35. Chapter 35
Chapter 35
U nsettled by the lingering souls of those killed, Imani’s magic tried to break free from its cage as she stepped onto the gravel to face her opponent. They snarled in response. Her shadows of death hungered to claim Aiden for themselves. A knot of nervous energy settled in her gut.
The spectators chanted, jumping up and down, their fists in the air, and Imani scanned the mass of hungry people. They screamed for her , and she fed off the overwhelming energy of the crowd, enjoying their bloodlust.
With a deep breath, she revealed herself. Lifting her chin, she ripped all the glamour away. In a moment of clarity, her entire body burst into glittering life. Elf magic pulsed from her like never before. A deafening cacophony overwhelmed her senses as the crowd responded, shrieking. Their shouts were barbaric and bloodthirsty. Her soul draw pulsed, sucking them all toward her.
Putting on a show like Esa, she sauntered forward. Locking her face into a neutral expression, she let the draw distract the spectators while dimming the other dark magic in her signature. They weren’t ready for her illegal magic—her shadows—and hand-to-hand fights, like tonight, would be the most challenging test of her control. She needed all her available advantages.
With her marred face, large bright blue eyes, and luminescent skin, Imani imagined she was a sight. Maybe beautiful. Definitely horrible. But either way, it blinded everyone, pulling anyone not mated into her thrall.
She could feel it all now. Their eyes were fixed on her like an obsession. The thought was liberating and intoxicating.
Although her illicit magic still pulsed against the restraints she’d placed on it, she wasn’t afraid of the crowd. No one could charge past the barriers, despite the catcalls, whistles, and shouts directed at her. Kiran had fortified them himself—she sensed his magic signature all around them.
Imani had thought about her strategy for a few days now, although anything she tried would fail. She’d seen Aiden’s death and wasn’t the one to kill him. But she had to try.
A familiar sensation slowly took over, one that had taunted Imani for years.
Unlike other Norn elves, she had a fixation—death, death, death—and the obsession with feeding on an entire soul had nearly driven her to madness when she was a little elf. She’d accidentally ripped her grandfather’s soul from his living body the day she’d killed him as a child before devouring it. She hadn’t needed to take the whole thing, only a piece, but she had lost control. It had shocked and horrified her parents because, although Norn could presumably do it, it was unthinkable behavior—and no one lost control. Yet Imani couldn’t stop herself, even after the sadness she’d experienced from her grandfather’s death.
But, lately, since the emergence of her shadows, the urges had been riding her harder than ever. Why the temptation had always been so much harder for her to lock down than any other Norn remained a mystery. She used to hate herself for it, and maybe part of her still did.
Today, she’d give in to the desire. Her grandfather’s death had been an accident, but this would be intentional. After all, to most people, it would seem as if she were simply breathing near him, and a soul draw wasn’t illegal. There would be no blood involved, either.
Imani palmed sand over her sweaty hands, digging her heels into the dirt.
Prince Tanyl and his mother watched on from the troupe box. The queen was perfect and delicate with her light hair and the long, thin branches from the Crown of Life growing out of her forehead, but she seemed only slightly interested in the duels. Her son looked like the pinnacle of the leimoniad breed—a powerful, handsome male nymph, wearing a striking fur cloak, his sandy hair adorned with a circlet. Tanyl’s hands were steepled, and his narrowed, sky-gray eyes stayed locked on her from above.
At the opposite end, Kiran’s face was without his characteristic amusement. Arms crossed tight over his chest, he leaned back with an eager, discerning look on his sharp features. His chest seemed broader than usual, and he wore no cloak. Were Niflheim truly as cold as they said?
Saevel sat unmoving, forward, with his arms on his knees, watching Aiden. Unlike his Essenheim counterpart, the Niflheim heir apparent wore no circlet today, but his status was undeniable.
Aiden wore the same fighting leathers and sandals as her, but they couldn’t be more opposite otherwise. For the two of them to fight to the death was practically comical.
He was gigantic compared to Imani, with thick corded legs and arms as solid as a tree trunk.
Elegant yet tight, functional braids held Imani’s silver hair in a complicated knot. The arches of her elven ears were evident to all, as was the crack of scarring down her porcelain skin. Nevertheless, she was determined to die looking like herself.
The only thing they had in common now were the matching wild expressions on their faces.
Saevel lifted his hand, and silence fell instantly. “The female High-Norn elf will take on the male high leonine shifter,” he said.
As customary, Aiden bowed to Imani first.
She returned the gesture. But she lifted her wand on a whim and pointed it at Aiden in the ultimate signal of disrespect.
Twisting his hand, Saevel signaled the start. Everyone fixed their gazes on the elf and the shifter.
Choruses, cheers, and screams twisted people’s faces, and piercing, shrieking whistles spewed from their lips. The queen and the princes bore down on the two of them. The weight of their gazes was immense enough to make her skin prickle.
Aiden’s scowl deepened, and she went invisible.
Confusion flashed on his face. It sent delicious pleasure through Imani, but he recovered quickly and charged with a loud, angry incantation.
