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The Day Before…
The sun was an angry ember, sinking beyond the horizon as I meticulously packed my bags for the journey to Cinturón de Fuego. Strings of crimson light bled through the window, casting a scarlet glow on every piece of clothing, every weapon, and every memory that found its way into my bag. I took a deep breath, my chest tightening at the thought of seeing Carmen again.
As an ex-Champion of the Blood Tournaments, I knew what awaited her at the Cinturón de Fuego, and my heart ached with pride and trepidation.
She'd only been with me for four months, yet the small stretches apart from her felt like an eternity. She was good, and she made this home feel better. When she came to my room five nights ago, I couldn't believe she had chosen me. She left a mess in my heart and my office, but I would pay her a respectable fee for making many messes around my life.
I needed her back like I needed air.
"Señor," Javier said, startling me from my thoughts. "The car is ready."
"Thank you," I murmured, shouldering my bag and following him out of the room. As we made our way to the transport that would take us to Cinturón de Fuego, I couldn't help but think about Carmen's journey so far. She had proven herself time and time again, defying the odds as an orphan who was forced to pretend to be an Élite after it was discovered she had Blood Magic that turned her gold.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm and hazy glow across the trailers that served as our temporary abode. The scent of a feast permeated the air, and I felt my stomach rumble with anticipation. We sat down to eat—the Canciller, the camera crews, Key Bearers, and other mentors—sharing stories and laughter over plates piled high with roasted meats, fresh vegetables, and steaming loaves of bread.
"Antonio," the Canciller said, raising his glass, "to the success of the Blood Tournament and Carmen's victory." Our eyes met, and I could see the weight of responsibility resting heavily on his shoulders. For a moment, I caught a glimpse of the man he once was before his daughter Beleza's death changed him forever.
I lifted my glass, my heart swelling with determination. “To our people." I only saw Carmen's face.
As the night wore on, we retired to our respective trailers, and a mix of exhaustion and anticipation settled over me like a heavy blanket. My thoughts kept drifting back to Carmen. It was like I could feel how close we were to each other. Did she miss me the way I missed her? Was she thinking about me, even just for a fleeting moment?
I finally drifted to sleep, dreams filled with images of Carmen standing tall and golden—triumphant in the face of all obstacles. But the dream quickly turned into a nightmare as the ground beneath her cracked, swallowing her whole as she reached for me.
* * *
"Stop panicking!"someone roared outside.
I jolted awake, cold sweat trickling down my skin, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Was it just a dream? No. The ground convulsed and screams pierced through the early morning cold. Heart pounding, I scrambled out of bed and threw open the door of my trailer.
"What the hell is going on?" I demanded, my mind racing as adrenaline surged through my veins. The ground shook harder than anything I had ever experienced. Desperate to uncover the source of this chaos, I fought against the trembling earth, my thoughts consumed by fear for Carmen's safety.
One of the Artistas carrying a camera stopped.
"El volcán," she spat out before hurrying away.
My heart was pounding as I looked up, only to catch sight of a massive plume extending to the sky.
A deep, primal fear gripped me; Carmen was near the volcano. I hadn't felt this afraid since the day of the accident with my father and Beleza. Even if we weren’t close, losing two people so close to me had been awful.
Especially because of the guilt.
This Blood Tournament had turned deadly, and the girl I loved was in mortal danger.
"Where is the Canciller?" I barked at a passing camera operator, hoping he would have answers.
"Last I saw him, he was heading towards the command center!" the man shouted back.
I sprinted in that direction, each step feeling like an eternity.
"Señor Castillas," someone else called. I turned around to find a Médica assigned to the Key Bearers. "There's been a problem with Renata's Key Bearer."
My skin went cold, and I followed her first. Lilliana, Carmen's Key Bearer, was lying on a stretcher. Her skin was burned horribly, and her eyes were closed.
"How did she get like this?" I demanded.
The Médica shook her head. "The stone,”—she pointed at a stone on the ground in front of the bed—“glowed brightly, and she couldn't handle it."
I raked a hand through my hair. "So what about Renata?" I demanded.
