Clash of Queens (Veilblood Academy #3)

1. Izzy

IZZY

“What? How…?” Saldrea’s eyes went wide, stunned.

I surged healing into myself and through the bond into Myel. I had no time to target our worst injuries and used too much anima but I didn’t care. I needed to save Myel.

Vyns had been helping me, lending me strength through our bond in spirit, and I drew even more from him now, to ensure Myel was no longer in danger. But as my wounds closed and Myel gasped, returning from the brink of death, the spirit energy from Vyns… suddenly stopped.

I had no time to worry about what that meant. Saldrea would only be stunned for an instant. I had to act now.

Summoning an earthen wedge from the arena floor, I drove it up between Saldrea and Myel, pushing them apart. And once he was safely away from her, I launched myself at the false princess.

Saldrea recovered quickly, using her earth magic to throw up a stone wall between us.

Perhaps it was the incredible surge of spirit from Vyns, or the clarity of mind from Rook, or the primal energy which came from returning from death’s door, but I was sharp as a razor’s edge and nothing would stop me.

I saw the stone wall begin to form and crushed it with my own earth magic, forcing another wall up behind Saldrea to block her escape.

She stumbled backward into my wall as terror painted her features. It was high time the false princess experienced the dread she so loved to inspire in others.

“No, please, no!” she cried out as I reached her. She tried to block my strike, but I was too fast, my fist connecting with her face.

I didn’t consider myself a violent person, but it was hard to describe the satisfaction I got from that one hit.

I’d dreamed of slapping the smug superiority off Saldrea’s face for so long, and finally being able to do so, felt so damned good.

It was like finishing a diet and finally allowing myself to have the cheesecake I’d put in the freezer as a reward.

That level of sinful delight… yeah… that’s what this felt like.

I hit Saldrea so hard her head bounced off the stone wall behind her with a hollow thud.

“Surrender and I’ll be far kinder to you than you were to me,” I hissed, because I was a good person. I’d give her a chance to stop this madness, no matter how much I wanted to hit her again.

With my mind clearer than it had ever been — thanks to Rook taking away my thoughts of doubt and uncertainty — I caught the quick flash of emotion in Saldrea’s eyes: fear and defeat, then defiance and disgust. Even as her lip curled in a snarl and her mouth began to open for some snappy comeback, I hit her again.

Her head twisted to the side and bounced off the wall again. I clamped my other hand around her neck while she was stunned and lifted her, pinning her to the wall, restricting her air.

“Wrong choice!” I growled as I forced a binding on her.

A few days ago, I’d had no clue how to do this, but thanks to Lhorine’s training, I’d broken two binding collars and used several bindings to enhance Myel for his deathmatch.

I’d come a long way in a short time, and since so much of my training had been on breaking bindings, I focused on making this one as resilient and hard to break as possible.

I built a fortress of restrictions around the woman.

“Your punishment is to know your own pain!” I hissed as I carved the intricacies of the spell into her bones.

Any time Saldrea thought about hurting someone else, she’d suffer the pain she planned to inflict back on herself.

That hadn’t been anything Lhorine had taught me.

I hadn’t known a binding could do such a thing, but that was what I wished upon her, and my will imprinted on her soul.

Saldrea slumped to the ground, a shocked look on her pristine features. Well, pristine except for the bruises forming on her cheek.

“How…?” she breathed, then twitched in pain. “Ah, fuck!” she hissed. I guessed she’d envisioned hurting me and felt the repercussions.

The once proud woman shrank in on herself as the finality of my victory sank in. Like all bullies, when put in their place, the pitiful coward beneath came out.

“Please…” she begged. “I—” Her eyes went wide and she began gasping. Even while begging, she’d thought about hurting me, probably strangling me, given how she was choking on nothing.

I shook my head, disgusted at this petty and vindictive woman, leaving her to her self-inflicted suffering as I went to tend to Myel.

Despite my initial healing, he was still in a bad way.

I’d yanked him back from the brink of death, but he’d lost a lot of blood, not to mention vital organs.

I’d stabilized him, but he was still unconscious.

Sitting heavily beside him — so very done with today — I pulled him into my lap and used what little strength I had left to heal him fully.

His body went still, but in a good way, relaxed, no longer in pain, resting.

And with that I breathed a heavy sigh.

It was over.

I’d faced Saldrea and won, by some miracle.

Slowly I became aware of a roaring sound.

My world had contracted down to two people: defeating Saldrea and healing Myel.