Barely a second to respond, she bolted to the left, moving right before he flung his first attack at her. A force of water flew by, mere inches away from her face.
They were simply warming up.
He would shift soon. Otherwise, she could use her soul draw on him.
It didn’t matter. She was reasonably sure she could still drag his soul out of him in shifted form, but a small part couldn’t be sure.
Under pressure and unsure, Imani’s instincts grew sharper. Still invisible, she went on the defensive for a while. She didn’t have a defensive brand, but she held her own. There were now dozens of enchantments and illusion spells she could use. Imani needed time to analyze his fighting style. She’d find his weaknesses, anticipate his moves, and adjust. Although her soul draw raged, he never once looked her in the eyes. Imani silently begged him to—if he did, she could take control.
Damn the heartmate binding he and Nida had. It would make it harder to get his attention.
Mud sprayed them both as the leonine threw magic at her relentlessly. Each time he did, the crowd grew louder and more savage. Soon, wet dirt caked their clothes, and each intake of breath sent pain through her chest. Her shadows clamored to be released. But she quelled them as Aiden ambled off to the side to catch his breath.
He stood unfocused while he tried to resist her thrall. It called to him, making him sloppy. His eyes fluttered open and shut as he fought for concentration. His breathing became slightly labored. His arm muscles trembled from the effort of holding his wand upright. It gave her confidence.
The onlookers were a blur of color as she parried fast.
“You can’t continue like this,” she shouted to Aiden. She needed him still enough for her to focus on looking into his eyes.
She shifted her gaze to the stands where Kiran observed with amusement twisting his features. It spurred her on, and she bared her teeth at her opponent.
But Aiden didn’t stop. Like in the melee, he could smell her. Chasing her back, he moved closer, crowding her with his size.
A deep, guttural roar ripped from his chest, and then a massive lion stood before her. She’d never seen him shift before. Not even at the melee. The animal’s sheer size and sudden ferocity were enough to send her stepping back.
Disappointment sank in her stomach.
Shifting was smart. Even though he couldn’t cast magic, Aiden could resist her draw in this form, and it would probably be more challenging for her to latch on to his signature.
He herded her, massive paws lashing out and blocking any attempt to evade, even while she was invisible.
Her fear spiked to an unbearable level as he pushed her deeper into the darkened corner of the arena. Frantic, her thoughts raced as she struggled to find a way to move close enough to this beast without getting killed.
Aiden must have sensed how close he was to drawing blood and backed off. It was a tricky rule the Niflheim brothers had devised. The witches’ magic would have to be precise, perfectly controlled, and powerful enough to kill someone without bleeding.
Pacing around her, he opened his huge maw and roared in her face—a booming sound laced with animalistic ferocity. It rattled her bones, yet a determined will to survive rose to the surface inside her. It cut through the other noise and clutter. She’d been void of magic all these years, but now she had an arsenal.
In a blink, all the barriers she’d mentally constructed broke. The entirety of her power ripped through her core as the confines holding the darkness shattered, blackening her veins. Luckily, hidden underneath the mud, no one noticed.
Covered in grime, she stood in her true, raw , shadowed form, uncaring to hold even the invisibility illusion over her body anymore.
No, no, no. Now wasn’t the time to lose control.
The world blurred around her again, and she threw her head back, unable to catch a breath. Chest heaving, trying to keep the shadows from releasing their dark force, she pointed her wand upward and called the energy back.
A flash of lightning crackled above, and people started shouting and pointing at the darkness churning above. They all grabbed the railing and craned their necks to see better.
Moving like a shadow, she didn’t waste time. She pushed off the wall, shouted an incantation, and flew at the lion. Her magic was free, but the threat would disappear if she could kill him quickly.
Across the arena, Aiden rumbled a warning growl.
Imani’s spell built again when he moved toward her. Wisps of shadows burst forth and blew through the fieldhouse like gusts of wind. Those watching closely might be able to tell she was casting magic, but Imani wasn’t sure. The shadows started cornering the lion, ready to coil themselves around him and cut off his air.
She stole a glance at the troupe boxes.
Tanyl’s face was unreadable. The queen glared. Saevel laughed. Kiran’s brows snapped together as he looked down at her.
Trembling, Imani tried to call the shadows back again. Slinking backward, they listened, but it was slow, and tendrils of smoke covered the ground around Aiden.
Kiran stood now, gripping the railing. His once-bored features were now twisted in anger, and for one horrifying second, his entity revealed itself, snarling in dire warning. Warning for her to stop. Of that, she was sure.
Imani threw what little strength she had left into dragging her shadow magic back into her signature. But in her weakened state, it had little effect. Barely contained within the shell of her physical body, every image and scene of fright and foreboding, shame, shock, misery, bloodshed, and agony—it all came to a head—and the storm above was too much for her to handle.
