Chapter 40
Elira
The arena stank of rust and sweat and blood. The crowd was already screaming, thirsty for violence. My name rippled through the stands like a curse, like a prophecy.
Shadow, Shadow, Shadow…
I stood in the centre of the pit, wrists raw, chains still clinking from where they’d dragged me in. My shadows trembled beneath my skin, but I kept them leashed.
I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to. The gate creaked open behind me. My next opponent was being brought into the arena. I didn’t want to see.
Because I already knew who it would be.
Leo.
His boots hit the ground in slow, measured steps. He looked different—still Leo, but not. His curls were matted with sweat, his shirt torn at the collar, wrists bound in thick black cuffs. And around his throat—just beneath the bruises—a glint of steel.
A shock collar.
Fuck
He saw me. And the world cracked.
“Elle?” His voice was hoarse. Disbelieving. “What the fuck—”
“Don’t,” I said, breath catching. “Don’t come closer.”
He stopped. Shook his head. “What is this? What the fuck is this?”
“Fight!” someone screamed from the stands.
Coins clinked against the sand. The crowd roared—louder now. Hungry. Rabid.
Leo didn’t move.
“What are you doing here, Elle?” he rasped, his voice rough with disbelief. “Why did you leave?”
I felt wretched. Small. Unworthy.
“They took Finn,” I whispered. “My friend. They took him and—” My voice cracked. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
Hopelessness clung to every word.
Something shifted in his expression. A flicker of understanding.
“They blackmailed you…”
“I’m sorry,” I said, barely audible.
Leo’s jaw clenched. “Why didn’t you tell us?” He sounded wounded. “We could’ve—”
Then he stopped. A realization sparked behind his eyes.
“Thorne,” he said quietly. “It was him, wasn’t it…” he cursed.
In the box above us, Mother Ashford stood with a goblet in one hand and venom in her smile.
“Elira,” she said over the speaker, her voice oozing delight, “you’ve met your opponent.”
She turned to the crowds. “Do you all recognise him?”
“Fuck you bitch!” Leo yelled out.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Leo Knight. Lion shifter and Shade. Show him your love, will you?”
The crowd erupted. Not in applause—in hatred. Boos and jeers rose like a tide. Fruit, rocks, and gods knew what else began pelting the ring.
Leo raised an arm to shield himself, but his glare didn’t falter. He looked dangerous. Vicious.
And very, very ready to fight.
“A dramatic twist, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’m not fighting him,” I said, loud, clear. “Do you hear me? I won’t do it.”
Mother sighed. “You are just so sentimental, Elira. I warned you about this, didn’t I?”
Another gate opened. I turned—and time stopped.
Finn.
His hands were bound in front of him, face pale and bloodied, his body barely upright between two guards. He tried to stand tall when he saw me—but I could see the tremble in his legs.
“No,” I breathed. “No, please—”
It didn’t matter that he had hurt me. It didn’t matter that Finn had failed me. I would no sooner cut off my own arm than leave him to die.
And I hated myself for it.
I will always save him.
Mother descended from her glass box like a queen descending from a balcony to oversee a hanging. She stepped into the sand, velvet skirts skimming the blood-soaked ground.
In one hand—a slender blade.
She walked to Finn and placed it gently against his throat.
“If you won’t give the crowd what it wants,” she said sweetly, “then perhaps your friend can.”
“Don’t!” I shouted. “Don’t hurt him!”
“Then fight.” Her voice was soft. Cruel.
I turned back to Leo. “Please. You don’t have to do this—”
He tried to speak—but his body jerked.
A strangled sound left his lips as he doubled over, choking. The collar around his throat flared with flickering red light.
I ran to him, but the guards closed in.
“What the fuck did you do to him?” I screamed.
Mother’s voice was calm. “A simple enchantment. Nothing lethal. But quite persuasive.”
Leo coughed, lifting his head slowly. “It shocks me if I refuse,” he rasped, eyes burning. “They fitted it when they knocked me out.”
I looked from him to Finn—then up at the crowd, baying for blood.
“Choose,” Mother said. “The lion? Or the broken shifter.”
I stepped between them, shaking. “No.”
Another jolt hit Leo. He cried out, collapsing to his knees as spasms of pain rippled through him.
“Stop!” I screamed. “Please—stop!”
Mother raised an eyebrow. “Then do as you’re told.”
I met Leo’s eyes. His hands trembled as he pushed himself upright. Rage glinted in his eyes as he sneered at Mother.
“Elira,” he whispered. “It will be ok. If we have to fight... then let’s make it a show they’ll never forget.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. “I don’t want to fight you!”
“I know,” he said, standing fully now. “But we can do this. Together.”
Behind me, I heard Finn’s ragged breath.
Mother tilted the blade just a little deeper.
So I turned to the crowd. Tears streamed down my face, but I steeled myself.
Give them what they want. Or its over.
I raised my hands.
The shadows came like smoke through a broken window—slow at first, then faster, hungrier.
I would give them their fight.
But they had no idea what I was about to become.
He came at me fast, not with intent to kill—but with precision. A jab to my shoulder. A sweep to knock me down. I spun away, ducked, answered with a strike of shadow that glanced off his ribs.
It was all movement. All fire and instinct. But we weren’t trying to hurt. Not yet.
“Play it loud,” Leo murmured, ducking close. “Make it look real.”
“I hate this,” I whispered back.
He surged toward me again, roaring like a wild thing. All performance. All show. My blade met his with a crack of shadow against steel—sparks flying, shadows writhing. The crowd roared louder, drunk on bloodlust.
That’s when I saw him.
Vael.
At the edge of the arena, where the light broke and failed. Robes darker than midnight. Eyes gleaming red. Locked on me. Smiling like a god among insects.
