Chapter 19 #2
Aron stilled, finally sensing the dominance emanating from him.
“You just put a target on your back.” Warwick sneered in Aron’s face, his gaze snapping to mine. “And hers.”
Air tore through my nose, my lungs tripping over the gush of oxygen. His threat felt like lead weights were dropped on my back.
I stared back at the man, not showing any emotion. His blue-green eyes rolled like a storm crashing through me. He tilted his head, watching me for a long time as if I were a science experiment until he stepped up to me, sending my pulse tapping wildly against my neck.
As his gaze rolled over me, his nose flared, the heat from his body colliding into mine. My head spun. Arms folded, he tipped closer.
“Watch your back now, princess.” Rough and deep, his voice felt like it poured through my veins and down my throat.
“Everything’s changed now.” His mouth grazed my cheek.
“Kovacs,” he whispered before brushing past me, his arm knocking into me purposefully as he strolled on, leaving me rooted to my spot, wheezing for air.
His departure sent the horde pouring out of the mess hall. Figures bumped and brushed by, whispers, snarls, and glares of death all centered on me.
“Who was that?” Aron grabbed my arm, snapping me out of the bubble Warwick seemed to always put around me when he was near.
“Remember on nights Sergeant Freeman got a little tipsy and would tell us old battle stories of the Wolf?”
“Yeah. That Farkas dude.” Aron’s forehead wrinkled.
“The legend of the guy who came back from the dead after being killed in the Fae War, becoming neither human nor fae. It was said he could move like a ghost and hunt like a wolf, killing hundreds in minutes all by himself with his bare hands. But he’s just a myth.
He’s not actually real. Bakos said he was made up to scare people. ”
“Bakos was wrong. He’s very real. The legend and myth are true.” I bit down on my lip. “The man who just threatened you? The man in black . . .” My gaze went to Aron’s, feeling the power of saying his name. “Is Warwick Farkas.”
Aron stumbled after me, trying to refute what I had just confessed to him, but the more he tried to deny it, the less sure he sounded.
So many stories about the fae our parents or grandparents grew up thinking were fables were our reality, the fae having shown themselves when the barrier fell.
But Warwick Farkas was one we still put in the Santa Claus or zombie category.
No one rose back from death as if nothing happened and was neither fae nor human.
Necromancers and Druids were said to do it, but it was black magic .
. . wrong . . . and it came with bad consequences.
The person was not right. Hollow, soulless, and angry, they were slivers of their former self, forced to live but not actually alive, their bodies cold and awkward.
Warwick was not any of those, his blood ran hot, his presence so full of life it choked you.
I was sure the part of him about being brought back to life was highly exaggerated; the man was real.
So real, he caused everything in me to vibrate violently.
I felt lost and found at the same time. He was everything I imagined a legend would be: overwhelming and on another plane, high above us mortals.
“85230,” a familiar voice yelled out for Aron.
Boyd’s figure moved toward us. My stomach twisted at the sight of him.
Boyd’s eyes dipped to me, a sneer curling up his lip.
“Awww, little fishy, I see you already found another fishy friend. How adorable.” To Aron he said, “You are in the laundry room.”
Aron’s shoulders rolled back, his nose wrinkling with disgust at the fae guard.
These two were so much alike—a very bad thing for Aron.
“Just hold her hand, and she will show you.” Boyd puffed up, getting into my face.
“Isn’t that right, smelly little fish? You know how it is here.
Who’s in charge.” He nudged me, making sure I felt his threat pressing into my hip.
“Though I still need to break you in, put you on your knees.” His insinuation spread smugly over his face.
“Be careful,” I replied coolly. “Piranhas have sharp teeth and are known to bite . . . hard.”
“You do, fucking bitch, and you’ll know how it feels to have your intestines pulled out and stuffed down your throat.”
Aron lurched for Boyd, but I quickly moved in front of him, his chest smacking into my shoulder. Boyd’s gaze tracked our movements, his head tipping back in laughter.
“You are dumb as fuck.” He snickered at Aron. “Not a surprise with you humans. You better stick with her. She seems a bit smarter than you.” He stepped back. “Better hurry, you don’t want to be late on your first day.” He motioned for us to move. “After you.”
Taking a deep breath, I strode past him, catching sight of Lynx watching me from the door before stepping inside. I could never tell what she was thinking. Her gaze was always intense but neutral. I sensed many layers beneath it.
I went directly to my table, pulling out my pile of mending, not looking at either Lynx or Tess on either side of me, while Boyd heaved Aron over to Hexxus.
“85230,” Hexxus snarled at the new human, his gaze roaming over Aron like he was putrid food. “Station behind the other fish.” He pointed to a recently empty spot behind me, a victim in last week’s Games.
“What are those? Sewing machines?” Aron snorted. “Isn’t that women’s work?”
Holy fuck. Holy fuck. My teeth clenched together, my lids squeezing briefly at the silence following his statement.
