Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cadence
Shouts and cheers erupted around the arena, but all I could focus on was the buzzing in my ears. My chest heaved as I tried to suck in a breath, and my vision blurred. Pain throbbed from the wound in my shoulder, and I felt as though I was sinking.
It was as if I was drifting outside of my body as the adrenaline drained away. The world shifted, tilting sideways, but I pressed my palm into the blood-soaked earth, grounding myself in the present. I hadn’t come this far only to fail now.
Black, shadowy tendrils filled the space beside me, and I blinked as my mind failed to keep pace with reality. A moment later, the shadows solidified, and Ryker stood above me, his towering frame blocking out the sun.
I tried to stand, but my knees buckled. Before I could hit the ground, strong, corded forearms caught me, pulling me to my feet.
“Easy,” Ryker said as he tucked one arm under my legs, cradling me against his chest. “I’ve got you.”
He glanced toward the Zarythian’s body, bloodied and crumpled in the dirt. A small grin lifted his lips as he shook his head, before his steel-grey eyes locked with mine.
“That was fucking transcendent, wife.”
“Lady Cadence,” the booming voice intoned, claiming my attention. “His Majesty extends his congratulations on yet another victory. You’re proving to be an even more formidable contender than he expected.”
The crowd erupted into cheers again, but beneath the noise, a low growl rumbled deep in Ryker’s throat. The vibration surged through me, a deadly warning that sent a shiver racing down my spine.
“There is one last test that stands between you and your claim to the crown,” the herald continued. With the little strength I still possessed, I rolled my eyes, aching to scream that I didn’t want the damn throne they were so desperate to kill me over.
“Enough!” Ryker said. “This ends here. You’ve had your fun, and now I am taking my wife to the healers.”
A low, mocking laugh rang out in the silence. “Afraid she doesn’t have what it takes, Son?”
Ryker clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around me. The enthusiasm of the crowd shifted as whispers threaded through the chatter. “Watch your fucking tongue, before I rip it from your mouth.”
“So many threats, and yet, here I sit, unharmed.” The King’s voice was taunting, but I thought I could detect the faintest tremor beneath his bravado.
I pressed my palm to my bleeding shoulder, the scent of iron and grit overwhelming me as my vision flickered again.
“Brother,” Riordan said, a note of warning in his tone, but Ryker ignored him.
“Posturing will not spare you from my wrath, Father.”
The King stiffened, but he forced himself to relax as he sat back in his chair. “If she does not complete the final test, she forfeits the trials, and the penalty is death.”
Penalty?
Death?
What the hell was he talking about?
“What penalty?” Riordan said, his eyes rounded with fear.
“You disappoint me, Son. How many times did I have to beat it into you as a child, hmm? Always be three steps ahead of your opponent.”
Riordan flinched, and Callum stepped closer to him, his face twisted into a disgusted scowl.
“Only cowards teach children with their fists,” Ryker said with a snarl. “So you’ll forgive us for dismissing your lessons.”
The King merely shrugged, not the least bit perturbed by his behavior. His narrowed gaze turned to me, his eyes the same unsettling shade as his son’s. “What shall it be, Lady Cadence? Will you complete the last challenge, or do you concede?”
“Neither,” Ryker spat. “I said we’re done.”
“The rules are clear, Ryker. Once the trials have begun, she must finish all three tests or face the penalty of death.”
My heart pounded, but it wasn’t from fear.
It was from fury.
From defiance.
From the sheer audacity of this man.
This so-called king stood there with blood on his hands and amusement in his eyes, as if it were all a game.
Ryker’s arms tightened around me as though he could sense my thoughts. But I’d had enough of being carried, of needing to be saved.
I slipped from his hold. It wasn’t graceful. My legs almost buckled as my boots hit the ground, but I locked my knees and stood tall. Pain rippled down my spine, and my vision danced with shadows, but I refused to fall.
“I’ll finish it,” I said, my voice hoarse but steady.
“No,” Ryker growled, stepping in front of me. “Absolutely not. We have entertained his little game for long enough. You are my wife, and that makes you my queen. If any of these cowards take issue with that, they can answer to me.”
“It’s not your choice. It’s mine.”
His jaw clenched, and I could see the fury behind his storm-grey eyes.
I turned back toward the balcony and addressed the smug monster seated on the throne. “Let’s finish this.”
“Cadence,” Ryker rumbled as he speared his fingers through his hair.
“I’m fine,” I lied, doing my best to ignore the throbbing pain in my shoulder.
The King smiled, slow and satisfied. “Excellent. Let the final trial begin.”
“Go, Ryker.” A strangled sound caught in his throat before he vanished in a swirl of darkness.
With him no longer at my side, his strength no longer anchoring me, I felt my confidence slip away. Every breath scraped like broken glass through my lungs. My shoulder burned with a raw, pulsing ache, blood still seeping warm and sluggish down my arm.
My legs trembled beneath me, muscles tight with exhaustion, and each step felt as though I was wading through wet sand. Every limb felt too heavy, too stiff, but the weight of expectation was heavier.
My vision swam at the edges, darkening like ink in water, and I blinked, trying to clear it. Every cheer from the crowd felt like a blade to my skull, every heartbeat a hammer against my ribs.
I was unraveling.
But even as the pain screamed for mercy and my body begged to yield, I ground my teeth and forced my spine straight.
Not yet.
Not like this.
They wanted to see me fall, but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
The ring that adorned my finger pulsed, and I curled my fist tight around it, grounding myself in its weight.
The magic it housed stirred beneath my skin, but I had no idea how to wield it.
I could feel its hunger, its awareness, as though it was calling to me, waiting for a command I didn’t know how to give.
The intensity of Ryker’s gaze hit me like a brand: searing, possessive, desperate. He wanted to stop me. But this trial had been my choice. My fight.
And no one would take it from me.
Not even him.