Now that I’d done that, the rest of the world gradually returned, and I realized the crowd in the arena had gone wild.

I looked around, a little stunned to remember I’d had an audience for everything which had just transpired.

I couldn’t help a sour grimace as I wondered if they’d have cheered this loud for Saldrea. This had been a deathmatch after all. Had these people simply wished to see someone suffer? Did they care who?

Yet something about the cheering belied my bitter thoughts.

As much as these people may have come for a gruesome spectacle, there seemed to be a note of…

relief in their acclaim, a release of tension.

I hadn’t gone to many sporting events in my life, most of my experience with such things was through movies.

This felt like one of those: “the underdog pulled out a win in the last seconds of the game” type of “oh my God, I can’t believe we won” sort of cheers.

They probably would have cheered if Saldrea had won, but only because they feared not doing so.

Now they went wild because a tyrant had finally been defeated.

I recalled the statement I’d made to the authorities yesterday. I will face her, knowing I’ll find justice and peace. May my fate be an example to all those who might challenge the rule of the elves.

And as I’d hoped, the words had been prophetic of my victory. The crowd seemed to realize the same thing. They couldn’t stop cheering, if anything it got louder. Then a chant started. My name: “Izzy!” over and over.

And though the crowd was near to deafening, I heard my name shouted by a different voice over the tumult.

I turned. Koar rushed toward me. In the tunnel behind him, leading to the marshalling area off the arena floor, Saldrea’s minions were being subdued by titans.

Titans?

Hadn’t the titans been protecting the false princess and her crew?

I’d missed something.

Hell, I’d probably missed a lot of things.

That’s when I remembered the strange disconnection from Vyns’ spirit.

“Fuck,” I whispered. Was he okay?

Koar practically threw himself at me, sliding on his knees through the sand and dust of the arena floor to wrap his arms around me.

This was new.

“I was an idiot to turn you down. I’m all in, if you’ll have me,” he whispered, his voice breaking with the emotion flowing through him. Was he crying? “I’m so sorry you had to go through that! I’m here now. What do you need?”

Wow… ah… okay…

I mean, yay for having a big, strong man wrap incredibly thick arms around me and profess his feelings, but it was a lot to process.

“Vyns,” I murmured. “Is Vyns okay?”

“Is who…?” Koar released his bear hug to sit back and look at me with a questioning expression, one brow raised. Then he gave a strange choking laugh. “You’re a bloody mess, but you’re worried about Vyns right now?”

Yup. It seemed so.

Vyns is okay, Rook spoke into my mind. He must have heard my concerned thoughts. He’s passed out, but he’s still breathing, still alive.

Oh, thank God! And thank you. I gave a long mental sigh.

I’m on the same level as a god, huh? I’ll take it.

And… we still need to talk, don’t we? I asked. He’d said as much — had it been only yesterday? — but we’d never had the chance. And when he’d linked to my thoughts to clear my head of all the fear and doubt and apprehension… he’d also said he loved me. That was… huge!

Yup. He sounded terrified. I took that as a good sign.

I hoped he would finally explain why he’d ghosted me.

I was still a little upset about that. Though the fact that he’d come through for me when it counted went a long way toward erasing that debt.

It was a pattern with him: putting himself in my bad books, then dragging himself back out.

“I’ll check on Vyns,” Koar said, starting to leave. The big man had no clue I’d just talked to Rook.

I grabbed his iron-hard arm and pulled him back.

“No, stay. Vyns is okay.”

Koar looked confused, but he settled back down, arms around me once again, holding me close, while I held Myel close to my chest.

“You’ll pay for this!” Saldrea spat. “I’ll—” She tried to rise, but her body shook violently. Nasty wounds opened up on her face and arms. She really needed to control those violent thoughts, or she was going to kill herself.

“What…?” Koar asked as he watched the false princess roll around screaming.

“I put a binding on her, so she’ll suffer any harm she wishes on others.”

His eyes went hard as he nodded. “She needs a taste of her own medicine.”

The noise from the crowd started to die down, the cheering and chanting replaced with an excited hubbub. When I looked, everyone had their phones out, taking pictures. A tyrant had fallen, and they all wanted proof to share with others.

I should have been excited that Saldrea was no longer a threat, but all I felt was tired. A bone-weary exhaustion swept over me, and now that I was safe in Koar’s arms, I let it run its course.

My eyes fluttered shut, but even as my awareness faded, I couldn’t help but think: if I wish to claim my throne and change this messed up world, this was only my first fight. Things were going to get worse before they got better… probably a lot worse.