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Finally, after almost four hours of walking, we reached the top of the summit. Everything felt larger up here; taller trees stretched ever upwards toward an endless sky. White clouds passed through the vast, blue expanse. Luckily, there was no snow. The sun made some of the powder melt beneath our feet.
Firmly planting my hands on my hips, I smiled. Below us, the horizon stretched out towards different lands where boundaries between cities and islands melted away in favor of a cohesive landscape—endlessly beautiful, yet constantly changing. It was less icy down there than it was up here.
Then my eyes landed on the freezing sea. Something twisted inside of me. I hated the ocean. But the reason was buried deep, slipping away as soon as it was within my grasp.
The sound of cracking ice echoed in the air, and Antonio cried out. I whipped around, and felt my heart leap into my throat as I watched Antonio disappear down the mountain.
“No!” I screamed, instinctively rushing forward and grabbing his arm. I threw myself over a solid-looking rock, praying it would keep me from sliding off as well. A painful jolt went through my shoulder. Small granules dug into my knees and stomach. All of my sore muscles screamed at once, and an agonizing tearing spread through my arms.
Leather slipped and squished against leather. My grip wasn’t tight enough, he was still falling. He dangled over the ten meter drop to the next stretch of solid ground. I was so afraid.
“Hold on,” I begged, while fighting against gravity. His hand was slipping from his gloves.
He was an Élite. If he died, it might actually be a good thing. The world would lose another entitled monster.
I hesitated while his grip continued to weaken.
That nagging softness inside of me spoke up. Killing him wouldn’t change the reality of the world. It was messed up long before Antonio, and would be long after he was gone. Besides, he could’ve outed me when my audition went live, but he took me into his house.
Like it or not, I owed him.
His hand slid out of mine completely. I released the empty glove to the jagged side of the mountain below. I screamed, but with one heart-stopping movement, he reached up with his other hand and latched onto my wrist.
“Shit,” Antonio shouted when his gaze shot down to watch his glove land on a sharp rock. When he looked back up, I saw pure terror.
I felt the moisture beneath me creating a slick surface for my knees. With a burst of strength that followed my adrenaline rush, I held on to him. “It’s going to be okay,” I yelled.
I threw my other arm around him and yanked with all of my strength until he rolled on top of me.
Once again, we were way too close. But this time felt entirely different from the last.
He stayed here. Our arms wrapped around each other, chests heaving. For a moment, I savored the closeness. But this wasn’t what I felt when I laid with Magda. Heat spread in my lower belly, and the smell of his sweat became intoxicating.
As if sensing the strong reaction I was having toward him, he rolled over and stood up. Just as quickly as the moment had come, it vanished. Each of his movements were labored, but I couldn’t do more than watch while I laid in the snow, drenched in sweat, wondering what was happening in my chest.
With one swift movement, he cut his hand, exhaled deeply, and turned his face up toward the sun. There was no gold shimmer, no billowing light.
I stared, transfixed by the bright red of his blood, and he caught me. There was something about the moment that felt deeply intimate, despite the space between us. The air smelled sweeter and the bland white of the landscape turned into something exquisitely complex.
“Thank you,” he mumbled as he looked away from me, and the magical moment broke. It was strange—he seemed almost embarrassed by what had happened; like he was ashamed of needing my help. “I should’ve been more careful.”
The strange thing was, now that I had seen him so afraid—so vulnerable—it was hard to be mad at him. Impossible to make fun of him.
“No problem,” I replied.
The reality of how lethal these tournaments were cemented in my brain. The fear slowly grew larger, like a looming beast waiting to devour me whole. It wasn’t just the other competitors I would face; it was wolves. The snow. The rugged terrain.
How would I survive this for a whole week by myself?
Chapter29
I Wasn’t Born Like This
It was nighttime again, and Antonio and I were sitting in front of a fire, eating a squirrel. The world had shifted—and not because he had suggested making a fire at night. I was more convinced than ever of the horrible nature of the commonwealth in which I lived, but I saw nuance when I looked at Antonio’s face.
After a long silence, Antonio spoke first. “The effects of the pills will wear off soon because of your Blood Magic. I consulted a doctor before you got to La Rosa de Oro.”
It surprised me to know that he had already spoken to a doctor.
