Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
When the guards unchained Killian and me, hauling us out, I knew what was ahead. Where they were taking us.
It was time for the Games.
My heart pounded with each step, the air shifting when we reached the tunnel leading to the arena.
Energy hung in the air like serrated knives, the crowd’s chants resonating down the passage, a call for blood.
For death. Anything to distract from their own despair and anger.
How easily we all turned on each other, becoming the monsters they deemed us—cannibals eating our own instead of coming together and attacking the one starving and torturing us.
My gaze shot over to Killian, really taking him in—pale, sweaty, gaunt, and broken. The iron robbing him of his energy to heal, sucking the life from him.
“Kil—”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Kovacs.” A forced smile ticked up his lips, bleeding with a sorrow he couldn’t hide. “I’m ready to face whatever comes my way.” As though he was ready if death came for him too. “I will always fight until the very end.”
“Take the collar off of him,” I sneered back at Boyd, the chants outside the tunnel growing louder and louder, the pounding of feet and clapping hands, the bright light of the ring shining into the passage.
Boyd tilted his head.
“Look at him. You know the iron is killing him. Give us at least a chance out there. Doesn’t it make for a better show anyway?”
“It’s not my decision.” Boyd moved through us, unlocking the gate with giddy cruelty. “Nor do I care.”
Clank.
The sound of the gate opening instantly tripled my pulse, a reminder of the traumas of all the times I had been here before. The clank of the key echoing in the lock, the certain pitch the gate made when it opened, felt as if nails were being hammered into my spine.
How many times would I be able to go in and walk out? One of these times, I wouldn’t.
And tonight, might be the time I didn’t.
Or worse, Killian doesn’t.
“I thought you two would be happy.” Boyd’s mouth curved, his shoulder pushing the gate fully open. “You get to reunite with all your friends.” He waved behind us. My eyes followed his gesture to the arena.
My body wanted to curl up on itself, to scream and wail, denying what I saw.
Once again, Markos put in every single person who mattered to me. The thought of only me and Killian was horrendous enough, but seeing all my friends, my family, I knew what Istvan had in store was much worse. And our numbers had already dropped significantly.
Kitty, Ash, Scorpion, Rosie, Wesley, Birdie, Lukas, Kek, Hanna, and to my horror, even Nora stood in the pit.
A large figure moved in front of them; his jaw twitched as his eyes took in my beaten face.
“Warwick.” I called his name privately between us, my legs already moving to him. His arms scooped me up, crushing me to his chest, his mouth claiming mine hungrily.
I knew instantly what he was doing, the warmth of his shadow, the magic we weaved together, poured into my veins, healing and strengthening me. Taking one look at Boyd’s work, he was getting me battle ready.
Breaking the kiss, he growled against my lips, his thumb sweeping over the bruises and cuts on my cheek. “Whatever it takes, princess. Fucking survive.”
Slow clapping whipped my head to the balcony. Warwick set me down, my body turning toward the reason we were all here.
Istvan, in his finest uniform, stood over us, arrogance cutting his features sharply. Olena, on his left, had the same haughty expression.
Istvan’s guest list had doubled.
Ivanenko, the Ukrainian Leader and father of Olena, who I had met several times at parties, where he always propositioned me, stood on the other side of his daughter.
On Istvan’s right were Leon, Sonya, the Romanian Prime Minister Lazar, and his sociopath son, Sergiu. The man I was supposed to marry.
His dark eyes narrowed on me with a mix of utter disgust, hate, and fury. The aura of violence and cruelty inside him wafted from him, making me realize how lucky I was fate took my life down a different road.
Smirking at Sergiu, I stepped closer to Warwick. I might be a prisoner, tortured, beaten, and about to die, but my life was still a million times better than being forced to be his wife.
“If you told me a year ago the girl I took in, raised, loved, and cared for as a daughter would stab me in the back?” Istvan’s voice snapped my attention to him.
“Would stand before me now with her fae friends and her half-breed lover? I’m not sure I would have believed it.
Though, I guess that is my own fault. Deceiving and backstabbing run in her veins. ”
Istvan placed his arms behind his back, pacing a few feet. “I should be furious with you, Brexley. What you did to my lab, my experiments.” Clicking his tongue, he tsked me. “I should have someone come down there now and slit your throat.”
A snarl reverberated next to me, Warwick’s frame rigid and threatening. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ash and Lukas step up next to me, could feel Scorpion behind me, and I knew Killian was also near.
