Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
The restraint
nik
I heard the blood thirsty cry from the crowds before I saw them. Felt the rhythmic pounding of their boots on the wooden, tiered seating as I entered the underground ring. It smelt of sweat, old blood, and piss.
Rough hands forced me into the sand-covered pit, the iron grip releasing only once I’d stumbled forward.
The space rang with shouts, the sound pressing in from all sides.
Above, light cut down through a domed iron grate, the hatched metal separating me from the city of Oscuro.
The sea of bodies gathered overhead to watch, their silhouettes casting shadows onto the sand.
The light was brighter than the cell—cruel in its clarity—and my eyes ached as they adjusted.
I rolled my shoulders, fighting the stiffness locking my muscles. The Thorns had stopped the poison hours earlier, and strength had begun to seep back into my limbs. Hunger and exhaustion, however, weighed me down. Still, my wings were bound. Even if I found an opening, I wasn’t flying anywhere.
The chants for blood throbbed around me, but I shut them out as my gaze searched for her.
I found Blythe across the ring, seated on Snake’s lap in a garment that barely covered her pale frame.
Her wide blue eyes were already fixated on me. Her shoulders were rigid, posture tight—too still, like stone. My chest tightened hard enough to hurt. Not because she was on Snake's lap, but because I couldn't get to her.
She leaned forwards the barest fraction, a silent signal. She was still here. Still fighting.
It was all the anchor I needed.
Something hot and violent surged up my spine at the way Snake’s gloved hand rested on her thigh, but I forced it down and gave a single nod so she’d know I saw her. That I was still fighting too.
The air began to hum with heat and hunger. Thorns demanded the fights start. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. Snake’s gaze locked on me as his voice carried across the ring, rules announced more for the crowd than for the fighters. No weapons. No mercy. Just hands on combat.
His words blurred together, swallowed by the roar.
I didn't have time to think before the first man came at me from the shadows around the ring, fast and sloppy. I put him down with a single crack to his nose. It crunched with satisfaction as he dropped like a bag of bones.
The second one lasted longer but I put that Thorn down too.
It cost me a split lip and a ringing head—I didn’t feel the pain until I tasted blood.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, eyes locking on Snake.
His grin picked up and I couldn’t wait to rip it from his face—especially after seeing him lean forwards to drag his tongue up the side of Blythe's face.
She shuddered, but kept her posture straight, refusing to crumble under his touch. She was braver than I could ever be.
A Thorn charging at me from the left brought my attention back. After I snapped my elbow into his jaw, everything else became a blur of bodies, sand, and hands grabbing for me. I moved on instinct alone. Duck, strike, breathe, repeat.
Efficiency over fury. Survival over pride.
Didn’t mean I walked away untouched. A cracked knuckle. A bruised rib. Blood drying sticky on my forearms.
The crowds grew restless above and around me when I didn’t die quick enough. But I stayed on my feet because I had to. Because every time I risked a glance towards Blythe, her eyes were still on me, unwavering in her belief that we were going to get out of here.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed. Only the shifting shadows on the sand told me that I’d been fighting for a while.
My breath shortened, legs trembling under me, and sweat stung my eyes.
I tried to stop the shaking of my hands when I unclenched them but there was no use. I was operating purely on adrenaline.
The clamour from the crowds crested again. Impatient and feral.
Snake lifted one hand from his makeshift throne of darkened wood and the room went still, boots scraping as silence rippled outwards. Even the fighters I’d taken out stopped their moaning.
“Nikolas,” his voice carried easily across the space. “You’re disappointing them.”
I fixed my gaze on him, chest heaving as the room spun. Yet I kept my jaw clenched tight.
Snake ran a hand slowly up Blythe’s thigh and the heat in my veins sang. “They came for blood,” he continued on. “Yours.”
A few laughs broke free from the crowd, sharp and ugly.
He was baiting me. But I refused to bite.
