Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
T hrainn stepped forward, his behemoth body almost blocking out the sun. A shadow spread across the crowd as he raised his sword, its tip unwavering, as it pointed at Maalikai.
Determination etched itself into every line of his face. Stoic, tenacious, like he faced the blade of an unknown enemy. If he believed the match was already his, he gave no sign.
A single second passed then Thrainn launched his assault. His blade came down with the force of the Gods, steel meeting steel in a clash so brutal that even I flinched. Or maybe it was my personal stake that made me jumpy.
Maalikai braced himself, the grip on his sword visibly slipping, but somehow he managed to readjust, gripping the hilt with both hands, his muscles literally bulging under the pressure of Thrainn’s attack. His jaw ticked, his teeth clenching but the light in his eyes remained, burning with something wild.
Something dangerous.
It almost looked like he relished the challenge.
A slow smirk spread across my lips. “You’re so going down, Bastian.”
Sebastian chuckled beside me. “We’ll see.”
They broke apart, circling like predators, each measuring the other with lethal precision—wild beasts ensnared in the same deadly game.
Thrainn blinked, and in that breath of hesitation, Maalikai was already upon him, moving like a wraith unraveling from the shadows. He was silent as death and as merciless as Ezekiel’s blade.
And just as lethal.
His sword slashed, the attack deliberate but measured, barely grazing my uncle’s blade.
Someone scoffed from the crowd, dismissing the blow as careless, but Sebastian and I knew better. Maalikai wasn’t attacking—he was learning. Testing. Discovering the weakness in Thrainn’s defence before committing to the kill.
Another breath of a second passed before Maalikai launched forward, leading with a series of attacks that pushed Thrainn’s advantage, stealing it for himself. Shock plastered on my uncle’s face, concern wrinkling his features into a dark shadow as he tried and only just managed to hold off the barrage of attacks.
As soon as my uncle seemed to anticipate Maalikai’s movements, Maalikai changed them up, attacking him with an entirely different technique, like he was a completely different fighter.
Maalikai’s blade tasted skin, tearing open flesh and sinew, thick almost black blood trickled down the chieftains arm.
“Fuck.” Thrainn’s growl silenced the crowd, the cheering instantly evaporating.
Chuckling, he shoke his head. “You little fucker, you’re as good with a sword as you are with a bow.”
Maalikai lips quirked into a diabolical smile. “I did warn you.”
“Aye, you did. But I thought you were full of shit.”
An irresistible smile lit up Maalikai’s features, his scoff the only sound in the otherwise silent field.
A storm of determination darkened my uncle’s expression. A tremor of movement rippled through him, the barest hint of motion—but before he could take a step, Maalikai dropped to one knee, spinning in a rage of fury, sword slashing through the air, sounding like the whisper of death.
At the last second, Thrainn hurled himself backwards, his blade crashing down with bone-rattling impact. The sound crackled through the air—thunderous, violent—stopping the strike a breath away from devastation.
It was close.
Too damn close.
He barely avoided being gutted.
The silence that followed was deafening, the entire crowd holding a collective breath. The sound of clashing swords reverberated through my entire body, leaving my skin crawling with the odd vibration. Harsh, labored breaths only added to the rising tension, fear almost a tangible entity.
I saw my uncle’s next move before Maalikai did. I’d trained with Thrainn. I knew every single move in his arsenal. He was brawn and brute strength, an unbreakable force of destruction. A single blow, properly landed, could end this match instantly. They both know it.
Sweat permeated his dark features as he swung his sword, gathering momentum with terrifying force. A wicked grin turned his features into a malevolent sneer, comparable to the murderous glower Ezekiel was notorious for.
Maalikai’s eyes flickered, barely registering the attack before instinct took over. Determination burned through his features like an eclipse swallowing the sun. His sword met Thrainn’s in a deafening clash, his arms visibly trembling under the sheer power that was Thrainn. My uncle bore down, and for a breath, Maalikai buckled.
But he didn’t break.
With a desperate surge of strength, Maalikai pushed back, forcing Thrainn to stumble back a step. A heartbeat’s worth of space opened between them—but that’s all Malakai needed. Within a second he had reset his stance, poised to strike again.
Neither fighter blinked.
Neither yielded.
