Chapter 23 Olivia
TWENTY-THREE
Olivia
The centaurs led all of us except Kane toward a viewing platform.
I was confused at first—it was an open-air stone plaza, like the rest of their architecture in the city.
But within moments of our arrival, screens began to descend from the roof overhead, each with a different camera angle.
One-half of the platform was fixed on Flantian, the other, my mate.
Lucien’s grave expression as Asithius’s voice boomed over the crowd, detailing the horrible beast he was to fight, made my chest feel tight with anxiety. He stood tall and imposing, but something was off. Was he distracted? Did the paste I’d put on his scar burn?
I didn’t know, and it was too late to ask.
Too late to kiss him one more time. It felt like mere seconds—though it was probably longer—before the two charged past, cameras keeping pace as they raced toward the deep forest. I’d thought we might lose sight of them at the tree line, but the camera angle shifted, and suddenly, we were catching flashes of them between the trees.
Hidden cameras.
The whole forest must have been wired, because we never lost sight of Lucien for more than a few seconds as he raced and wove through the underbrush.
Fiona clutched my hand tighter, leaning in to speak quietly close to my ear, so that only I could hear amid the rowdy crowd. “You should be proud. He’s shown incredible bravery for our pack.”
And it was true, he had. He’d proven himself once again to be a worthy male, a worthy mate. He was doing this for me, not just for the pack; there was no denying it.
I felt better since we’d talked outside his door, since I knew I’d sent him off in the best way I could. At least we hadn’t left things broken between us to distract him. Because once he’d shifted into wolf form, all traces of distraction had fled.
He was a hunting machine. No, he was a killing machine.
I shuddered, my nerves climbing as I watched him freeze on screen, the clarity so good and the screens so enormous, I could see the faint twitch of his nose as he scented something unknown in the air.
And then, to my surprise, he dropped down and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
It was torture not knowing why he’d stopped. The cameras focused on him, not showing us his surroundings. But he looked calm enough.
I turned around, seeing that Flantian was working on a rough spear, not charging deeper into the woods unarmed, which was smart. He didn’t have a wolf’s fangs.
The initial energy of the crowd had waned a little, several groups of centaurs wandering off, as if the challenge had ended.
“What’s going on?” I asked Reed, because he was standing closest in the crowd, beside Fiona.
“I’m not sure, but I overheard a few people say it was going to be a while. The infernabist might be nocturnal?”
Elodie spoke up. “I’ll go mingle, ask around. Maybe we can get a little more intel on what to expect.”
“Thank you.” I gave her a grateful smile, even though it felt weak. Everyone else might be bored, but the other half of me was on that screen. And I wasn’t going to take my eyes off him, not until he came back to me, healthy and safe.
I didn’t care if he won, even though I knew I should. But who the hell cared what you should do when your mate’s life was on the line?
This thing between us was so new, so fragile… the idea of it being severed so soon was soul crushing. So I watched him, and I willed every bit of my strength, my hope, my fledgling feelings toward him. Maybe the Goddess, the Universe, was listening.
Eventually, Flantian finished his pair of differently sized spears and trotted deeper into the forest. Lucien was still lying in wait when Elodie returned to our group over an hour later.
“So, apparently, they don’t tell the challengers, but they watch the infernabists’ migration patterns to know where they are and where to send the contestants.
They intentionally put them in the forest at the opposite end of the ugly buggers, to give the contestants time to either prepare or grow complacent.
It shouldn’t be long before the herd starts to move, and we’ll see more action. ”
I nodded as she spoke, thinking that all made sense and lined up with what we were seeing. It made me wonder where Lucien had decided to wait, but we wouldn’t know that until he began to move again.
“Did anyone say what one of these looks like?”
Elodie grimaced. “No, they all grinned when I asked. Nobody would say anything other than ‘You’ll know when you see it.’ I don’t think that bodes well.
Apparently, they only live on this island or in the nine hells.
One of the centaurs tried to spin me a story that Hades sent them up from the underworld to punish a great hero of the past who’d pissed him off. ”
Dear Goddess, please let him return to me safely. The silent prayer was paltry, but with shaking hands and terror in my heart, there was nothing else I could do. The endless waiting was maddening, even though wolf-Lucien looked cool as could be on the screen.
Gael snorted. “The Greeks and their mythology, eh?”
“Yep,” Elodie agreed, falling silent as she rejoined our watch party.
An announcement came over the speakers. “Greetings, watchers. The infernabist herd is on the move. Contact expected with a champion in ninety seconds. As a reminder, this is a sacrificial challenge,” the voice said with a chipper lilt before abruptly cutting off.
“What the fuck is a sacrificial challenge? Aren’t they just supposed to hunt a giant demon pig?” Leigh asked, glancing around with arched eyebrows at the gathered centaurs.
To my surprise, a barrel-chested male with slicked-back hair turned our way and answered her. “A sacrificial challenge is rare. It’s only issued when the elders have something of grave importance on the line, worthy of sacrificing a challenger’s life.”
“Umm, what? They’re going to kill one of them?” I hated the way my voice squeaked on the question, but the mental image I had wasn’t good.
“No, but infernabist saliva is toxic. The challenge here isn’t truly the hunt.
