Chapter 36
Aryana
“Zarathos, Zarathos, Zarathos.”
He lay unmoving and panic arched up her throat. She pulled on the chains, the strength from his blood making her powerful, like she might snap metal. The hook on the ceiling groaned as she bounced, her feet lightly touching the floor as she pulled.
It protested again but didn’t break. Damn it.
She couldn't get enough purchase to leverage her body infused with Zarathos’s strange blood.
A knock at the door caused her to still. “Help! Come in! Zarathos is hurt!”
But they were unable to enter, she realized with a sickening twist of her stomach. Only Zarathos possessed the authority to permit entry to his bedchamber.
The handle jiggled and two guards burst into the room.
Aryana’s mouth dropped open. “How did you get in?”
“You are his Bloodbound. Aren’t you?” one guard said sourly.
They looked between Aryana and Zarathos, still laying naked on the floor. And laughed.
“Why are you laughing? Help him! H-he might have lost too much blood.”
“If that’s the case, then he definitely won’t be making it through the next round of the trials.” The first guard sneered at him.
Her heart plummeted. “Please, he needs help.”
“We are only here for you.” He found the key off of the vanity and sauntered over to her. “Damn, what did he do to you?”
Zarathos’s cum and blood covered her completely from head to toe.
But she didn’t care. She glared at him as he unlocked her hands from the shackles before shoving him out of the way and rushing to Zarathos’s side, pressing a palm to his face. “Zarathos?”
His skin felt clammy, and her heartbeat pounded harsher. But then his eyes fluttered open.
“Zarathos!” she gasped. “Are you… What have you… Why did you do this?”
“Go with them. I’ll be…” He swallowed and gave her a wan smile. “I’ll be there soon. Keep us both safe, Vampress.”
“Let’s move.” A guard grabbed her arm and dragged her back. She hissed and turned to ram the spear he held into his throat.
“Hey! Calm down.” The other demon raised his spear in defense, jutting it toward her.
“Go, Aryana,” Zarathos muttered. “Save the fighting for when you need it. I’ll… be there… soon.”
How could she leave him in this state?
“Go,” Zarathos insisted. He met her gaze, and she saw something there that almost broke her. The trust, the understanding—the adoration?
Had she misjudged the demon king this whole time?
“I will find you. I will find you, Zarathos. Don’t die.”
“You too, Vampress.”
And she let the guards and their pathetic spears lead her out of the room. They walked down the hallway, her mind whirling. What prompted him to do this? What was coming? If it was the next trial, the timing couldn’t be worse. She trembled within the guard’s hold.
They dragged her down several flights of stairs until they’d reached the windowless corridors that led to her cell. The guards’ grasp on her arm was unrelenting. Low voices reached her ears.
“I’m doing everything. Offering everything for this. Look what I have gone through and you—”
“Remember why. Remember this…” There was a rustling of paper. “This is the plan.”
As soon as they rounded the corner, both she and the guards ground to a halt.
Tigon stood at the far end of the hall, his bulk towering over his kalator, Neri.
She held an empty potion bottle in her hand, while Tigon held a map out to her.
The coloring and symbols on the map reminded Aryana of the kind her uncle often used to make battle plans.
Three kingdoms on the map were circled. Kingdom Aeria, the vampire kingdom, and the human kingdom.
Tigon's and Neri’s gazes locked with Aryana and the guard. Tigon quickly stuffed the map in his pocket, yanked the empty potion bottle from Neri, and then slammed the human with his massive fist so hard she went sprawling onto the ground. Aryana flinched, her whole body tensing.
“Take this one with you while you’re at it,” Tigon commanded, before lumbering around the corner and out of sight.
Aryana dislodged herself from the guards’ grasp and raced over to Neri, who was pushing herself up on shaking arms.
“I’ll be fine,” Neri said. She looked up at Aryana, her eyes widening. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I finally decided I wanted to look like the rest of you,” Aryana said.
Neri sniffed. “I don’t think you are quite like us.” She was right. Aryana had quite enjoyed her “torture” session with Zarathos.
Neri studied her. “Nice armor.”
Aryana touched Zarathos’s armor, covering her body. There would be no more hiding. “What was that?” she asked, motioning toward where Tigon had disappeared around the corner.
Neri climbed to her feet, and brushed off her torn and stained clothes, though her hands were shaking. “Tigon occasionally likes to taunt me with his plans for when he becomes arch king. His plans to attack other nations. Including the humans.”
That made sense. Tigon from Terra Monstrum probably had good reason to want to attack all three kingdoms. The vampires because they were encroaching on Terra Monstrum’s land, Kingdom Aeria because they were assholes trying to take over every other kingdom, and the humans because they were weak and easy pickings.
And yet, something nagged at Aryana. It hadn’t sounded as if Tigon had been taunting Neri. It had almost sounded as if Tigon was using the battle map to reassure her of something. And what of the potion bottle that had been clutched in Neri’s hand?
