Page 109 of The Crimson Walls Of Algorath

When at last Emillie and Alek moved on from Madan, speaking under their breath about whatever had transpired between them, Loren set down his wine and stepped forward. The newlyweds halted, and Alek held out his hand in greeting. Loren accepted it, clasping his forearm firmly in a show of amnesty.

“Congratulations, Lord Governor,” Loren said without so much as looking at Emillie. She was hiding something about Ariadne’s whereabouts, and until she came clean, she did not deserve his attention. “You have long since desired a union with the Harlows.”

Of course, Alek had vied for Ariadne’s hand before the younger sister. Either would do, though, to win favor with the Princeps. Loren’s own determination for Ariadne’s hand no longer had anything to do with the power she could give him and everything to do with reclaiming what was rightfully his. That their union would have the Lords of Valenul favoring him again remained an added benefit.

“We have always been close friends,” Alek said, his smooth tone laced with a sharp edge. “Such a union between our families always felt predestined.”

Ice curled in Loren’s gut. He strained against the downturn of his mouth in a weak attempt to remain pleasant. “Quite right you are. Careful, Lord Governor, for these sisters are quick to change their minds and forego their promises. Do not leave her alone with any of the staff, or she might wander away same as her sister.”

Amusement flickered across Emillie’s face before she said, “We prefer partners, not tyrants, no matter their bloodline.”

Alek’s lips curled at the corners. “Now, now. The General is a humble man who looks out for the well-being of all of Valenul. My apologies. She has had quite a bit of wine tonight.”

From Loren’s observations, he had yet to see her pick up a single glass. Nonetheless, he inclined his head and said, “No apologies necessary. Please continue your rounds and have a wonderful evening.”

“We are grateful for your attendance,” Alek said, inclining his own head in response. “Enjoy yourself as well.”

With that, the two continued their turn about the conservatory. Loren watched them go, Emillie’s words replaying in his mind again and again.

Not tyrants…

Oh, he would show her exactly how tyrannical he could be.

Chapter 26

Azriel didn’t know how he arrived at the Pits. The days between waking up in Melia’s chateau and stepping into the loud, cavernous space were a blur. Whether it was from the bond tearing him apart for what he’d done or the drugs the Desmo had put into him, he wasn’t sure. Part of him didn’t want to know.

What he could recall were brief glimpses of day-to-day life in the training grounds. He remembered the heat of the sun burning his skin as he lay in the sand, unable to make his limbs move. A blink of time showed him a high fae’s face—a face he recognized but couldn’t recall the name for—close to his as they dragged him into the only sliver of shade available to the prisoners. Another flash of memory told him that he’d ingested something he shouldn’t have and had been forced to curl up on himself as he emptied his guts into the sand.

“Eat mine,” someone had said to him, trying to force food into his mouth that hadn’t been in his own bowl. He’d barely choked it down before the memory went dark.

“She’s killing him,” said a man’s voice he didn’t recognize. No images were attached to the memory, only darkness. Had his eyes been closed? “It’s in his food somehow.”

“Do you think it’s poison?” Raoul had asked.

A long pause, then, “More of her drugs, maybe.”

“The Pits are tomorrow.” Raoul again. “He won’t make it out.”

“We need him alive,” the unknown person said. “We’ll get him clean food, and maybe he’ll be able to focus.”

Perhaps that was why he could stand without swaying along the walls of the Pits. He could see and comprehend the noise around him for the first time in…gods…he didn’t know how long. It was like waking up from a dream. A nightmare. His mind scrambled to keep up, to sort out what had been real and not real. Had those conversations even happened?

Still, his body shook uncontrollably. Cold sweat poured down his spine, and a sick, empty part of him yearned for the oblivious release he’d experienced since the chateau. At least in that state, he couldn’t think of what he’d done. That he’d betrayed her.

Beside him stood Sasja. He blinked at her for a long moment before registering the firm grip she held on his wrist. She stared straight ahead as she said in their shared language, “Do you know where you are?”

It took him a long moment to find his heavy tongue before saying, “Yes.”

“How do you feel?”

Azriel didn’t know how to respond. His mind slowly cleared, thanks to whatever they had done to strip the drugs from his body, but his body revolted. A violent shudder ran through him as he assessed, speaking for him.

Sasja’s grip tightened. “You’re fighting soon. You have to survive.”

He turned his attention to the massive holes before him where people screamed in pain as the onlookers cheered for their fighters. Disgusting. “No guarantees.”

Finally, she turned her face to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to face her full-on. She’d saved his life the last time he’d gone into a fight. He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her face that he’d be alright. There was no telling if he’d walk out again—especially when his own body refused to cooperate.

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