Killian huffed, his head shaking. “The worst foes are those who have no side but their own.”
Sonya let out a peal of laughter.
“That’s rich coming from you.” She leveled her attention on Killian. “The one who murdered the rightful successor to get where he is. The one who came from nothing to become leader of the fae. I know who you are, Killian, and what kind of low-grade thieves you arise from.”
Killian’s chest expanded, the lock on his jaw tightening.
It was all beginning to make sense, though everything about it scared the hell out of me. Istvan and Leon were working together, putting Sonya, Leon’s fae lover, in Killian’s place. It gave them all the power with none of the fight from the fae in Budapest, while they continued to advance and strengthen their army.
It was why I didn’t recognize so many soldiers in here. They were Leon’s men. We all thought their egos were too big, and maybe they might clash down the road, but they decided to work together for this. And with Olena, they had Ukraine.
We were fucked.
“I should have seen this coming. From both of you.” Lukas curled his hands into balls, his glare darting from his mother to Iain. “Can’t stop wanting Mommy’s approval, can you, Iain? You’re so fucking pathetic,” he scoffed.
“Look around, little brother, at who’s the one up here and who’s the one about to die?” Iain snapped back.
My head jerked between them, shock widening my eyes. “Brother?”
“Half.” Lukas scoffed, his head shaking. “Way before she met my father, before she used my dad, crushed his heart, and walked out on us when I was a child.” Sonya flicked her eyes with annoyance, as if the topic of Lukas’s father bored her. She seemed little phased at having one of her sons in the pit about to fight for his life. “She was whoring herself to a married noble fae, got pregnant with this bastard.” Lukas motioned to Iain. Now I noticed they had the same coloring and blond hair.
Every piece had been meticulously planned and perfectly executed—who Iain was to Sonya and how they were moving her in to take over Killian’s role.
Game. Set. Match.
I had to hand it to Istvan. He played this out faultlessly.
My gaze slid toward the general but paused on Caden. You could see nothing in Caden’s expression. At one time, I could read him like a book, now I saw nothing but a wall. How did he feel about Istvan marrying his fiancée? What about his mother being missing? I know Caden loved her dearly, but could Istvan’s power over his son sway that?
My gaze bounced back to Istvan, his focus on me, as if he were watching for every revelation to unfold on my face. Our eyes locked, his superiority inching his frame taller, his eyes brighter.
“My friends, I know you came to see some entertainment.” He spoke to Leon and Sonya but stared at me. “Let me not keep it from you any longer.”
The gate squealed behind me, the sound of a heavy object hitting the dirt, spinning me around.
At Boyd’s feet, a huge, bloody, dirty mass lay on the ground. It took nine of them to carry the beast in. Boyd winked at me before they all retreated behind the gate.
“Warwick!” I screamed, my legs already running. My knees scraped the ground as I fell next to him, rolling him onto his back. “Warwick?” I brushed the knotted hair from his face, my hands on either side of his head. A sob stuck in my throat, seeing how much worse he was in the light. His face was so puffy from the trauma I could hardly recognize him. “Farkas...” I leaned closer, trying to put as much energy as I could into him, taking on a heavy dose of his pain, attempting to heal him.
His lids parted, letting me see the strip of aqua in his eyes. I didn’t realize until he was here how much I missed him, how off I felt without him. We balanced each other, keeping the other from falling over either side.
“Princess...” he croaked, his voice barely making it out. His hand covered mine, taking several beats to gather the energy to talk again. “I think you owe me a lot of blowjobs for that.”
I coughed up a mix of laughter and relief, and a smile prodded my lips, I didn’t think myself capable of, given the circumstances. “Deal.”
My mouth covered his, claiming the Legend with every ounce of my soul. A low, pained grunt huffed from him as I wrapped my tongue around his, sucking and licking, giving him what he needed. Our connection was better than any healing remedy out there. His starvation switched quickly, gorging on my power, slinking through my soul, forcing a moan out of my lips. I could feel him everywhere. Taking without apology and demanding more. A growl crawled up his chest, his fingers threading through my hair, grabbing the back of my head, yanking me closer, deepening the kiss into crude desire.
The man had the power to make me forget everything and everyone around me, crumble my walls, and seize my soul and make me beg for more.
“Kovacs...” I could feel his lust, his need for me sliding over my skin, through my pussy.
Clank. The arena filled with the sounds of hydraulics, breaking me away from Warwick. A dozen massive metal cages rose from the ground we were standing on. Trapdoors strategically placed around the pit were nearly undetectable to the eye.
“What the hell?” I muttered, climbing to my feet.
Instantly roars, snarls, and howls echoed from inside the barred cages, animals frantically pacing back and forth.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Istvan had taken another note from the Roman games.
Dozens of wild animals filled the cages, bursting with rage and fear, ready to kill.
“They haven’t been fed in a while.” Istvan grabbed two drinks from a table set out for him and his party. “This should be exciting. Anyone want to take bets?”
Olena giggled with delight as Istvan handed her a glass of Pálinka. Caden still didn’t move, watching every move between his father, new stepmother, and us. For one second, his gaze found mine like he needed me. A flare of the connection burrowed into our DNA, an instinct to seek each other out. For one second, I could feel my old friend there.
A roar from a lion snapped my attention back to the cages. Multiple tigers, boars, lions, and bears occupied the pens.
Istvan realized we wouldn’t battle each other and changed the battlefield to one we couldn’t protest by bringing in an opponent we had no choice but to fight.
The animals didn’t need to strip away the layers and find their primal instincts to survive. We did.
Kill or be killed.
The crowd of soldiers cheered as the metal doors unlocked with a clank, freeing the hungry, wild beasts.
My spine went ramrod straight, fear flushing through me, oxygen barely skimming my lungs. Warwick struggled to his feet next to me, stronger than he had been when he first came in, but still frail. We both observed the dozens of predators prowling out of their cages.
We were wounded, drained, and defenseless. Easy prey.
My attention went to my friends, all of them instinctively clumping together. Safety in numbers. It was true in some cases, building a wall of defense together, but there were times it made you more vulnerable, easy for them to circle and attack. Istvan once demonstrated this to Caden and me through a game of billiards. Grouped together, you could hit a lot at once, but once they were divided, you had to go after each singularly. Right now, the beasts had their kills all in one lump.
Warwick rumbled next to me, and without a word or look, I could sense he understood the same thing. We were the only two still alive who had fought in the Games, who understood the strategy of survival.
The art of war.
“Split up in pairs,” I bellowed, my arms waving. “Find anything you can to use as a weapon or shield.”
No one hesitated at my order. They accepted my strategy, darting in different directions, already confusing the animals, who cranked their heads in different ways, trying to pick out the weakest link.
I assessed everything in the stadium which could be used as a weapon. Roars thundered the massive room, echoing the heartbeat thumping painfully against my ribs. The tigers reacted first, swiping their claws at the closest victims.
“There.” Warwick huffed through his swollen mouth, pointing, his legs already moving for a torch on the outside of a gate. It was something we had once used to fight against each other in Halálház Games.
In Věrhăza, we stood together.
“Get up on a cage,” he yelled back at me, yanking the torch from its holder.
Right as I turned, my brain registered something leaping for me, a large orange and black mass, before the weight crashed into me, the claws sinking into my skin. The tiger and I hit the ground, the weight crushing me.
People always assume lions were stronger, when in actuality tigers were. With their condensed muscle mass and agility, they were a far more aggressive and faster breed.