private atrium.
I side-eyed him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh,” he drawled.
Two females walked by us, their eyes fixed straight ahead.
When they were out of earshot, I spoke in a hushed tone, “There is nothing between me and the priestess, nor will there ever be.”
“And it better stay that way, for her sake, as well as your own,” he warned just before we walked through the red, silk drapery that hung from the arched entrance.
Raucous female laughter and sensual music greeted us as we stepped inside the dim, candlelit room.
Incense burned, filling the air with the scent of jasmine.
It was the empress’s favorite scent, one I could trace back as far as my memory could reach, back to when I was a young immortal.
She always had it burning during events like these or in her private chambers, saying it evoked feelings of passion and joy.
But to me?
It reminded me of repression. Of late nights and unwanted touches.
I hated the scent of jasmine.
In the middle of the atrium was a circular pool of water, an opening in the ceiling directly above it, the same size and shape as the pool below. When rain poured from the heavens, it would fill the basin. Females, most of whom were scantily dressed, stood around the room, goblets in hand.
At the far end, there was a stage that reached the height of my waist. A canopy bed, large enough to fit four of me—and I was no small male—was placed on top of it. The drapes were pulled to the sides, revealing the immortal resting on it—
The empress.
Small, delicate chains draped from her neck toward her breasts, pooling at her sex.
The dress, if it could even be called that, was a masterpiece, designed to keep one’s gaze roving all over her, taking in all of her body.
Judging by the way the small crowd snuck little looks at her, it was working.
The empress cooled herself with a handheld fan. When her eyes met mine, a smile curved her painted lips. She snapped the fan closed, directed it toward me, and said proudly, “Everyone, feast your eyes upon my undefeated champion, Shadow the Soul Slayer.”
Heads swiveled my way, followed by swift clapping. Some women cupped their hands over their mouths, whispering to those standing beside them. Despite their lowered voices, it was easy to hear what they were saying—
“I heard he’s crushed one thousand souls.”
“Surely, it must be more than that.”
“Who cares how many. Look at all those rippling muscles.”
Aryx chuckled, having heard that one too.
I remained stoic, letting them gaze upon my flesh, slick with oil—as per the empress’s request. She liked her possessions to be glistening and shiny, just like the sparkling diamonds hanging from her antlers. A tool to impress. That was all we were.
Unlike the females and the clothes they had painstakingly picked out for tonight’s festivities, I had not been afforded the choice.
In public, my muscles were always to be on display, and so my attire was rather simple.
A pair of sandals, a bit of canvas loincloth—held in place by my belt—and my mask.
The belt was crafted from a wide band of metal-reinforced leather.
Engraved into the front was a meticulous piece of artwork showing me surrounded by three opponents in the arena.
That was the battle where I had won my title as champion, dethroning the one before me.
It was a gift from the empress, one I forced myself to wear for her.
After the empress introduced Aryx—followed by another round of applause—she commanded us to walk into the pool. As we moved toward it, hands reached for us, but their fingers never made contact.
“Remember, my dears, you may look tonight, but no one is to touch, unless you are given my blessing,” the empress reminded them, her tone sharper than a shard of glass.
Cool water sloshed over my feet, drifting up to my ankles as I walked into the basin, taking my position on one side while Aryx moved to the other. Two masked men came forward. One handed Aryx twin blades while the other gave me a sword and a round shield.
The crowd let out an excited gasp as I swung the weapon, feeling its weight, testing its balance.
Something was off about it.
I peered down the length of the blade, spotting the issue a third of the way down. It had been overworked in that spot, causing the metal to be thinner there. Because of that flaw, it was not a well-balanced weapon, something I would have to compensate for.
“Tonight, I give you a private battle between two of my soul crushers from my harem so that you may see with your own eyes the brutality of the male gender and what I faced when I raised arms against them and the emperor.” She paused for emphasis, surveying the room, ensuring every ear was leant to her.
“The loser of tonight’s battle will be gifted to one of you for the night—” She gestured to the audience.
“To touch, to ride , whatever you wish. All because I am a gracious empress.”
Giddy with excitement, the females cheered. This was one of the main reasons they had come—to see what it would be like to lie with one of us, to experience the touch of a man and find out what we hid beneath our loincloth, something that seemed to be of great curiosity to them.
When it came to these private events, council members and priestesses were allowed to attend whenever they liked, but for the general public, those who were invited would only be invited once.
To the females, it was like winning the lottery.
The event of a lifetime. But to me, I saw it for what it was.
It was a means of manipulation, a way for the empress to control the masses.
She always invited younger females, using this event to indoctrinate them.
To show them how horrible us males were and why we had to be kept on a tight leash.
She used her control over us as a means of keeping her control over them , and it had worked for centuries.
But the excited ladies didn’t know that they would never be given the chance to lie with me because the empress would never allow it.