Flantian’s instructions were different from those they gave your pack mate.
Flantian could never hope to bring down an infernabist with a weapon as paltry as a sharpened stick.
Their cursed hides are nearly impenetrable.
His task is to sacrifice himself to one of the beasts.
If your pack mate knowingly abandons Flantian to pursue his own hunt, he has lost, even if he succeeds in the herculean task of felling one, which is unlikely. ”
Fresh horror swallowed me, creeping up from my toes and closing over my head.
They were willing to sacrifice one of their own in order to keep the stone from us? Did Kane know the rules? Had he agreed to test Lucien this way? Or had it been sprung on him after it was too late to stop too?
My grip on Fiona’s fingers tightened, the simple touch the only thing keeping me upright as I swayed on my feet. A strong grip on my shoulder had me blinking upward to see it was Elodie who had bolstered me.
“He’s going to be fine. He’s a good male, underneath all his cheeky bravado. Remember that,” she whispered, giving my shoulder a supportive squeeze but not letting go.
Within minutes, the sound of earsplitting squeals and racing hooves dragged our attention toward the other half of the plaza, where Flantian ran, dodging branches with acrobatic ease, spear in hand, a ferocious determination in the set of his jaws, the flat look in his eyes.
He was a man resigned to a gory, brutal death, and I didn’t know how I’d ever missed it now that I knew. The cameras didn’t show the infernabists yet, and my anxiety swelled yet again at the amount of noise they were making.
I turned away, unable to bear another second of staring at Flantian’s doomed expression.
When I blinked back up at the screen, Lucien’s wolf was on his feet, staring intently to where I was sure he could hear the oncoming herd. And a moment later, I almost lost my lunch at the sight that unfolded above me.
The most horrifying beings I’d ever seen scrambled into view, their stubby legs churning up the earth, their rotten, charred-looking flesh something out of a zombie film or a horror flick.
But still, I couldn’t look away as Lucien tensed, waited, poised to join the hunt.
He let Flantian gallop past and then fell in, waiting for his chance.
He didn’t have to wait long. Flantian threw his useless spear, startling the herd into splitting, and then the champions were separated again. I watched, barely breathing, as Lucien chased his foul prey through the deep shadows of the forest.
Wolf shifters—especially alphas, like Lucien—were no small creatures. But the pig beast towered over him, at least half as tall again and nearly twice as wide. His great bulk alone was a danger, let alone the wicked spines on his front legs or his evil curved and crossed tusks.
I didn’t know how much time had passed as we watched, all clutching each other as if our pack mates were life rafts, the only thing to cling to in a sea of uncertainty.
The wind picked up and began to gust, and when I spared a glance for Fiona, I saw her eyes had gone amber.
The skin around them was dark blue as she fought for control of her djinn side.
“Easy, Stormy.” Reed’s murmur was the only sound on the viewing platform now, as we were held captive, victims to the hunt in our own way.
A pained scream tore itself from the crowd behind us, the sick crunch of bone telling me the sacrifice had begun.
But I couldn’t see Flantian anywhere on Lucien’s screen.
It was only the infernabist, and I watched, rapt, as Lucien’s wolf leapt gracefully atop the giant creature’s back, fangs sinking into its thick neck like a hot knife through butter.
And that was when I saw Flantian. The corner of the camera caught him in the clearing, losing against his own demon pig. Blood soaked into the ground, one of his beautiful chestnut legs bent at an awful angle.
I couldn’t bear to look, but I also couldn’t stand to look away. They were both in grave danger, and there wasn’t a damn fucking thing I could do about it.
“Please, please, please,” I whispered, on the verge of tears as I watched it unfold. Lucien took down his beast, executing a clean jump away before the beast could crush him with its excessive bulk as it fell.
I knew the moment Lucien spotted Flantian, wounded and under attack. He had no time and a terrible decision to make.
Lucien’s head turned back toward his prey, and then, he was airborne.
Not toward his fallen beast, but toward Flantian’s, which was charging in to take another chunk out of Flantian’s flank, now that his abdomen was bleeding like his skin was a sieve.
Lucien’s attack startled the beast, and it squealed, trying and succeeding to shake him off, since the angle wasn’t as good as Lucien’s first attack had been. Lucien flew sideways, crashing hard into the twisted trunk of a tree.
But rather than follow, the startled infernabist charged toward a cave across the clearing, its stunned counterpart doing the same a moment later, leaving the two challengers alone.
Lucien shook himself hard, staggering back to his feet as if winded, and limped over to Flantian’s side. A moment later, his fur receded, and a very naked Lucien loomed over the downed centaur, dropping to his knees to apply pressure to his wound.
“Do you have a way to call for help?” he asked, and I nearly wept with relief.
He was alive, and he was passing the test. But on top of that, vibrant red marks curled over his side, disappearing around to the front of his chest. I knew without a doubt that they matched the lines on my own side.
I let my eyes rove over his masculine beauty, enjoying every splash of color now painted over his chiseled physique.
They made him look even more fierce, and as his eyes glowed soft orange with his wolf, he looked like a wild man from a fairy tale.
Lucien had gotten his mate marks.