Thrainn struck again, but this time, Maalikai was ready. He twisted to the side, letting the massive blade score the dirt where he had stood seconds before, a plume of dust billowing in its wake. Thrain’s attacks became sharper, wilder, more relentless. And yet, Maalikai dodged each one with unnerving ease, his speed an impossible blur of motion.
Thrainn was vicious. Unrelenting. Each strike a crescendo of rage–fury sharpened, each assault more savage, more precise, more merciless. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until Thrainn paused, giving Maalikai a moment of respite.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go easy on you, lad?” Sweat dripped over Thrainn’s brow, the salty liquid clinging to the tips of his wild man of red hair.
An irresistibly cocky smile tipped one side of Maalikai’s lips. He looked like he relished the challenge.
Reckless.
Gods, he was so damn reckless.
He also didn’t look nearly as tired as my uncle. All those heavy blows were costing the brute of a man.
Sebastian shifted beside me. “Do you want me to wipe the drool from your mouth or are you all good?”
I shot him a lethal glare. “Shut up.”
Maalikai grinned, wicked and unhinged He was unsettlingly diabolical. He shifted his sword to his other hand, loosening his grip before tightening it again, ready to strike. He radiated such effortless confidence that I nearly did have to wipe the drool from my lips.
Damn, I had to watch myself, if I was this transparent with Sebastian I was in a world of misery. For starters, the idea of hurting him was unbearable. I had to reign in my feelings. Starting with no more eye-fucking Maalikai.
“The question is, do you want me to stop going easy on you?” Maalikai’s words froze my heart, icicles permeating through my veins and filling it with frost.
The corner of my uncle’s jaw twitched. It was the slightest movement; I doubted anyone except Sebastian and I would’ve noticed.
“Did you see that?” The words left me in a whoosh of disbelief.
Sebastian leaned forward, not daring to take his eyes off Thrainn. “I sure did. You still feeling confident?”
“Without question.”
I wasn’t going to admit it to Sebastian, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. Thrainn was clearly rattled and sometimes that’s all the advantage needed.
A sharp whistle cut through the air. Steel caught the sunlight, reflecting through the crowd as Thrainn’s sword came crashing down, fueled by pure, unbridled fury.
And Maalikai?
He sidestepped it.
Like it was as easy as breathing.
Like it was just another step in a dance he had already mastered.
The crowd gasped. My stomach clenched impossibly tighter.
Maalikai had been holding back.
The teasing slash he’d started with hadn’t been random. The change in his fighting style hadn’t been accidental either. It was all part of an elaborate trap. A carefully crafted, methodical attack designed to study, learn and to tire his opponent.
And it was working.
Thrainn was frustrated. His expression, once composed, was lined with something sharper. Something unhinged. His attacks became less controlled, each one born of sheer frenzied desperation rather than strategy.
A nefarious spark reflected in Maalikai’s eye, burning with the fire of a thousand suns. I started to question if he was possibly a descendant of Noctharis, God of War and Darkness.
Without a doubt, I knew this was all for show, Maalikai was playing with my uncle. The younger man faked left—then spun, moving with a speed that turned him to shadow. He was a blur of steel and motion, untouchable and lethal. Thrainn barely parried his attacks, his knees buckling from the force of the blows yet Maalikai wasn’t even breathless.
Sebastian exhaled beside me, voice a whisper. “What. The fuck. Was that?”
I didn’t answer. I barely continued to breathe.
Thrainn’s advantage was slipping.
Maalikai knew it.
Thrainn new it.
Anyone watching the fight could clearly see how fucked their chief was.
A bead of sweat rolled down my uncle’s temple, his chest rising and falling in laboured breaths. He was strong. Unyielding. But strength wasn’t everything.
Fighting wasn’t about brute force alone. It was about using your strengths to your advantage and your opponents weaknesses against them. Thrainn had been relying on his brute strength for far too long.
Maalikai saw it.
And he used it.
He lunged, each strike pressing forward, faster and impossibly faster, closing in, stealing control of the fight. Maalikai wielded his blade like he was indisputably a direct descendant of Noctharis. Thrainn struggled to block the blows, Maalikai’s skills far surpassing his own. He closed in, stealing the advantage within seconds.
