Chapter 54
54
Selena
T he twin suns blazed down on the arena, their rays muted slightly by the awning overhead, but the heat still seeped through. The scent of sweat and spice drifted on the gentle sea breeze. The air carried the hum of the crowd’s excitement, thousands of voices mixing together, creating a buzz that vibrated through the walled-off box where I sat on my throne. It offered some semblance of privacy, separating us—the honored—from the rest of the stands.
This wasn’t a position I wanted to be in, but tradition demanded it—and I had learned quickly being mated to Zirene that sometimes tradition couldn’t be ignored.
The throne they’d crafted for me was an intricate work of art, carved from dark wood—the blackest I’d ever seen—with silver inlays that shimmered like starlight. It was beautiful and imposing, a reminder of my role as the Beacon, but right now, it felt more like a fancy cage.
Behind me, my mates stood—Zirene, Kaede, V’dim, and Z’fir—each exuding their own brand of lethal energy. They were warriors in my clan who had fought beside one another as Yarrkins War veterans.
They needed no words to convey their readiness. I could almost taste their resolve, strong and sharp like the tang of metal in the back of my throat. The three connected to me in the most intimate of ways kept their mental shields guarded, their focus on the games.
Around us, voices murmured in hushed tones, awaiting the start of the Mating Games. I wanted it done. The day had already been filled with enough drama and excitement; I longed for the brief refuge my royal bedroom suite provided—a chance to enjoy a quiet moment with my clan.
Ensuring Kaede kept his promise of a luxurious tent, overflowing with pillows and blankets, ready for me to enjoy under the stars.
In the royal suite, my family and friends waited.
Zyxel and Ryzen had vanished beneath the stands, gone to join the other males daring enough to challenge my mates for the honor of a single day and night with me. Among them were warriors seeking to prove their strength, their worth.
Zyxel was someone that stirred emotions I hadn’t yet untangled—and he was so desperate enough for a chance to be alone with me for a long period of time that he was willing to fight Kaede…
And then there was Ryzen. He’d told me he wasn’t entering, yet his absence from the royal suite said otherwise.
That thought twisted my stomach in a way I didn’t want to acknowledge—not after that kiss we’d mistakenly shared.
Masmi’s voice boomed over the arena, cutting through the noise with a confident commanding authority I admired and wanted to have one day. “Citizens of Liskta and honored guests, welcome to the first day of the Mating Games!”
The crowd erupted in cheers, a wave of sound so loud it felt as if the ground itself vibrated beneath my feet. I clenched my hands on the armrests of the throne, taking a steadying breath, determined not to show my nerves.
The first female to present herself at the Games, the one who set the tone for the festival, was always someone of importance. This year, that honor had been forced upon me.
I didn’t know whether to be flattered or furious. Perhaps both.
Masmi’s voice rose again, slicing through the cheers with an almost playful edge. “Are we ready to see who dares to challenge the Beacon’s mates for her hand?”
A fresh wave of shouts rattled the platform. I exhaled through my nose, bracing myself. I felt Kaede’s mental presence brush faintly at the edges of my consciousness, his shield partially lowered out of caution. He remained silent, focused on something other than the present.
Was it a threat?
Masmi gestured dramatically toward the large, reinforced doors that led beneath the stands. “Let us open the waiting room doors and see who among these brave warriors will fight for the Beacon!”
The heavy doors hissed open, and the crowd stilled, a collective breath held as the first challenger stepped out.
Zyxel.
The sight of him stole my breath. His crimson scales gleamed under the suns, his black, curved horns casting sharp shadows over golden markings that shimmered like molten metal. Gone was the quiet, nervous male I’d grown accustomed to. He slithered forward, a serpent warrior moving with lethal grace, confident and determined to demonstrate his worth.
My body reacted instinctively. A surprising thrill sparkled through me at the sight, and a low, pleasing purr escaped my throat before I could contain it.
Maybe I did have an attraction to warriors.
My satisfaction vanished as another figure followed close behind. Medium gray fur, thin black stripes, and those violet eyes gleaming with cocky mischief: Izyana.
My body tensed and the sound caught in my throat, causing the once sweet approval to sour into something bitter.