Istvan’s mouth pinched in amusement, watching them move in around me.
“I see who the alpha of the pack is.” His eyes glinted. “What a waste. You could have been a remarkable leader.”
“I already am.” I took one tiny step in front, showing I didn’t need anyone to guard or protect me. “You just don’t like it because I’m no longer a chess piece you can move around, marry off, or train as a spy to take over the rule of more countries.” I made a point of looking at Lazar and Sergiu.
Istvan’s jaw rolled, his head lifting higher as Prime Minister Lazar shot Istvan an angry, confused look.
Istvan only grinned down at me. It knotted my stomach. His smile was one I recognized when he knew something more than the other person. When he knew he had you.
“What is this all for? Your ego? Sick entertainment? Is this what leaders do now? Sip champagne and nibble on gourmet cheese while watching people die? Oh right, it’s exactly what you all do.
Hide behind your protective walls, flaunting your money and power in lavish parties like some dick-measuring competition while people starve in the streets.
You use the poor as slaves in your factories while taking all the profit.
Kids are dying of disease and hunger every day, and you do nothing. ”
“Oh, Brexley.” Istvan wagged his head. “You silly, na?ve child. Power is the only thing that matters. The only thing that can change this world, which I plan to do. To be the one who leads this world back to the way it should be. The way it was meant to be. One ruler, one species.”
Leon and Alexandru both jerked to Istvan. They stiffened, shifting their feet in confusion as they looked at each other and then to Istvan, clearly wondering where this was going. Ivanenko did not respond, though I spotted a glint of self-satisfaction in his eyes.
“And thanks to you.” Istvan motioned to me, his own smugness smearing over his face.
“It happened quicker than I ever would have thought.” He didn’t react to the two other leaders, their nerves turning them defensive and angry.
It only added to Istvan’s dominance. “You told me all I needed to know.” He nodded to a guard standing behind him.
Noise and movement happened behind him, more guards bringing someone from Istvan’s private passage out onto the balcony, the progression slow and cumbersome.
As if a roped looped around my neck, the sound of my heart drummed in my ears, my entire world flipping over.
Istvan stepped slightly to the side, letting the guards haul the person forward.
My legs dipped as a scream stuck in my throat, complete terror locking it back, not wanting to believe what I was seeing.
Crystal blue eyes pinned me down with strength as his body swayed with fragility, his mouth muzzled to prevent him from being able to speak.
Or utter a spell.
“No.” I shook my head, but there was no denying it.
Tad.
Istvan had his arms tied and gagged to prevent the Druid from chanting or doing any spells.
Before I could even take it in, I saw Istvan lean down, lifting something up from below the railing, a mop of black hair and blue-green eyes.
“NOOOO!” Warwick boomed, his voice bouncing and cracking against the walls, ringing the arena in his rage, lurching forward.
Istvan perched Simon on his hip, holding the boy awkwardly, as if he had no idea what to do with children. He ran his fingers down the boy’s tear-streaked cheek.
“I wouldn’t, Farkas.” Istvan’s tone stopped Warwick in his tracks. “They are so fragile at this age. So easily hurt.”
“Don’t you fucking touch him,” Warwick grunted through his teeth, every syllable a warning.
“That’s up to you now, isn’t it?” Istvan’s challenging threat very clear. “This is such an impressionable age. He might make a good HDF soldier with the right guidance and family. Since he seems to be an orphan now.” Istvan’s insinuation about Eliza’s fate was clear.
Warwick heaved with rage, his body twitching with the need to destroy. To attack the threat on his family.
“I want my uncle Warwick.” Simon wiggled and fussed, trying to get away from Istvan.
Istvan set him down. “Your uncle has done bad things. Do you know what happens when you do bad things? You get punished.”
Simon glared at Istvan, moving closer to Tad.
Tad put his arm around him, pulling him into him, letting Simon hide in his robes.
Only then did I feel a minuscule bit of reprieve from Warwick.
It didn’t lessen the threat, but I felt better knowing Tad was with him. Simon wasn’t completely alone up there.
The shock of seeing them was weaning, letting logic settle in, filling my head with the notion they had been caught and what it meant.
“Oh, gods . . .” Oxygen slipped from my lungs, whirling my head. “You got in.” My voice barely made it out, sticking on the dry patches in my throat.
Istvan’s superior smile zeroed in on me poignantly. “We walked right in.”