Before I could second-guess myself, I forced my body to still and focused on Ichi’s teachings. It took longer than I liked and a couple tries, but eventually I pulled at the live wire in my core, imagined gathering a bright ball of energy, and directed it at my hands and feet. Then I luscelered my limbs out of Cyrus’s restraints.
I whipped out two knives and stabbed Moira in the back of the knees. She couldn’t even scream as she fell to the ground. And just because every step I took jostled the agonizing wound in my gut, I repaid the favor.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” I rasped.
Before she could pull another dirty trick, I pressed my knife to her neck and waited for the announcer. Moira wasn’t getting up. She wasn’t tapping into her powers—not while I was pulling the air from her lungs.
I won.
Alexei, MJ, Ichi, and Oliver all smiled at me, each wearing a different shade of pride. But Ronen—his shadows softened just enough to reveal stunned wonder in his eyes. No one had ever looked at me like that, like they were genuinely moved by what I could do.
He may have doubted me before. Hell, I had doubted myself.
But now, after defeating an elite squad leader without using all my power, I did it. I was a warrior. More importantly, I had a real shotat rescuing Aspen, stealing Ronen’s feather, and beating Lilith at her own game.
And even though I would rank after this, I knew Ronen wasn’t about to change his mind and help us.
But maybe he’d give me Tsal-mawet instead.
“Lucille has w?—”
An arrow shot through the announcer’s neck.
Then there was movement in the shrieking, confused crowd.
A male with a gruesome soul wound on his freckled forehead parted the warriors with his bow and a notched arrow. He stepped into the challenge circle with Cyrus and Theon behind him.
“Ready for round two, Hell-whore?” Cyrus taunted.
Vines erupted from the ground and wrapped around me, holding me in place once again. The freckled male aimed and released his arrow. My powers raged beneath my skin, almost bridging the surface—when a wall of shadows blocked the arrow, ripped apart the vines, and shot into my nose, silencing my pain.
Ronen stepped into the circle. “This is your warning, Lou.”
Lou hesitated, lowering his bow an inch.
“The Hell-whore doesn’t deserve to be our leader!” Cyrus shouted, and Theon nodded.
Oh, Heavenly Shit.
That never registered. I wasn’t doing this to be their leader. Ohfuck.
“Lucille won. This challenge is over.”
“No.”
Iturned just in time to see Moira drop her hand. I must’ve lost my grip on my Infernus. The knife hit a solid wall of shadows, and then darkness bled through the arena, rendering everyone quiet.
“Ronen.” I raised my hand, searching for his body.
Shadows tenderly brushed my face in answer. Usually, they soothed me, but I could practically feel their rage this time. It was vicious and thick, chilling me to the bone.
Metal slid against sand before I heard a wet slice, then a thump. I swallowed, wishing I could see. A moment later, I heard another. Then another. And another. The last one sounded closer and ended in a gurgled choke.
Slowly, Ronen’s shadows pooled back into his hands, revealing five decapitated bodies and a torrent of blood seeping across the ground. They were all dead. Moira, Theon, Lou, Cyrus—every single one of them lay in a pool of their blood.
“Holy fuck,” Oliver whispered next to me.
“He did warn them,” I said weakly as Oliver helped me to my feet.
