Page 10 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

Then Finn goes quiet beside me.

I follow his gaze to the archway. More figures emerging from the fog. One, two, three, four, five.

The crowd leans forward, waiting. Then, nothing.

“That’s it?” someone shouts from the stands.

Our laughter dies.

I scan the survivors stumbling into the colosseum. All fucking nobles, not a single commoner among them, not even a guard. Fifty contenders went in this year, at least officially. But that number doesn’t count the prisoners Father sends in ahead, fodder and killers, all of them sent in with one purpose, take as many with them as they can before they go down.

Only six came out, and next year, Finn goes in as my guard, because of me. I glance at him. His jaw is tight, his eyes fixed on the archway.

I grab his arm. “Hey.” He looks at me. “We’re not dying in those stones forsaken woods.”

Finn exhales through his nose. “Jarek didn’t make it out.”

The name lands heavier than I expect. Jarek, whose laugh carried across the entire training yard, whose footwork Finn corrected so many times it became a joke between them, who was always at Finn’s shoulder like that was where he belonged.

I squeeze his arm, firm and grounding. He’s not dying in there. Finn isn’t just a guard, and neither is Grier. They’re my people, the ones I’d spill blood for without hesitation.

“You’re not dying in there,” I repeat. “You’re annoyingly hard to kill. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

That gets a small laugh out of him. It’s something.

The rest of the ceremony drags on with more speeches and more applause until my legs go stiff, and I’m ready for a drink.

Finally, Father dismisses the crowd to mingle, and the royal box floods with silk gowns and simpering smiles. It doesn’t take long for company to find us.

Three women approach, all with big eyes and low necklines, one in green, one in gold, and one in blue.

“Prince Ryewood,” the one in blue says, dipping into a curtsy that purposefully shows off her assets. “Quite the ceremony today.”

“Wasn’t it?” I give her an easy smile. “The housecat was my favorite part.”

She laughs like I’ve said something brilliant.

Finn leans in, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “You know they only do this because you’re a prince, right?”

“Jealous?” I elbow him, grinning.

“Please.” He grins.

He turns to the one in gold, flashes that effortless charm of his, and within moments, she’s forgotten I exist.

The look Finn throws me is insufferable, pure self-satisfaction. I flip him off behind their backs. That gets a laugh out of him. Then he’s back to the girl, leaning in like she’s the most interesting person in the room. She doesn’t stand a chance.

Finn and I can handle this part, but Hayes is a different story. He’s surrounded and suffering until I realize he’s not suffering at all. He’s staring at something across the box.

I follow his line of sight. Of course, Rosie.

She stands out, always has. Darker hair, skin that’s seen actual sunlight, those teal flecks in her green eyes like Finn’s. But it’s not just her features that stand out; it’s the warmth in them, the realness in a sea of performance.

Hayes is fucked when it comes to her, has been since the day she walked out of those woods.

“Rosie!” I call, waving her over.

Her bored expression shifts to genuine delight when she spots us.