Chapter 53
Chapter
Fifty-Three
TATE
The closer we get to the creature, the stronger her influence tugs on my sanity, swamping and crowding me with memories until it becomes harder and harder to hold on to reality. But I fight my demons, keep them at bay, because one person in here is more important than anything else.
And she is currently walking back and forth in front of the Ophisyx, distracting her to give us a chance to end it. And for her, I’d do anything.
Ara has her eyes closed, just like the rest of us. But her posture betrays her seconds before she moves.
“Don't do it,” I whisper under my breath. “Stick to the plan, sunshine. Stick to the fucking plan.” But of course she doesn't.
She runs forward, throwing out her hands, releasing her magic at the creature, in the same moment as the paw hits her, throwing her through the air, where she bounces back from the wall of the arena, staying down while the beast goes wild between us, barring my way.
“Daeva, I need you to get me.”
“On it,” she says and dives, but she has to break off her advance when the Ophisyx lunges for her. And since Daeva heads the other way, I can't see Ara either.
I snap, the terror that had been paralyzing me before boils out of me.
Wind hisses, whipping up the surrounding sand, ripping at hair and clothes.
My friends stagger back, and the beast cowers, trying to protect its face with its paws.
As the gusts become stronger, my gift permeates the air just like the metallic, stinging scent of magic.
Raw power spills over, ready to flay the skin of the creature that stands between me and her, one tiny slice of sand at a time.
And then I feel it.
Ara taps into my power, and I open up even more for her.
Finally, she rises, tall and proud, and advances on the Ophisyx.
My gift dances around her, caressing her skin, playing in her hair, worshipping her, while it batters everything around us.
Her face turns toward me, and she opens her eyes to meet my gaze, holding it while she strides through the arena.
Her gift is nothing visible, but there’s a tension, a looming danger surrounding her, so vivid the air nearly crackles with it.
She is magnificent, powerful, unyielding. A queen in her own right.
“I’m sorry,” she mouths.
I shake my head. But I know she’ll do it anyway. An “I love you” dances over her lips, before her gaze whips to the creature in front of her.
Her hands come out, and she releases her gift in one brutal strike of raw magic. Showcasing that she is undoubtedly more than merely gifted, proving that she is cursed.
Her gift hits the Ophisyx, running through it, arching out, affecting everything that Iza created within the arena. Her creature and the ruins crumble, churning up a massive cloud of dust that shrouds us, obscuring our surroundings in a pale, sandy beige, hiding us from view.
The dust settles slowly, revealing shapes and moving figures, and there's silence, eerie, shocked silence. And no way to deny what Ara is.
“You scared me, sunshine,” I tell her when she stops next to me.
“I know,” she says.
“This will have consequences.” I turn to her and pull her closer.
“I know,” she answers. “But I’m done hiding.”
“I know,” I tell her and claim her lips because who knows, it might be the last time I get to do it.
The goddess claps above us, breaking our kiss and the silence.
“Impressive,” she says. “I underestimated you. But then, it’s not over yet.”
She claps again, and a gate opens. In walks a warrior from Kystis.
My body goes rigid. And Ara takes my hand, linking her fingers with mine.
“I can do it,” she murmurs.
“I know you can. That doesn't mean I have to like it.”
She grins up at me. “True.”
Our fingers are still linked, and once more, I open my gift for her.
“Take it. Take all of it.” And as if my gift reacts to my words alone, it seeps into her, while I pull her into my arms and kiss her one last time.
We’re one, the connection of our gifts as intimate as if our bodies were joined as well.
I get lost in her taste, the feeling of her lips moving against mine, her tongue teasing me, her teeth nipping.
The way she fits into my arms and how she melts into me when I pull her closer—I stow away all of it.
“Kill him,” I breathe against her lips. “And don't keep me waiting.”
She nods.
“We’ve gone through so much already,” she murmurs in my ear. “We can do this.”
She is right because there is no other fucking option than her coming out of this alive. There simply isn't.
We lean against the stones of the arena, an invisible wall separating us from the fighters. The arena is vibrating with the energy and anticipation of the coming fight. And the crowd salivates with a morbid fascination for blood.
The energy is so heightened that the structure is on the verge of bursting with it. And I don’t feel any different. Only the energy running through my blood is dark enough to swallow everything around me.
They start, and my breath catches in my throat. Her opponent fights anything but fair, using his ice magic, weight, and strength to drive her back. He tries to dominate her. But my girl is quick, cunning, and ruthless. She looks deadly beautiful, her movements fluid.
Ara counters his ice with her fire. The magic collides, and sparks of hot and cold sizzle between them.
There is no hesitation, no doubt in her strikes, and when her opponent moves arrogantly, carelessly, she uses the chance and draws first blood by opening a wound on his thigh. He curses and pulls back before she severs tendons.
Red paints the previously immaculate sand, and a vicious smile blooms on my face.
That's it, baby. Just like that.
A triumphant call from Solaris, circling above the arena, and his bursting into flames draws every eye. Ara laughs, and that’s the moment hesitation enters her opponent's movements. He underestimated her.
“She is fucking beautiful to watch,” Jared murmurs next to me. “I would say your training sessions paid off. She has improved immensely. Or maybe that is because you keep her satisfied and relaxed.”
He laughs at my glare. “What? The fluidity has to come from somewhere.”
The longer the fight lasts, the less secure Ara’s opponent seems. Time is on her side.
The man becomes increasingly vicious, using brutal force in both his magical and physical strikes.
He knows he’s losing and, in an act of desperation, drives her back with his onslaught, forcing her to shield herself with her magic gift.
Both of them are now covered with shallow cuts, and I flinch every time she receives a new one.
She retreats step by step until her back collides with the curving wall behind her. A volley of sharp ice splinters reaches her just when her shield falters, and she cries out in pain, erupting in flames a second later, melting the ice. The tiny wounds paint her skin red.
“Only superficial,” Jared murmurs next to me. “You will have her fixed up in no time. Don't worry, she can do this.”
But there is confusion on her face, and I don’t like the way she takes a tentative step toward her opponent. He brings up his sword, and she meets it, but barely.
She shakes her head before driving him back, slash for violent slash, to the center of the arena.
Repetitively, she blinks, shakes her head, and clenches her jaw as if she tries to clear her head. Then she falters, lowering her blade. I can’t breathe.
Why isn’t she fighting?
Her eyes are fixed on the man in front of her, who is talking and slowly advancing on her. But she still doesn’t move.
“Come on, baby, show him what you’re made of,” I whisper under my breath. Her shoulders are bowed, and she looks pained. What the fuck is he saying to her?
“Come on, sunshine.” My words are a plea. Nevertheless, the only movement on Ara’s side is the rise and fall of her chest.
Her opponent takes another step, one hand reaching for her face, and a snarl works its way up my throat. He slowly raises his sword.
“Move!” I shout even though I know she won’t be able to hear me. My stomach turns. This can’t be happening.
I rush forward, my hands pressing against the barrier between us. It burns, but I pound against it anyway.