Chapter 15 #2
Dust coated her leathers, and a thin line of black blood traced down her cheek where the wind had kissed her skin, but she was alive.
“My turn,” she snarled, and suddenly the air around her shimmered like heat waves.
Jasila charged, her form splitting until ten identical figures raced across the pit with deadly grace. All bearing the same savage smile.
She—they—moved faster than I had ever seen her, covering the distance in mere heartbeats. With a flick of her wrist, something shifted in the air.
Belshin’s eyes rolled back, pupils disappearing into milky white nothingness.
She had stolen his sight.
But Jasila wasn’t done. As he stumbled, disoriented, she gestured again and his hands flew to his ears, face contorting in pain. She’d taken his hearing too, leaving him blind and deaf in a world of attacking shadows.
My hand flew to my mouth, stifling the sound trying to break through. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the brutality unfolding below.
The ten Jasilas surrounded him, striking from all sides.
Even blind and deaf, Belshin fought like a man possessed.
He caught one by the throat, only for her to dissolve into light.
Spun to block another’s strike, but his hand passed through empty air.
A third landed a vicious punch to his gut, knuckles driving deep into the soft flesh below his ribs.
He doubled over with the impact, grunting harshly.
Jasila appeared in front of him, her elbow connecting with his jaw in a crushing hit.
His head snapped back with sickening force. He staggered, feet sliding in the dirt, but still didn’t fall. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin onto his chest.
For a second, I thought it was surely over. He was broken. Beaten.
Then his lips curved into a terrifying grin.
The moment his sight returned—pupils bleeding back into those pale irises—everything changed. His head snapped toward her, realisation dawning on her face just a second too late.
Wind exploded from his body in a shockwave that flattened every illusion in an instant. The gust wrapped around Jasila like invisible chains, lifting her off the ground and suspending her midair. She struggled against the wind, but it held her fast in a prison of swirling currents.
With a sharp flick of his fingers, Belshin slammed her into the ground with bone-jarring force. Hard enough to crater it. Dust billowed up around her broken form.
Before she could recover, he was there, hauling her up by the leathers and driving his fist into her ribs with a sound like breaking wood.
From behind him, she conjured two more illusions. They struck—one from the left, fists connecting with his ribs, and the other diving straight for his back.
He spun just in time to catch the first by the throat, but the second’s fist slammed across his shoulders with a solid thud.
He snarled, spinning with a gust that shattered both mirages into fragments of light, his silver hair whipping around his face.
“Still too many tricks,” he growled.
She wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning. “And you still fall for them.”
Dalkhan prowled along the edge of the pit, pride radiating from every line of his body as his fighters tore each other apart, hands clasped behind his back and head held high.
Theo’s low whistle pierced through the tension. “Belshin’s stronger than I thought.”
“They both are,” I said, unable to look away as they circled each other like wolves.
Belshin lunged forward, grabbing her by the wrist and slamming her into the ground. She groaned, her body going limp for only a moment.
He leaned over her, one hand braced beside her head. “Yield.”
She spat dirt form her mouth. “Make me.”
Her body began to shimmer and bend, edges blurring and in a burst of light, she was gone, only to appear crouched behind him with one dagger pressed to his neck. The blade bit just deep enough to draw a thin line of blood.
“Yield,” she echoed, voice smug.
He huffed a laugh, shoulders shaking as he tilted his head. The blade pressed deeper, trickling more blood down his neck.
His hands remained loose at his sides, completely relaxed.
“Fine.”
Jasila let her guard down for all of two seconds before Belshin hit her with a surge of air, flipping her forward over his shoulder. He caught her mid-fall only to slam her back into the dirt, cracking the earth beneath her.
She wheezed, limbs splayed wide, laughing. The sound was broken and breathless, but it was filled with wild joy.
“I hate you,” she panted.
He leaned down, his hair falling forward as he offered her his hand and lifted her to her feet. Both of them were utterly wrecked—bleeding and covered in dirt and sweat—but were both grinning like maniacs.
Dalkhan stepped forward and clapped once, slow and amused. The sound cracked across the pit and the crowd exploded into chaos, hands slamming against stone, chanting their names until the air vibrated.
Dalkhan moved between them, gripping Belshin’s wrist and shooting it skyward. “Your victor!” he declared, his voice booming across the arena to the roaring masses.