Her control wavered again. Inky magic surrounded her. Her hands were now entirely black, and ghastly fingertips left her body and whirled around the corpses off to the side. She stared at Kiran’s face, the horror all-consuming, as power poured off her, forming thick columns of shadows that rose into the sky. The still-invisible red ink of the brand on her arm burned as she flipped her wand and raised her hands. The magic above them was vast and thick, swirling into menacing clouds.
Something awful moved inside the cloud—an evil entity. Imani remembered the first time the magic inside Kiran had reared its head. It reminded her of that.
Releasing her darkness—the mist-like substance of death—was something the world wasn’t ready to see and could never unsee. It would spray blood on her if it eviscerated Aiden. She could use the shadow magic but not the darkness.
The leonine shifter paced anxiously, sensing the unease in the air. Groaning, roiling clouds of Imani’s shadows coalesced in a crescendo directly above them. Thankfully, it appeared as if a storm brewed, and people covered their heads with coats and hats, expecting rain.
Aiden roared and batted his massive paw at her, risking blood to demand she step back. Moving forward with her wand aimed at his chest and her little fangs bared, she was ready for the whole stadium to watch her devour his soul. She would end this now. Once she killed Aiden, the threat would be gone, and the darkness would return to her.
With his eyes on her in fear, she tugged at his signature.
A boom sounded, and thunder rumbled dangerously above them. It made both Aiden and Imani tip their heads up. The lightning came in wild bursts, one after another. A feeling of falling surrounded them as the ground fell away.
The reality of their surroundings shifted, not unlike when her parents had died. Among the splices of the world, moving pictures of what appeared to be another realm flashed in front of her. It had to be. Imani had never seen anything like it. These bits and pieces were terrifying. It was as if a thousand eyes stared at her.
Souls. Alive. Some dead. Some didn’t belong here. Some didn’t belong there , either, didn’t belong anywhere. The beings all spotted her and immediately shouted, demanding her attention and pulling her.
So many dead. As if they fed from her and threatened to collapse her body.
It lasted only a second.
A fierce pull grabbed her in the chest—a painful snap. Whipping her gaze to the side, Kiran stood up from his seat, his body rigid, holding his wand. Rage and abhorrence heaved up his shoulders, all directed at her. His lips curled, hands rolling into fists, as if her attempt to save her own life had sent him over the edge of sanity.
His mismatched eyes penetrated the fog of chaos and mud, and Imani jolted as their gazes locked. Both irises glowed like fires raging in the distance, grabbing onto her, yanking her back to reality, and filling her lungs with air. Indeed, something about his reaction hit her head-on. A small part of her needed whatever controlling magic he used on her signature.
Self-preservation kicked in. The situation was far too dangerous, not only for Aiden.
Her magic brewed a Fabric event. She had to find a way to pull back her darkness, or they would all die. She couldn’t let any more damage come to the magic of this world because of her.
Fighting for control, she summoned any bit of strength she possessed to pull her magic back inside. Arms spread, screaming, it slammed into her all at once, knocking the wind out of her lungs.
She fell to the ground, coughing, laying on her back.
Shouts and murmurs broke out into the crowd, confusion reigning.
The clouds cleared, and the Fabric danced above them once again, stars twinkling as if nothing had happened.
Aiden drove toward her. He was half-shifted, something she’d never seen before, and the disturbing sight could only mean one thing in her mind—he was now over the edge, ready to destroy her by any means possible.
Dragging herself upright and barely breathing, she jumped up and veered left, smashing him with her fist. It was like hitting concrete.
Groaning, she fell backward, slipping in the mud. Imani cursed her magic when her head hit hard against the ground. Disoriented, it took her longer than she wanted to stand.
Aiden didn’t waste time. Needing access to his magic again, he shifted back into his skin and roared as if he’d been playing a game before but now was ready to kill.
He whipped his wand from his pocket, immediately pummeling her with magic. The rain he created hit her like needles, and she tripped in the wet dirt again.
The water started coalescing around her. Building it into something larger, something far more dangerous, he aimed to drown her.
She tried to crawl away, but he grabbed her ankle.
She struggled against him like an animal caught in a trap. She went wild, kicking, screaming, thrashing, pushing out as much magic as she could whisper without losing control.
An undeniable sense of loss crashed over her.
Flickers of pure dark still escaped her weakened body, and the torches they’d lit in the stadium dimmed and brightened repeatedly. She took the deepest breath she could and ripped it all back inside. The darkness fought harder against her, but she would not let it out for anything.
Her downfall wouldn’t be long now. Without her shadows, darkness, or a miracle, Aiden would kill her soon. She had maybe a few more minutes to act, or she would die.
Her own death swirled around her. Aiden sensed it the second the threat disappeared. He tilted his head to the side in recognition of her weakness and twisted her arm to pull her up. Imani didn’t even see him coming when some combination of his magic slammed her against the wall.
An inhuman screech came from her, one she’d never made before. While not deep enough to kill her, blood dribbled down her chest from a long gash across her collarbone.
He had barely missed her artery.
Eyes wide with fear at what he’d done, Aiden didn’t blink or move.
The whole crowd grew utterly silent while the red mixed with the mud on her pale skin.