I faltered.
Leo slammed into me, tackling hard. We hit the ground, his weight pinning me down—just as another jolt from his collar ripped through him.
He convulsed, biting down on a groan. “Focus,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Goddamn it, Elira—hit me!”
I twisted, breath ragged, and slammed a sharp kick into his side. He staggered. I didn’t stop. I punched him—once, twice—hard enough to draw blood. His lip split, and he spat crimson into the dirt.
He regained his footing and spun fast, driving a solid kick straight into my chest.
I hit the ground hard, stars bursting behind my eyes.
He lunged again.
I kicked out, catching him in the gut, scrambled to my feet, and twisted behind him. My arms wrapped around his neck as I leapt onto his back like a spider clinging to prey, dragging him down.
We hit the floor.
I rolled, straddled him, and punched him across the face with everything I had. His head snapped to the side.
I expected fury. Retaliation.
Instead, he grinned up at me—blood dripping from his brow.
I froze. My thighs clenched tighter against his sides. His grin deepened.
Gods, he was hard.
I felt his thick length pushing against my leather pants. I pushed hard against him.
“You,” he said, voice low and wild, “are fucking amazing.”
Then he yanked me down, kissed me full on the mouth—rough, desperate—and shoved me off with a violent kick.
His eyes blazed with heat and adrenaline.
He was enjoying this.
And—holy shit—so was I.
I could feel Vael’s gaze on the back of my neck like a brand, searing into my skin. Hot. Unrelenting.
His fury was a presence—palpable and rising.
It was like standing in the stillness before a storm, knowing the sky is about to split open and obliterate everything.
As I flipped off Leo once more, I dared a glance toward Vael.
He was still watching me—but he was speaking to someone beside him.
The man was massive. Bear-like. Scarred, broad-shouldered, and radiating menace. At Vael’s word, he moved—slipping something from his sleeve.
A blade.
The crowd was still in a frenzy, the noise thunderous—cheers, screams, the roar of chaos. But as Leo and I continued to circle each other, the tone shifted.
The screams changed.
What had been wild excitement turned raw. Frightened. Visceral.
Then came the blood.
It started all at once—soldiers in disguise drawing hidden shivs and blades, lunging into the crowd. One after another. Slashing. Stabbing. People fell, clutching wounds, screaming.
Panic rippled outward like fire.
“No!” I shouted, the word torn from my throat.
A wave of red surged through the chaos—Sentinels, cutting through the crowd with drawn blades. The screaming intensified.
From the opposite side, another tide rose—soldiers in royal blue, their armour catching the firelight.
The Shattered Crown.
Both forces were armed. Both were advancing.
And in the chaos, I caught flashes of silver-grey tunics weaving through the fray.
The Shades.
My heart dropped.
We were surrounded—and well and truly screwed.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
“There she is!” someone shouted.
Screams broke the air like snapped wires. Steel rang out. The crowd turned to panic, and the arena erupted.
The air snapped.
One scream turned into twenty. Then a hundred.
The crowd erupted, bodies crashing into each other like waves slamming against cliffs. Panic had a sound—a guttural, all-consuming roar—and it swallowed the Pit whole.
A loud cracking sound filled the air as the rails holding back the spectators from the pit began to shatter and crack
Waves of bodies tumbled into the pit as the seat railings gave way, cracking like thunder.
I barely managed to throw myself clear—my shoulder slammed into the curved stone wall, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.
Across the chaos, I saw Leo.
“Elle!” he shouted, his voice ragged—just before the panicking crowd surged between us, swallowing him whole.
I scrambled up, desperate, but I was already too late. A stampede had broken loose. Screaming bodies crashed into me from all sides—elbows, boots, panic. I was forced down, slammed to the ground.
My knees hit sand and bone.
I couldn’t move.
Crushed beneath the weight of the mob, I curled in on myself, hands locked over my head as chaos thundered above me.
And I screamed.
Nearby, a Sentinel and a Shattered Crown soldier collided—steel against steel, rage against rage. Another pair followed, then more.
In the chaos, war ignited like dry tinder—swift, brutal, and all-consuming.
A strong arm grabbed me, hauling me out of the carnage.
Bodies hit the sand around us—blood-slicked limbs and lifeless eyes swallowed by the chaos.
“Move!” Leo shouted in my ear.
I ran, shoulder-checking through the crush of bodies as the converging armies tore into each other, mindless with destruction.
“Elira!”
Finn’s voice cut through the noise. I looked up—Mother still had him, her arm locked around his throat, a knife pressed to his skin.
But for the first time… she looked afraid.
“I have to get to Finn!” I gasped.
“Okay!” Leo snapped—but before he could take a step, a hulking Shade in silver-grey raised a hand and hurled Leo backward like a ragdoll, his body crashing through a stack of crates with a sickening crack.
I barely had time to scream Leo’s name before another figure burst through the smoke and chaos—Slade.
Twin blades spun in his hands like silver lightning, carving a path through the melee. He reached Leo just as the Shade advanced again, cutting him down in one clean, merciless arc.
Leo groaned, pushing himself up, blood on his lips. Slade flicked his fingers and the collar around Leo’s neck snapped off and reformed itself to a blade that went flying.
“I’ve got him!” Slade shouted, planting his stance wide, blades raised. “Elira—go!”
I hesitated.
“GO!”
Across the room, fire exploded—bright and furious. Phoenix, his hands ablaze, was blasting a wave of flames toward a cluster of advancing Sentinels. One caught fire mid-step and collapsed screaming, but Phoenix didn’t stop. He was cutting his way to me, one burning strike at a time.
He cut his way through and stood before me, like he would guard me to the ends of the earth.
“I’ve got your back. Lets go get your friend.”
I turned toward Finn.
And I ran.