“You evil fucking bastard,” I hissed as the crowds murmuring skated over our heads. “I’ll carve that pompous little smirk right off your face.”
“Me? Evil?” he seemed honestly affronted. “You’re related to the most morally bankrupt male in the dynasty. In allthreedynasties.”
“My uncle might have his secrets,”—I swept my hand across the pit—“but this? This is twisted.Inhumane.”
“Why do you think theybuiltthis place five hundred years ago?” He chuckled, looking at me like I was an idiot. “The Fossa exists at Giovanni DiRavello’s pleasure, a dumping ground for every miscreant, rapist, murderer, and political enemy of the three dynasties. Your uncle and I have a longstanding partnership, existing long before you and your weakling brother were spurted out of your father’s cock.” He whipped a knife out of his thigh holster, pressed the tip beneath my chin, and forced my head up until our gazes locked.
“And you, little princess, are about to learn just how much restraint I’ve shown up until now.”
My last opponent had been big, yes, but he’d operated on rage and brute strength. This… this fight would be different. This was a fight I doubted I could win.
“You have no idea of the things your uncle has done, no idea at all.” The Overseer bared bloodstained teeth at me. “He’s capable of corruption far beyond fighting pits and council chambers. No, little princess, if you knew what your uncle intended to do to your kind, you would hide somewhere he would never find you.”
Twenty-seven more minutes. I could do this. Keep him talking.
I was halfway through my pep talk when the Overseer tipped his head, staring up into the stands. “Actually, I have a far better idea.” He motioned two of his guards forward. “Bring the Vendetarri down. Give him the draught. Put a sword in his hand.”
A mere twenty minutes remained when they shoved Nico out onto the sand, a curved blade in one hand, a blank look in his eyes, and a cruel smile on his face.
“The draught does two things,” the Overseer purred, running a possessive hand over my ass before he shoved me forward.
“Takes away memories and gives the fighter a boost of aggression. Not only will he not recognize you, but every piece of him will want you dead. Good luck, little bird. Perhaps there will be something left of you for me to enjoy… but somehow, I doubt it.”
22
DANTE
Motherfucker.
Emberline stood in the middle of the ring, her braid undone, her sweat-lined face turned toward the platform as if the sight of me was somehow her tether, the Overseer’s shadow looming over her like a curse. That thin shirt clung to her body, showing every rib, every vertebra.
She hadn’t been feeding enough; that much was clear.
Her shoulders were squared, but I could tell she was afraid.
Yet she was still standing, straight as a queen.
The Overseer’s lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear over the murmurs of the crowd. Couldn’t hear the wicked words coming out of his mouth, only that Ember went paler and paler, her hands trembling where she kept them clasped into fists at her sides.
Then the bastard touched her. Touched my wife, and my vision went white.
I growled, straining against the chains, guards cursing, iron clanking on the wooden platform. He was planning on fighting her. He’d stripped off his armor—no plated chest, no bracers—just a brutalized torso and dark trousers. His personal guards had disappeared.
For weapons?
Or to bring up another one of the foul creatures they kept in the lower levels of this place?
Emberline would never beat him, never…
My thoughts were stuck in an endless loop of panic when the bastard turned his head, made eye contact, and smiled.
The kind of smile that froze my blood in my veins.
He was going to kill her. Hurt her. Make me watch. Breathing hard, I strained against the guards until their boots slid across the platform. Chains rattled, then went taut. The males holding me cursed.
“She came for you,” one of them grunted. “Came to save a worthless cause, and now all three of them will die here. Your wife, the soldier,andyour brother. I suppose your sire will have to look for another heir.”
“You’re already dead, you just don’t know it yet,” I muttered, imagining the fucker bleeding out as I finally located Gabriel in the crowd.
