“Well,” he says, voice thick with mockery, “I don’t think I’m ready to finish this challenge just yet. Not when the real fun is about to begin.”
My foot hits the stone platform’s edge. Nothing happens. I have to cross it completely, it seems.
So I push. Every move feels like tearing through invisible walls. Zyrel watches, cracking his knuckles in lazy anticipation.
And then, all at once, the wires give way and fall. The sudden freedom makes me stumble, lightheaded, unbound for the first time in what feels like an eternity.
Before I can find my footing, Zyrel’s fist slams into my stomach. Blinding pain erupts through my ribs as I crash to the ground.
I blink, dazed and disoriented, only slowly realizing I’ve slid away from my own throne.
Horror rises as I take in where I’ve landed—sprawled in the looming shadow of Zyrel’s god, with him standing over me, a manic grin splitting his face.
Itaste iron. The world narrows to the rhythm of his fists until he finally steps back. Instinct drags me to my feet. When I lift my gaze to his face, I see the euphoric glint in his eyes. It tells me he’s savoring this, that each blow is a private pleasure, and he has no intention of stopping.
But as long as I’m breathing, as long as his hand hasn’t touched the throne, there’s still a chance. I promise myself that and make my body the bait.
When he lunges, I curl and slide under his arm, my leg snapping out to sweep his ankle. He stumbles. I drive a shoulder into his ribs and my body screams in protest at the collision, every inch of me feels like one giant bruise. But I push myself to sprint the desperate stride toward my throne.
I don’t get far. Zyrel pivots fast, cutting off my path again.
He squares his stance, ready to strike, but I speak first because I know what will unhinge him: himself.
“You’re pathetic,” I snarl between ragged breaths. “You only feel powerful when someone’s on their knees. You can’t stand what you can’t possess, so you break it and pretend that makes you a man.”
As the words land, his face contorts, his mask cracking. There’s the boy underneath, the one who never grew past his own rejection.
I don’t stop.
“Couldn’t have the woman you wanted, could you?” My voicesharpens to a hiss as I spit out blood. “Did she choose a Crimson Tether from another just to get away from your advances?”
I chuckle when he snarls. “So you made it your life’s purpose to kill every woman who reminded you of her. You turned your failure into a crusade and called it a duty.”
He lunges again, purple with fury, spit flecking his lips. This time, he grabs me in a deadly hug, squeezing as if he hopes to crush the breath out of me, pressing his face so close I feel his hot breath on my cheek.
“You’re nothing but filth,” he hisses in my ear. “A cursed whore pretending to be special. You should’ve been dragged through the streets and lashed to death with the rest.”
I clamp my teeth on his cheek.
He’s strong—but he has soft places. I grind my teeth until warm blood fills my mouth.
One arm flies up to shove me away, desperate to pry me off like a feral cat clinging to his face.
I don’t hesitate. I drive my knee up hard. It connects with a sharp, sickening impact. He doubles over, his grip breaking entirely, setting me free.
That’s what I’ve been waiting for. Every instinct in me screams to look for Kaelzar, to make sure he’s still alive, still fighting, but I know I’m standing here only because of the moment he bought me.
I can’t let it be in vain.
I lurch forward, away from Zyrel and toward my throne.
He yanks my arm back, dragging me to face him and his fist crashes into my face before I can brace. The blow comes white-hot and brutal, it folds me like paper.
I’m hurled backward, hitting the ground hard at the edge of the stone platform, away from my throne. The inches I bled for slide away.
I lie there, stunned, feeling my heart’s slow, hollow thuds. I know I’m spent. My throne waits only a few paces away, but Zyrel stands between us, and the last of my strength has been stolen in the obscene arc of his fist.
My vision flickers, darkness pressing in, when a roar splits the air,so raw and furious it shakes the stones. Kaelzar. I can’t see him, but I know that sound. He’s alive. Still fighting.
