AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Wouldn’t it be funny if I died right here? Before the competition even began? That would be horrible for Bloodworm’s reputation. But if I died, who would protect Gwen? This silly human with her silly shoes. Where were her boots? The practical ones she should be wearing, just like every other woman here.
Yet, if she’d not been wearing the splash of red, would I have recognized her in the sea of faces?
I arched my back and tilted my head as the purple mist expelled from my body. I’d not even realized I’d inhaled so much. There’d been too much silence, then too much noise. Too much pain.
A red orange danced in the air, seeming to brush against the purple. So strange. So oddly beautiful.
They joined together, fire and calm, molding into one undulating smoke.
And then they divided, spilling back into our bodies. Filling every space. I could feel the weight of it in my fingertips. In my hearts. In my brain. I could feel her.
What’s happening?
A soft thought that was not my own invaded my brain.
I fought to stay awake. Gwen slumped against me, falling prey to the pain of the bonding.
Stay awake. Keep her safe. Keep her safe.
But even I, a King, could not fight the exhaustion of what had just transpired.
* * *
I wasawoken by the rumbling of a transport ship. My body rested on a plush surface.
Blinking rapidly, I sat up too quickly and the world spun faster than the wooden rune-top my father carved when I was a boy. Each side told part of a story. And as the top would spin, the images would reflect on the walls thanks to minute openings in each carving and the tiniest seed of olde magick at the center. It was an innocent use of the dark ways, yet I remembered how it bothered my mother.
“We are all only a breath away from becoming that which haunts us,” she’d warn my father. He and my grandfather had learned many things from the war with The Incendiaries. Many things… and not all of them good.
I had forsworn any use of the dark powers, though my father had entrusted me with a tome that could lead me down that path.
God, my head hurts so badly.
Gwen was nearby. I could sense her. Hear her. Inside my own chest, I felt the steady rhythm of her small heart beating.
When my brain stopped rebelling, I opened my eyes again.
Glancing down my body, I found I was no longer wearing the gaudy armor from the bonding ceremony. I was now dressed similar to Gwen—a protective jumpsuit, the only difference being in size and the fact that a large cap flowed from my shoulders and down my back. I pulled it around to see the back, finding my family crest emblazoned on the back like advertising space for this flarking competition. It was dangerous, the billowing material, and not suited for battle. I’d remove it before entering the fray. Not only for the issues it presented, but because I refused to use my family’s name as some sort of bastardized battle flag.
My mind went back to Gwen, and I scanned the room, finding her easily.
There she was, resting beside me on the bed. We were in what must be the Captain’s chambers of this vessel. I doubted any of the other gladiators were afforded such comfort.
She’d been right… we were in the same storm, on vastly different vessels.
The transport ship lurched to one side, sending me reeling. The unsteady flight moved something else beside my body—a large case slipped from beneath the built-in bed, along with an emerald satchel embroidered with the crest of the House of Ramzen.
Dismor had sneaked some things on board.
I smiled, grateful for my loyal guard and friend, but then I frowned almost immediately after as I realized that bringing outside aid into the game was against the written rules. Though, my contract allowed for certain royal accommodations. If it came to a debate, I was sure I could double-talk Bloodworm into agreeing that a bag and a few supplies were not a breach.
Gwen stirred from the rocking of the ship, her plump lips frowning as her forehead crinkled in pain.
I feel worse than I did the day after Aggie’s twenty-first. We drank so much. That was the worst fucking hangover. She lifted a hand, rubbing her temple gently. It took me a moment, but I realized those were her thoughts, not mine.
“The bonding effects can be unpleasant at first,” I tried to speak quietly, keeping an even tone that would not startle her.
My efforts were fruitless.