The crowd’s raucous enthusiasm faltered, replaced by a hush—with an uncomfortable tension—as they, too, registered his presence.
Behind me, Zirene’s growl vibrated through my spine. Kaede hissed, frustrated and furious, threatening death with an unspoken promise. Z’fir and V’dim stiffened, their silence more threatening than any roar. A bile filled my mouth as I watched Izyana smirk at us, at me.
This wasn’t just a challenge for a mate. This felt like a challenge for the throne.
“If Z doesn’t kill him, I will,” Kaede growled. “He’ll die on these sands before he gets within a tail’s length of you.”
“You can’t use your drones or anything synthetic, Kaede,” Z’fir reminded him. “It’s against the rules. Everything has to be biologically natural.”
Kaede’s answering chuckle was dark. “Then I’ll inject him with my Vusyte. Problem solved.”
My pulse raced beneath my skin, but I clenched my jaw and kept a straight face. I refused to let Izyana see how much their presence affected me, denying them the satisfaction of knowing they had gotten under my skin.
Masmi’s voice returned, bright and almost teasing despite the palpable tension. “Challengers, who would like to go first?”
Zyxel inclined his head graciously, a smooth gesture of courtesy. “Izyana, by all means.”
I wanted to shout at him, to demand to know why he would hand the opening round to someone who clearly had no honor of his own.
Izyana laughed, stepping forward as if this were his stage.
My stomach twisted—anger and worry mixing unpleasantly—and I clenched my fists, the cool metal of the throne biting into my palms. Masmi’s voice carried across the stands to address my mates. “And who will defend Selena from this first challenger?”
“Kaede shouldn’t take two rounds,” Z’fir stated, his voice low enough for only our group to hear. “Not because he can’t, but because it’ll make the rest of us look weak.”
“If I fight him, one of us won’t leave the arena alive,” Zirene growled, his response was blunt, his anger barely contained. “And I know my Beacon would rather avoid bloodshed today.”
“One of us will need to challenge him,” V’dim replied, addressing Z’fir, his tentacles shifting uneasily. “Let it be me. I have no fragile petal wings that he could shred to pieces.”
My stomach twisted at his words, my heart slamming against my ribs. A breath caught in my throat, and I fought the urge to cry out. My hand flew over my mouth, my arm instinctively moving to my stomach as flashes of blood-soaked memories crashed over me.
A wave of nausea roiled through me as the world dimmed.
A memory rose, stark and searing: Xylo and Odelm lying motionless, their bodies broken, blood staining the ground, appendages severed and scattered. One blink later, and they were now V’dim and Z’fir, their lifeless bodies strewn across the white sand in a grotesque tableau of severed appendages.
The weight of helplessness, the smell of iron in the air, the echo of my own screams. A horrible flash of the past blurred with the present, the nightmare etched into my mind becoming a reality once more.
Stars, I couldn’t let that happen again.
“No!” The word tore from my lips, more a hiss than a shout, and I spun to face them. Without hesitation, I grabbed their mental threads, pulling with a force that startled them.
I refused to let them fight him. I refused to risk seeing any of them mutilated just to placate some twisted custom.
“I won’t allow it,” I snarled in their minds. “Izyana wouldn’t hold back. He would deliberately try to hurt you, knowing it would devastate me. I don’t need to be nursing two more mates back to health because some dishonorable male wants to vent his rage against any of you for not getting his way.”
Both V’dim and Z’fir stiffened, their concern washing over me like a balm. They sent waves of soothing reassurance, their mental threads pulsing with promises.
“If that’s your will, nestqueen,” V’dim pathed, his tone gentle. “We won’t fight. Not if it brings you pain and means dragging you through that horror again.”
“The Mating Games mean nothing compared to your peace,” Z’fir added. “We won’t accept his challenge if that’s what you want.”
Kaede stepped forward, his fangs flashing as he flexed his muscles. “Fine. Then I’ll take him—and Zyxel too, while I’m at it. Consider it my pleasure.”
His words were laced with dark amusement, but I felt the truth beneath them. He relished the idea of putting Izyana in his place. My lethal assassin despised the Aldawi prince so fiercely that he would kill him without hesitation if it would not raise unnecessary drama for the rest of the empire.