Thrainn struggled to keep the pace up. His movements were slow, barely blocking the series of attacks Maalikai threw at him, never relenting, not even for a second.
The momentum was his.
The match was his.
He just needed to take it.
Thrainn looked defeated, he was about to lose, and he knew it. His expression confirmed it—the sharp, flickering moment of realization. When their profiles turned, I saw it etched in their eyes. The resignation in Thrainn’s, the victory in Maalikai’s
The fight was over.
The only question now?
Would Thrainn accept it?
Or would he go out in a blaze of glory?
Maalikai raised his sword, preparing to swing his blade in a perfect arch, delivering what would be the final blow. I was on my feet in a heartbeat, taking a compulsive step forward. Only seconds from victory, Maalikai’s gaze collided with mine.
All the air was sucked from my lungs. An ethereal calm ebbed its way through me. My body felt serene and wired at the same time, and the universe clicked in place as if his soul recognized mine. My lips parted, but no sound came out.
Blade inches from Thrainn’s throat, Maalikai faltered, his sword almost coming to a visible stop in midair. It was only for a split second, but that was all the opening Thrainn needed. My eyes flicked to my uncle, and I could see the single-minded focus of a victory within reach.
He swung his sword one last time, letting out a deafening war cry.
Maalikai’s eyes widened, no longer looking at me but intently watching the sword swinging toward his chest; he drew his sword up, but there was no time to block.
No time to parry.
Uncle Thrainn stopped the blow before it plunged through Maalikai’s chest. The look of pure astonishment as Maalikai studied the sword that was mere inches from his heart, etched into every one of his impossibly handsome features.
Disbelief coiled in the silence, nearly tangible. Thrainn heaved a sigh, looking expectantly at the crowd.
Just like that, the match had come to an abrupt end.
“That’s bullshit!” Sebastian was in an uproar, instantly springing to his feet.
What the Nexus had just happened?
Did anyone else notice the intense connection between Maalikai and me, or was it just me? Or had I imagined the whole thing?
Lost for words, I couldn’t bring myself to ask Sebastian because what would it mean if I hadn’t imagined it?
Right now, I couldn’t deal with that level of crazy.
Instead, I let a smile play across my face, nudging Sebastian’s shoulder with mine. “You’re just being a sore loser.”
Sebastian turned to me with a look I’d never seen before, almost like a man possessed.
“I fought him; there is no way he would make a mistake like that! There is no way he would hesitate and leave himself open.”
My gut told me Sebastian was right, but I wasn’t about to admit that. “You think he lost on purpose?”
He shook his head in disbelief. “No, I know he lost on purpose.”
“Why would he do that?”
Before he could answer, we were interrupted by Thrainn’s booming voice.
“Seems like the boy has skills, but not enough to beat me.” Thrainn was breathless but he managed to finish his sentence before sucking in another deep gulp of air.
The crowd roared, and for once I wasn’t among them. I was too focused on Maalikai. It appeared like he was breathing like normal, unlike my uncle who was gasping for air.
How was it possible that the fight had taken nothing out of him? And if a fight as aggressive as this had no impact on him, then what else was he capable of?
Nope.
I so wasn’t going there!
Was Sebastian right? Did he throw the fight, or was it just a coincidence that he’d hesitated? Or did I distract him?
It had felt like time had stopped the moment our eyes met. And I couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d purposefully lose unless he wanted Thrainn to save face in front of his people.
Did he acknowledge the importance of us seeing our chief claim victory and forfeit his own transgression to honor?
Everything about him didn’t make sense, and strangely enough, I found myself wanting to know why.
“As your chief, you look to me for many reasons; my wisdom, my courage, my strength, and most importantly my devilishly good looks.”
Laughter filled the air. Typical Uncle Thrainn—cracking a joke as the crowd was still recovering from the tension of the fight.
“But being a leader is not about being the best at everything. It’s about never giving up, even when all odds are against you. I may be the strongest man out here, but today, I wasn’t necessarily the best. Through the will of the Gods, I managed nothing shy of a miracle, and here I stand, your victor. But it is Maalikai who is your champion.”
Thrainn clamped a massive hand on Maalikai’s shoulder–firm, reverent, deliberate. It was a gesture of honour I’d only ever seen him give my father… and maybe Sebastian, on rare days when he truly earned it.