I wiped more blood from my lips with the back of my hand. “Why don’t you fight me then? Or are you a coward?”
Murmurs tumbled from cracked lips and yellow teeth as I waited for the king's response. His smile grew darker, more offended with every passing second.
Finally, he spoke. “You mistake restraint for fear, Lightner,” his hand rose higher up Blythe's leg and I caught the way her body stiffened. “Let’s raise the stakes shall we?”
My stomach tightened.
“The fighter,” Snake announced loudly, pointing towards me, “who True Deaths him—”
The crowd exploded before he finished speaking. I barely heard the noise above the calamity, my eyes landing on Blythe, her brow pinched and colour draining from her beautiful face.
Snake held up his hand again and the crowd hushed. “And the reward for such entertainment”—he paused, long enough to make it hurt, then gripped Blythe’s hair and yanked it back—“gets her for the evening.”
Sound crashed back in all at once. Laughter, shouting, hunger. I swallowed down the rage as the ground tilted beneath my feet. My chest locked tight and I almost reached out a hand to steady myself.
I looked at her. She didn’t move, even as her hands clenched white in her lap, her eyes never leaving mine.
“I love you,” I mouthed to her.
She blinked then, tears spilling down her cheeks. She needed to know that, whatever happened next, she was loved beyond measure. I’d fight for her until my dying breath.
Snake watched us . . . savouring every moment. Then he leaned back and with a single flick of his hand, the gates groaned open.
The man who stepped through filled the space like a wall given legs. Broad shoulders. A thick neck. Scars mapped his arms and chest in pale, ugly lines. He rolled his shoulders once, loose and unhurried, like he was warming up for something he’d done a hundred times before.
He looked at me and smiled.
So I smiled back.
The crowd leaned in closer. I felt their body heat pressing in like a vice around me. Truth was, I had no idea how I was going to get out of this. I just had to keep going and hope that even in this darkness the light would shine brighter.
I didn’t look at Blythe. I couldn’t. It broke my heart too much.
The wall of a male moved first. Too fast for his size.
I barely got my guard up before his fist slammed into my ribs. The impact knocked the air clean out of me, a sharp, wet sound tearing from my chest as pain exploded through my side. I staggered, vision flashing white at the edges, sand biting into my heel as I fought to stay upright.
The Thorn circled me. Watching.
Waiting for me to recover just enough to make it interesting.
I forced a breath in. It burned. My ribs screamed in protest as I shifted my weight and circled. My wings tugged uselessly against their bindings, phantom reflexes screaming for an escape that wasn’t there.
He came again.
I ducked under the next swing, felt air rush past my ear, and drove my shoulder into his midsection. It was like hitting a stone pillar. He grunted but barely gave ground, wrapping a massive arm around my back, and lifted.
The world tilted and I braced for impact. He slammed me into the sand hard enough to rattle my teeth. Pain bloomed across my spine as my breath whooshed out of my lungs. Stars burst behind my eyes, and before I could roll away, he was on me, one knee dropping into my chest.
Bones cracked and I silently screamed through clenched teeth.
Get up.
Stay on your feet.
He took a confident stroll towards the edge of the ring, hands on hips like he’d already won.
I thought of the woman watching me. The cat back home I’d come to love. My family in Lucius. My friends. I had to get back to them. Every memory. Every laughter. Every brush of my fingers against Blythe’s hair gave me the strength to stand, no matter how broken my body was.
The Thorn growled when he noticed I was standing. Then he grinned, slow, and knowing. “Thought you’d stay down,” he said, rolling his shoulders again. His gaze flicked past me, towards her. “Would’ve made it quicker.”
I didn’t respond. Just watched him, and waited.
He tilted his head, studying me like he was trying to find the crack.
Then he found it.
“The king made it really interesting for us,” he said casually, like we were discussing the weather. “I’m gonna True Death you . . .” He dragged his tongue over his teeth. “And then I’m gonna enjoy her.”
The crowd roared.
My vision tunnelled.
