Damian came hard as Terric gave a last shudder and was still. He stood and watched the blood
pool in the trench.
He turned to Sabrina, who watched impassively from the grass. Her sacrifice would be more
enjoyable. She was much more vocal when things hurt, and he planned on dragging it out for quite a
while. Once their blood mixed in the trench, Damian would imbibe and his powers would combine
with the dead Immortals and nothing could stop him. Not even Kronos. If he bothered to try.
“Come, Sabrina.”
Sabrina stood gracefully and walked up the platform steps. He grabbed her and turned her to face
the crowd, kissing her neck. “I will allow you to fight me, but you will allow me to do what I must.
Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good girl.” He cupped her breast and squeezed her nipple until she whimpered. He held out his
hand and Neil placed the now-clean dagger in his hand. Damian pressed the point against Sabrina’s
naked breast, took a breath and—
“Stop!”
Damian snapped his head up, narrowing his eyes as he looked out over the field. Who dared
interrupt him?
A figure in white appeared at the edge of the field, tall in stature and broad of shoulder. With long,
slow strides he moved toward the platform, glowing in the moonlight.
Damian squinted. Who the hell is that?
Robed as an Elder, the diamonds along the edge of his robe glittered in the fire and starlight. Yet
Damian could not recognize him. He pressed his lips together and shoved aside the tremble of
uncertainty as the Elder approached.
Sabrina stepped away from Damian, staring at the figure. Her eyes widened, her lips parted. She
mouthed a word Damian could not understand and clenched and unclenched her fists.
Damian looked back at the hooded figure. It couldn’t be. No one would make an Elder-Son an
Elder! Not while his Elder was still alive.
But this man was far more than an Elder. He radiated a power Damian had never seen before.
The man stopped at the foot of the platform and pushed his hood back.
“Chase!” Sabrina exclaimed.