I watched, disbelief curling in my chest, as Uncle Thrainn walked beside him into the tall grass and toward Ophelia–as if he walked with the ghost of my father or something devine cloaked in mortal skin.
Before Maalikai reached the path, he paused. Turned. His eyes swept over the sea of people, scanning, searching—for something. More interested than I’d care to admit, I watched him.
What was he looking for?
When his eyes found mine, I froze.
His gaze was more intimate than a physical caress. Vulnerability settled over me like a second skin. And then he smiled—brilliant, disarming, like it had been carved just for me. My heart tripped over itself. Blushing, I dropped my gaze.
When I finally dared another glance, he was already looking elsewhere.
Twice.
Twice now he’d caught my gaze and held it.
That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?
Was I imagining this?
Was he really searching for me ?
No. No way.
Not in this lifetime.
He had no reason to. But no matter how much I tried to rationalize it away, the butterflies in my chest refused to settle.
And Gods help me, some ridiculous part of me wanted him to be searching for me.
“What was that all about?”
In an instant, I came crashing back to reality. Somehow, I’d managed to forget Sebastian still stood next to me. Evidently, he’d witnessed the whole embarrassing exchange.
At least I knew it wasn’t a figment of my imagination.
“That was nothing.”
Sebastian’s eyes locked on me–sharpened with something raw, something real–before flicking to Maalikai’s back as he walked away beside the chief.
He had seen it. That moment between us. It clung to him like smoke–shadowed in his posture, darkened in his eyes. Even the way he held himself had shifted. Straighter, stiffer, like he was bracing against something he didn’t want to feel.
“It didn’t look like nothing, that looked like a whole load of something.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I started walking towards Ophelia, hoping that Sebastian would drop the whole thing.
“Well, from where I was standing, it looked like you two were ripping each other’s clothes off with your eyes, and I don’t call that nothing.”
I stopped abruptly, but wished I hadn’t; Sebastian slammed into me from behind, sending us both sprawling.
My knees hit the ground hard, and my first thought–ridiculously–was a prayer that the dress hadn’t ripped. It would shatter my mother’s heart. Though, honestly, it wouldn’t surprise her.
Straightening myself, I examined the damage. A small portion of the beautiful satin was smeared with dirt, but the material was still intact.
Barely.
“Shit, sorry, Em.” Sebastian muttered, reaching for my elbow.
Heat crawled up my neck as passersby muttered their irritation, stepping around us like we were nothing more than a inconvenience in their day. It took everything in me not to rise to the challenge–to snap, to spit fire, to show them just how inconvenient I could really be.
“I’m fine.”
Dusting myself off, I started walking again but this time in the opposite direction, back towards where we’d come from.
“Where are you going?” Sebastian asked, standing in the middle of the path so everyone had to walk around him, his arms crossed against his chest, his biceps bulging at the movement.
I was starting to think I had a thing for that specific part of the male anatomy.
“I think I might get some fresh air.”
Sebastian looked at me like I was crazy, and then looked around him as if searching for something he couldn’t see. “We’re outside, all the air is fresh.”
“I know. I think I just need a couple of minutes… alone.”
A dark brow rose skeptically. “I’ll come with you.”
The sound of my teeth gritting together crunched loudly in my ears. “I’ll be fine.”
“Look, Em, I was just teasing; I swear I’ll cut it out.” The hurt in his eyes almost convinced me to cave. But I wasn’t very good at giving up power, it made me feel too vulnerable, even with Sebastian.
I wasn’t sure why–I just need a moment. A single breath to think.
Between losing my father, the tangled mess unraveling between Maalikai and me, and the storm I couldn’t name simmering just beneath the surface with Sebastian… it was all too much.
I needed a second.
Just one.
Before everything swallowed me whole.
“Please, Bastian.”
Sebastian studied my face for several minutes, probably weighing up every scenario he could possibly think of until finally he caved.
“If you need me, I’ll be helping set up the feast.”
I nodded, ready to be alone and decompress. Everything felt too overwhelming.
“Oh, and Em, don’t be too long.”
“I promise. I’ll come and find you as soon as I’m done.”
I watched Sebastian walk away until the last blur of color disappeared in the distance and, for a second, I was free.