The horrors beneath my mask were proof of that.
My hand tightened, and the metal handle groaned under my grasp.
Overtop of the clapping, the empress looked at us, a smug expression on her face as she said, “Begin.”
Aryx moved with the speed and the precision of a lethal arrow, shooting straight for me .
I raised my shield to answer the call of his swords as they came down over top of it. Thunk. Thunk.
I pulled back, my sword catching his twin blades just in time. I shoved my shield at him, but he jumped back, narrowly escaping my attempt to knock him off his feet.
He charged again, and I dropped down, missing the bite of his blade by a hairsbreadth as it sailed over top of my head. At the same time, the tip of my sword slid across his skin, splitting it open. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it still earned a collective gasp from the audience.
Aryx heeded the wound no mind as he said, “That was a good move. Who was the brilliant bastard who taught you it?”
I cracked a grin. “You speak too highly of yourself.” I raised the tip of my sword, pointing at him as a sign I was ready to go at it again, and he charged at me.
Someone was playing offense tonight.
Our swords clashed in a fury of silver streaks as we moved around the pool.
He fired low, and I spotted an opportunity. Muscles firing, I drove my shield down, pinning his blade against the pool floor, causing an explosion of water.
Using his free hand, Aryx sent his knuckles colliding into the side of my face, snapping my head to the right.
The edges of my mask cut into my cheek and my teeth rattled in my skull.
I leaned into the screaming ache, enjoying the blistering-white pain.
The immortal’s fist, backed by the strength of his sword’s handle, was like taking a cannonball to the face .
Stars peppered my vision. I shook my head, trying to clear them.
“That all you got, you old fossil?” I teased, feeling the warmth of my ichor as it raced like a river down my face, dripping onto my chest.
Aryx chuckled at that.
“They fight like animals,” a female said, her voice filled with amusement.
“Truly sadistic beasts,” cooed another. “Can you imagine when the realm was full of them?”
“What a horrible time that must have been,” stated someone else.
The empress’s laughter rang out.
Aryx and I charged at each other again, colliding in the middle in a spray of water and steel.
Each time our swords met, it elicited an excited response from the audience.
We went at it for a while, putting on a good show.
To us, this was no different than a sparring session, something we had done thousands of times, but to them—the females—we were unhinged monsters, lapping at the chance to destroy one another.
I swung my sword, striking from the left, and he parried my attack. I did it again and again, until my hand was flying, firing shots this way and that. One nicked him in the side, and he winced. I took that opportunity to fire my foot into his torso, kicking him out of the pool.
The audience let out shocked screams, racing out of the way as Aryx smashed into a pillar.
I charged after him, arm whipping back, readying to strike, then swung at him, but he ducked at the last second.
My blade chewed into the stone just above his head, slicing off a few of his curly blond strands.
They tumbled onto the flat of the blade.
I nodded in approval—the blade might be unbalanced, but it was plenty sharp.
“Arghh!” Aryx growled as he forced his blade ahead, aiming for my leg. I swept my shield to the right into his extended arm and knocked his sword free. It went skittering out across the floor.
I flipped my shield to the side and rammed it into his chest, locking him against the pillar.
My hand shot out, grabbing his sword before he could use it on me. The metal chewed like teeth, biting deeply into my skin. Warm liquid seeped through my fingers as I tore the blade from Aryx’s hand and tossed it to the ground.
The audience went wild.
Releasing my shield, Aryx gasped for air as he crumpled to the ground.
“Bravo, bravo,” the empress said as she stood up, clapping along with everyone else. “The God of Love will be making one of you very happy tonight.”
I went over to Aryx, braced his forearm, and helped him up.
He patted my arm. “You fought well.”
“You held up longer than I thought you would,” I acknowledged with a smirk, and although he wasn’t able to see it, he could hear it in my words.
“Fuck you,” he said with a laugh, wincing as he ran his hand over the damage I’d done to his ribs, a wound that was already starting to heal.
Servants walked up to us, exchanging weapons for towels.
As I began to dry myself, I felt compelled to glance at the far side of the room. There, sneaking through a back doorway into the atrium, was a priestess who was very, very late tonight.
My heart drummed heavily in my chest—Avriel.
Her sparkling wine-colored eyes met mine, and she offered me the smallest and briefest of smiles before she forced herself to look away.
I was thankful for my mask, because I couldn’t help but return her smile. Not wanting to put her in danger, I retreated my attention back to the servant who had been speaking to me, although I missed the first half of what they said. Private chambers was all I caught.
But I didn’t need to hear any more.
I knew the routine.
After every fight, the empress would always request that I return to her chambers. Those visits —something Aryx had warned me about—started when I was a young immortal, just a boy by human standards.
I stole one last glance at Avriel and etched her face into my mind, just as I had done hundreds of times before, holding on to her image as I left the atrium and prepared for the next task.
It was the one I hated most.