You couldn’t announce a royal’s death without reason—or else our people would think we were as ruthless as the late Sovereign.
Before I could protest, a strong, familiar thread brushed against my mental shields. The warm sensation was unmistakable, steady and grounding—Ryzen. I opened my shields without hesitation, letting him in.
“Beacon.” His voice filled my mind, soft yet resolute. “Let me fight for you.”
“Please,” I begged, my mental voice trembling with gratitude and desperation.
“Your will is mine,” he replied, his presence wrapping around me like a protective embrace. “Let me be your shield.”
Relief surged through me, his presence wiping away the dark memories, scattering them like petals caught in a desert wind.
His presence receded, leaving a reassuring sense of stability as the hollow ache in my chest subsided.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as Ryzen made his grand entrance, his long locks of blond hair shimmering with streaks of emerald. The glowing runes adorning his body pulsed softly against his tanned skin, emphasizing his defined muscles.
He strode forward with an unhurried confidence, the murmurs in the stands growing louder as they observed his deadly presence.
Masmi tilted her head, and her voice boomed overhead, carrying over the growing buzz of the crowd. “And who do we have here? A late challenger, perhaps?”
Ryzen ignored the crowd, his steps purposeful as he passed Zyxel and Izyana without so much as a glance. He stopped before the platform where I sat and dropped into a deep bow, his long hair brushing the sand dusted floor. “I challenge Izyana,” he announced, his voice ringing clear and firm for all to hear. “I will fight in place of Z’fir and V’dim, for the honor of the Beacon.”
The crowd erupted into startled whispers and gasps. Even Masmi seemed momentarily stunned. She raised a hand to silence the noise and studied Ryzen for a long moment. “Tradition states that only mates of the honored female may battle her challengers.”
A lump formed in my throat, and before I could weigh the consequences, the words spilled out. “I’ve taken him recently,” I blurted out. My words came out rushed and uneven, carrying over the stunned silence. “It hasn’t been announced yet because we were waiting—”
The crowd erupted into a series of shocked murmurs and surprised cries this time.
Heat flushed my skin. I sensed acceptance and understanding from V’dim and Z’fir, but from Kaede’s direction came a flash of scorching anger, raw and sudden, before he slammed his mental door shut, locking me out. The sting of his reaction cut me, and I regretted the desperate admission that rushed past my lips.
Masmi arched a brow at me, her expression unreadable before she turned back to Ryzen. “If the Beacon has taken a new mate during this festival, then by tradition, he may fight,” she declared for all to hear. “Therefore, Ryzen may face Izyana’s challenge.”
Ryzen inclined his head to her, murmuring his thanks before leaping onto the platform with an effortless grace that drew a fresh round of murmurs from the crowd. A hush fell as he turned to me, his emerald eyes soft but determined as he raised his hand to his chest. A shimmering jade-encrusted dagger materialized from the runes etched across his skin. He held it out to me, his movements deliberate and reverent.
I inhaled, reaching out mentally. “What are you doing?”
"In the old traditions of my people, before they abandoned family and love, we would offer a part of ourselves to our mate before going into battle," he explained, his voice gentle yet firm. “It serves as an anchor, a way to call us back if we falter. Take it, Beacon.”
I reached for his spirit dagger, my fingers trembling as they closed around the hilt. The instant I touched it, a soothing warmth spread up my arm, unfurling in my chest and settling my rattled nerves.
My breath hitched as the weight of it felt both foreign and deeply familiar, as if I were holding a piece of his very soul.
Ryzen gave me a faint, reassuring smile before shrugging off his vest and tossing it at my feet. Without another word, he turned and leapt down to the sands, landing lightly before Izyana.
He straightened, his tattoos glowing with intensity, highlighting the powerful and deadly strength of his muscles. “I accept your challenge and will fight for the Beacon’s honor.”
Izyana’s mouth twisted into a smirk, challenging fate. “Doesn’t matter who fights me.” He sneered. “I will win.”
Ryzen’s smile didn’t falter, but his runes flared brighter as a glint of savage amusement lit up his gaze. “We’ll see about that.”