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I didn’t respond; instead, I gritted my teeth and redoubled my efforts, determined to show him I wasn’t that frightened little boy any longer. Our swords clashed together in a flurry of sparks until it seemed like we were both about to collapse from exhaustion and I cursed myself for forgetting my bronze. I was tired, and he knew it.
“Poor Theron, never has what it takes. Just like father.” He attacked, driving me back as he swung for my throat.
My gaze shifted away from Rhazien and towards the balcony, where the white-haired courtesan was watching us intently. Somehow, in that moment of distraction, I found a spark of renewed energy and determination that pushed me forward. If I wanted her, then I had to win this fight. I didn’t know why I was so desperate to claim her. All I knew was that she wasmine.
I held my sword aloft, sunlight glinting off the pommel as I advanced toward Rhazien. He shouted something at me I couldn’t understand, his words lost in the tumult of the cheering crowd, but I had no care for what he said—my only thought was to win this battle and claim her. I ducked and twisted out of the way as Rhazien lunged for me, my movements so swift it felt like I was flying. A cutting blow from my blade slammed against Rhazien’s back, forcing him to one knee. The crowd roared thunderously as our blades clashed, their cheers and jeers pushing me onward as I fought. I sprang at him, my motions so fast it seemed like I had been given wings like a son of Kearis as I moved around him.
I landed a solid blow against Rhazien’s shoulder that sent him sprawling back onto the ground. The crowd roared as our swords collided, reverberating in my ears as I advanced, determined to not let Rhazien best me this time. Never again.
Rhazien scrambled to his feet, his face a mask of rage as he lunged at me with one last desperate attack. I parried his blade with mine, holding it away from my body as I pushed him back. He stumbled backward and fell to the ground, his weapon getting lost in the sand as I leaped forward and pressed the blade against his neck. His eyes widened in surprise before hardening as I pushed the tip of my sword into his pulse.
“Go on, brother. Finish this.” He hissed, waiting for me to prove my strength. That I was as much a Carxidor as him.
I glared at him, clenching my teeth in silence as a swirl of raging emotions swelled within me. I wanted to do it. To rid myself of the man that had tormented me all my life. I glanced up to where Varzorn watched, his expression impassive as he motioned for me to show mercy.
I stepped back, and the crowd roared. Whether or not in support of my decision, I didn’t know. The populace hated Rhazien, but they disliked me as well. My brother scowled, his face an ugly puce color as the announcer declared me the winner, but I barely heard it. My attention locked on the white-haired concubine once more and I stalked forward, intent on claiming what was mine.
Chapter 3
Kael
Istaredindisbeliefas the Marshal strode across the blood-spattered sand, the last rays of sunset painting his pale skin gold.The bastard. The Beast had been about to win and my mission salvaged, but he’d ruined it. Just like he’d destroyed everything else in my life.
The other nobles who’d fought loped after him like a pack of wolves, trying to match his long strides. He didn’t seem to notice them, his gaze intent on one thing.
Me.
Had he recognized me? It had been years since he’d seen me, Teodosija only sending me on missions when she knew I wouldn’t face him, but he might remember. Ydonja knows I thought about our last meeting every day. I straightened my back, uncomfortable with how my new breasts strained the fabric—I looked like one of those water-fat courtesans that I’d once derided—preparing for violence. If he attacked, I’d steal his sword. I’d done it once before, I could do it again.
He surged onto the platform, dominating the space, and drawing all eyes to him. His dark hair billowed behind him and he wore the bone and leather armor favored by the Empire’s military elite, supposedly made from the bones of our fallen gods. Black kohl was smeared around his eyes to protect them from the sun’s glare, just like the desert dwellers painted theirs. My stomach churned with hatred as our eyes met for a split second before I forced mine to the ground beneath my feet. I took a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the need to kill him for what he’d done.
Aella whimpered next to me, her face pale with dread at being so close to the Marshal. We all knew who the slave catcher was.
“It’ll be alright,” I whispered. “I’ll find you. I swear.”
He stepped forward and Carita gave him a practiced smile, gesturing for him to come closer and inspect her wares like a vendor at the market.
“Prince Theron, congratulations on your victory.”
A voice boomed through the arena, declaring him the winner once again, and the crowd erupted, a mixture of cheering and jeers as the rest of the nobility was announced.
“Carita,” he said, nodding to her and finally tearing his gaze away from me. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, not wanting him to notice me again.
“As the victor of the games, you have the first choice of our flowers.”
Gross. Why not just call us sex slaves and be done with it?
The nobles had gathered around Carita and the concubines, eagerly eyeing us, their voices low as they made crude comments about our bodies.
“Look at the tits on that one,” an Elf snickered, pointing to me.
“I want a Kyrie Remnant. They squawk when they come,” another said, garnering a big laugh from the others.
My stomach twisted with disgust. They treated us like animals. I’d forgotten what it felt like after living in the desert for the last five years. Teodosija had warned me that the Marshal was off limits, but I hadn’t realized how hard it would be to ignore the women beside me as they were mistreated. Part of me had a fool’s hope that I could kill the Beast before any of them were hurt, bringing them with me back into our hideout. But there was no way I would be able to save all of them now and the realization hollowed my chest.
Aella trembled next to me, her eyes wide and filled with tears that refused to fall. I interwove my fingers with hers and she gripped my hand tight, her knuckles turning white. I couldn’t even try to comfort her. Anything I said would be a lie.
I edged in front of her as the nobles jostled each other, leering at us. I didn’t want them to see her, as useless as the gesture was.