“She’ll fight, I think,” he went on, eyes gleaming now. “But I like that. Makes it better. Can’t wait to taste her. Feel her—”
Rage detonated. Hot. Blinding. Immediate.
My fists clenched so tight my knuckles screamed, my body already shifting forward—
—and then it hit.
“. . . They baited you, and you took it.” River’s voice echoed through my mind, clear and sharp.
Followed by the kings. “It is not your enemy . . . and it is not your master.”
My breath came hard. Uneven. I flicked my gaze towards Snake, towards Blythe, towards my heart. I paused there, seeing her back straighten, her head held high. She was the perfect image of strength. And then it clicked.
I drew my eyes back to the Thorn. He was watching me. Waiting.
Waiting for me to lose it.
To give them a show.
To prove them right . . . to be a spectacle.
My jaw tightened. Not this time.
I let the rage sit where it burned—hot, coiled, ready—but I didn’t let it move me.
Instead, I smiled, and it wasn’t kind. “You talk a lot,” I said, voice rough, steady despite the fire clawing through me. “For someone who has the kind of face that makes souls grateful for the dark.”
His top lip curled.
I couldn’t stop my mouth then. “Have you ever considered standing further back, for everyone's sake?”
That’s all it took.
I shifted as he lunged again, reading the weight of him this time instead of reacting to it. His fist cut past my face close enough that I felt the wind of it, and I stepped inside his reach before he could recover.
My elbow drove up into his ribs.
Hard.
He grunted, surprise flashing across his face as I followed it with a sharp strike to his jaw. My knuckles split further on impact, pain flaring bright and hot, but his head snapped sideways and dark blood sprayed from his mouth.
The crowd roared.
He staggered back a step.
Just one.
I didn’t give him time to think. Surging forwards, I landed another blow to his cheek, then a brutal hook to his temple. Blood streamed freely now, cutting red lines down his scarred face, dripping onto the sand between us.
For the first time, doubt flickered in his eyes. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at the blood coating his fingers like he couldn’t quite believe it was his.
I met his gaze, chest heaving, hands shaking but steady enough. “Want some more?”
A crazed grin spread across his face. He laughed. Actually laughed. And then he ran straight towards me with a roar.
Blythe’s cry rang above the cacophony of noise. It was like a shelter in a raging storm. I held onto every syllable of my name that tumbled from her lips and threw all I had left in me to bring this Thorn down.
I planted my feet, feinted left and dropped low, driving my shoulder into his thigh this time. He stumbled, surprised, and I seized the opening, slamming my elbow into his temple with everything I had.
Once.
Twice.
He swayed.
The crowd’s roar fractured, confused.
He roared again as I swung with every ounce of strength, my knuckles smashing into his face. Again. Again. Again. Bone crunched under my fist and something in his nose gave out with a wet crack.
My vision tunneled, the edges darkening, pain screaming from every part of me as my body threatened to fold. He grabbed for me blindly, fingers brushing my shoulder, but I twisted free and put my full weight behind one last strike.
Dark, warm blood sprayed across my vision as my fist connected with his jaw. His eyes rolled back and his massive body toppled forwards, hitting the sand with a sound like a tree falling over.
The ring went silent.
For half a heartbeat, I was still standing. Then my legs gave out.
I dropped to my knees beside the unconscious Thorn, my hands sinking into the sand, blood dripping in thick, dark drops between my fingers. My chest wouldn’t rise properly anymore. Each breath was shallow, broken, agony ripping through my ribs.
Then the silence shattered.
Shouting erupted from the stands. Boots pounded. Metal shrieked as something gave way. I heard Snake’s voice distantly, sharp and furious, orders cutting through the chaos. I lifted my head, searching. Blythe was on her feet.
That was the last thing I saw.
The world tilted sharply to one side, sound collapsing into a dull roar as darkness rushed in. My hands slipped from the sand and my body followed, the ground rushing up to meet me.
And then there was nothing.