The crowd went wild—cheering and whistling and stamping their feet until I thought the balcony might collapse. Belshin dipped his head in gracious acknowledgement, smile still stretched across his bloodied face as he basked in the adoration.
The crowds on the balcony thinned, people retreating through separate archways like ghosts dissolving into shadow. Some disappeared right before my eyes.
“Well?” Mira asked, rotating to face me. “Was I right, or was I right?”
I pushed off the railing with both hands, finally able to tear my eyes away from Dalkhan.
He was still in the pit, talking with Jasila and Belshin.
“You were right,” I admitted. “That was… fuck. That was incredible.”
Theo was trying to recreate some of the moves we’d witnessed on a very unwilling Tavrik, his hands moving in exaggerated arcs through the air while making ridiculous swooshing sounds. Tavrik stood rigid as stone with his jaw clenched, looking like he was about to toss him over the balcony.
“So, where do we g—”
My words were cut short when Iznia’s sneering face emerged through the remaining people. Her steps were purposeful and aggressive as she seared a path straight to me.
I couldn’t catch a break.
“Enjoyed watching your betters fight, little mortal?” Each word dripped with venom, her head angled down so she could stare at me through her lashes like I was something she’d scrape off her shoe.
I plastered on the fakest smile I could conjure, my cheeks aching with the effort as I nodded, my fingers curling into fists at my sides.
Her laugh was sharp and cruel as she caught the movement.
“It must be torture, knowing you’ll never be anything more than a fragile little plaything.” She inspected her nails with feigned disinterest. “Knowing your pathetic mortal body could never contain even a fraction of real power.”
Fury built up inside me, but I kept my expression neutral.
“Poor little human,” she continued, taking a step closer.
Her presence was suffocating, like breathing through wet cloth. Mira fidgeted beside me, her shoulder bumping mine in warning.
Tavrik and Theo had gone deadly still.
“You’ll never truly belong here, will you? Never be one of us.” Another step. “You’ll never live as long as us.”
Her voice dropped to a threatening whisper. “Never fuck like us. Never be worthy of someone like our king.”
She was close enough to see the shades of blue in her eyes. To smell vanilla mixed with something bitter on her skin.
“Are you finished?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “Because I have better things to do than listen to your tantrum.”
Her face twisted with rage as I turned away. “Come on, let’s—”
Her hand shot out, fingers gripping my throat with a promise of violence. “Don’t you dare turn your back on me, you disgusting mortal—”
Her words transformed into a violent scream that tore through the air.
Azmik materialised over my shoulders in an explosion of flame and fury, his head burning brighter than ever before. He struck at lightning speed, his mouth gaping wide to reveal fangs dripping with molten venom.
He buried them deep in her throat.
A wailing scream tore from her lips. Her hands flew to her neck, clawing at the burning flesh as she dropped to her knees. The crack of kneecaps striking stone echoed around us.
Every remaining person froze, staring at the unfolding chaos with wide, terrified eyes.
Iznia writhed in agony, her body contorting like she’d been set on fire from the inside out. Azmik slithered down my body, his scales scraping against my skin. He hissed, fangs still bared and dripping as he advanced on her fallen form.
The area around her throat began to bubble and blister, angry red burns spreading down her chest in a pattern that healed and renewed itself in an endless cycle of torment. She scrambled backwards on her hands, her cracked voice screaming.
Thunder rolled across the balcony—not from the sky, but from approaching footsteps.
Everyone’s heads dropped, but I couldn’t look away.
Dalkhan cut through the remaining crowd, bodies parting before him like he was a force of nature. He searched for me, scanning faces until his eyes locked with mine, his brows scrunched in confusion.
He looked down at Azmik, his gaze sharpening. Without uttering a single word, Azmik halted—his serpentine body going perfectly still.
Something passed between them, a communication beyond words.
Within seconds Dalkhan’s confusion transformed into pure rage. Flames came to life on his skin, hungry for destruction. He snarled, revealing his teeth.
Each step toward Iznia cracked the ground beneath his feet.
“You dared to put your hands on her!” The words exploded from him.
We all collectively held our breath, Mira’s hand tightening on my arm while Theo and Tavrik moved in closer.