The guards came with their spears, ordering them to their feet. Neri refused to look at Aryana as they continued to their cells. A slightly fearful smell drifted off of her, and Aryana got the sense that she was agitated about something.
“Is everything all right?” Aryana asked.
“Sure. I was just slammed in the side of my head by my champion and we are going into the next trial where who knows what horrors await. I’m wonderful,” she snapped.
The reminder of the upcoming trial put Zarathos again at the forefront of Aryana’s mind.
Whatever Neri was hiding, it would have to wait until after the trial.
The guards tossed them into their dingy cells, and she immediately paced back and forth, wringing her hands.
Pohan and Jesir were there. However, her thoughts centered solely on Zarathos.
As if on cue, the mark on her leg became terribly cold. Her nails dug into her skin. He was in danger.
“You look and smell as if you’ve had a night,” Jesir said, watching her anxiously.
She realized she must look a sight to him and anyone looking at her. But Jesir didn’t look great either. More scars and wounds crisscrossed his body since the last occasion she’d seen him.
But before she answered, the large slab dropped, slamming into the earthy cell.
“No belladonna this round. Go out, and try to survive in the maze, if you can,” the guard said.
Aryana rushed up to the waiting area. She took a few slow breaths before rushing forward.
How quickly would they put Zarathos and the others into the arena?
Had they already? In the past, they’d started the champions just after the kalators, so she had to assume this would be the same.
She shoved the barred opening wide, racing out into the open.
Aryana held her breath. Immense stone walls that stretched in both directions rose above her, making her feel small.
The guard had called it a maze. A narrow gap in the wall was the only way into the labyrinth.
Was Zarathos somewhere inside there? She possessed no weapons.
What manner of lethal creatures might inhabit the twisting, dark passages?
But Aryana was a deadly creature as well.
The air was thick with the scent of dust and sweat, and the distant roars of the arena’s monstrous inhabitants echoed off the stone walls.
Members of the demon syndicates moved up and down the rows of spectators taking their bets.
She touched the upside down crown on her wrist, wondering how many of her experiences were going to be used to inflict pain on others. All so the syndicates could get rich.
“Welcome to the third round of the demon trials,” the announcer’s voice echoed throughout the arena. “In this round we will see how well our champions can use their minds to navigate the challenge placed before them. But be forewarned, deadly creatures do not wait for brilliance.”
She spotted Pohan, Neri, and Jesir coming toward her.
She’d have to protect Neri at the same time that she protected Zarathos, but at least the human wouldn’t be hard to find.
Pohan greeted her with a nod, his eyes narrowing with determination.
Guards lined the edge of the arena, no doubt ready to grant them a swift death if they didn’t enter.
Aryana couldn’t escape the impression of being trapped, but she had no choice now.
They had to navigate the maze if they wanted to survive, and she needed their help if she was to get to Zarathos quickly.
Pohan’s brows pulled together as he looked her over. Swiftly, he slipped her a piece of bread and she took it, popping it in her mouth.
The four of them faced the maze. Somehow, she knew Zarathos was somewhere inside that labyrinth.
She had to find him. Whatever horrors waited for them, it wouldn’t be easy.
As they moved into the twisting corridors, the walls seemed to close in, each turn more ominous than the last. The silence between them was laden with the weight of their unspoken fears, but there was no turning back.
Only onward, deeper into the heart of the maze.
Then the sound of a wild creature brought them to a halt.
A low, animalistic growl came from behind them.
Monsters were coming.
“Run!” Aryana hissed, and they raced forward, moving together around corners. Aryana slowed her speed to stay with Neri. She needed to reach Zarathos, but she also didn’t want to leave her behind. They sped around a corner and up a short incline.
With one wrong turn, they hit a dead end.
“Shit,” Jesir breathed, his eyes wide with fear. He held in his hands the spear Aryana had retrieved for him in the first trial. The champion he served must have felt confident without it and probably thought it would be entertaining to give the imp some fighting chance.
And then the creature came into view. A huge lion head was the first to greet them.
His back had a large goat’s head attached, and a hissing snake’s tail swayed behind it.
A chimera. It was a deadly, violent creature.
It prowled through the shadows, its massive lion’s head snarling with malevolent intent, a torn piece of cloth clenched tightly in its jaws.
The ragged scrap of fabric fluttered like a flag of warning.
Fabric from Aryana’s dress the night of the last banquet.
She trembled. They’d given it her scent.
“Why does it have your dress?” Neri asked.
“It has scented her. It will hunt her till she’s dead.” Jesir looked at Aryana with dread in his eyes.
And Aryana was weaponless. Completely vulnerable.
Suddenly Neri turned to her. “Sorry, friend. You had to know this was coming.” And she lashed out with the small knife Aryana had given her before the last trial.
Aryana staggered backward. But the harm was done.
A line of crimson red bloomed out along her collarbone, onto Zarathos’s too big armor.
Neri lunged, shoving Aryana down the slope toward the chimera’s gaping jaws.