The Aron I knew was back, his ego shoving common sense and everything I told him out of the way.
He had never been truly opposed in his life and was the epitome of entitled—praised, coddled, and rich and only getting reprimanded with a stern voice or his back to a mat.
All things he could walk away from and nothing really threatening.
He had no common sense in the real world.
“I mean, isn’t there something more useful for me to do?” He glanced around, as though his comment was perfectly reasonable. “Build shit. I don’t sew.”
Hexxus watched him, expressionless, tension growing as Aron seemed to realize the shocked silence was pointed at him. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his gaze fluttered to me.
Then Hexxus’s head tipped back, and he released a howl, the kind of laughter that set my teeth on edge. Not one of us moved or breathed. Hexxus’s hand slapped down on Aron’s shoulders, shaking his head with humor. A smile twitched on Aron’s face, and he joined in a little on Hexxus’s laughter.
“Right?” Aron motioned toward the machines, chuckling with Hexxus. “I’d be better doing something physical. Us guys don’t have a clue how to use those.”
“Oh, Boyd, you didn’t tell me our new guy here was so funny. He thinks this place is some kind of retreat where he can pick his own activities.” Hexxus patted Aron’s back.
It happened in a blink. Everything shifted.
Hexxus’s eyes became black, his skin turned white and paper-thin, stretching over his bones, his teeth snapping. He shoved Aron forward, his fury discharging like tangible particles in the air.
Crack!
The lash of the whip snapped across Aron’s back, knocking him to the ground with a scream.
Crack!
The sound of cloth, flesh, and muscle splintering apart ripped through the air. Aron’s screeches tore through my eardrums as he tried to crawl away.
Fury burst from Hexxus, his body vibrating with energy. The demon was fully in control; any sliver of humanity was gone. His arm lashed down over and over brutally with raging passion. With every strike, my skin echoed in understanding, recalling the unbelievable pain.
Strike after strike, Hexxus didn’t relent, and I wanted to scream for him to stop, to save my comrade. Bile filled my stomach, shooting up my throat, tears clouding my eyes.
Aron’s shrieks turned into full sobs, blood spurting and spilling from the wounds. “Brex,” he whimpered, his eyes pleading with mine. The survivalist in me told me to keep my mouth shut, not to get involved. My head twisted toward Lynx, her dark eyes meeting mine.
I got it—what she had done for me.
“No.” She shook her head, but I was already standing.
“Please, stop,” I begged, trying to swallow back the vomit in my throat. “Please don’t kill him.”
Hexxus’s arm stopped midair, his black eyes turning on me. Nerves down my neck twisted and jerked, feeling his anger turn on me.
“You dare stop me in the middle of my lesson?” Hexxus’s arm dropped, and blood splattered all over his face and clothes. “You think because you are in the Games, you are untouchable?”
“No, master.” I bowed my head. “I would never deem myself that high.”
“Good.” Hexxus nodded, his eyes shifting back to yellow. “Because you aren’t. You are nothing.”
An agonizing moan came from Aron, shifting Hexxus’s attention back down to his limp body. “Get this thing out of sight.” He kicked Aron’s ribs, glancing over at Boyd.
Boyd stared at me, a cruel smirk on his face, not moving. Hexxus’s eyes flipped between us with mystification.
“Boyd,” he spat. “Am I missing something?”
“No, sir.” Boyd kept his sleazy gaze on me as he strolled over to Aron, a leer twisting at his lips.
“Play with your pets on your own time,” Hexxus growled. “Get this piece of shit out of here. I’m sick of dealing with stupid, arrogant humans.”
“Don’t worry.” Boyd squatted down, grabbing Aron and easily lifting him over his shoulder. His gaze found mine again. “I know the perfect place for him.” His cruel smile widened as he carried Aron out of the room.
My throat tightened, fear poking between my ribs, sensing something more behind Boyd’s sentiment. Before I had time to analyze it, Hexxus was standing before me, his expression back to neutral.
“For what you just did?” He leaned in, Aron’s blood dotting his skin like freckles.
“I should lash you until your muscles could be used as floss.” His hand wrapped around my throat, his thumb pressing into the pulse at my neck.
He licked his lips, loving my terror. “But I have bets on the Games tonight, and feeling your fear as you get brutally torn apart in the ring?” With his free hand, he wiped Aron’s blood off his cheek with his finger, sucking it off.
“It will be such a high. It’s like the best fuck in the world.
And I will get off on your death tonight.
Enjoy it like a sweet wine.” He shoved me back, my ass knocking back into my chair.
He whirled around, his arms going up in the air.
“Everyone back to work. And thanks to your colleagues’ interruptions, there will be no breaks or food.”
Daggered glares and hisses shot toward me. Tess shook her head in loathing.
“Danger and violence,” Lynx murmured for only me to hear. “They follow you.”
I couldn’t disagree.
Relief eased down my shoulders as I started to work, but the sneer on Boyd’s face haunted me.
Whatever respite I got today, I would pay for later.