Page 18 of The Salvation

After this turmoil of testing is done…

The violent and frenzied tension around the arena is thick as torrents washing over me until my pulse thunders in my veins.Hundreds of eyes root upon the God of Blood, vampire wings flaring in a warning, a precursor of an attack.

I have no choice but to place my faith, my trust, and all my hopes in the vampire I love.

No sooner do I blink than Merikh takes to the air. On the strongest wings of all four gods, he drives himself higher. Hovering in a circle, he beckons the vampires, daring them to challenge him. I recognize the predatory hunger in his eyes, the primal possession. It was there when Kronos first threatened me and nearly killed Jinx. It was there when he knew Shadow was going to attack me, and he prevented it and took the blows. It was there in the cave when he twisted the taur’s neck and snapped it to prevent the beast from hurting me.

Movement to my left draws my eye from him.

A panicked gasp chokes my throat when Merikh descends upon the first assailant who tries to target the altar. To target me. My gasp is cut in half as the Lord of the Court of Hollows charges down upon the vampire before he can get within a few feet of me. The sickening crunch of bone churns my stomach. It all happens in seconds. From this angle, I can’t tell if he’s killed the vampire, but the opponent isn’t moving.

My lips part in awe when Merikh launches into the air, soaring over the altar in a single swoop of dark and lethal grace before crashing into the next opponent. This time, he snaps the vampire’s neck, dropping the attacker to the floor.

Horror grips my spine when multiple vampires attack from above, but Merikh launches to meet them, his wings like shadowy blades, his claws and fangs primed. He tears through others’ wings like they’re lacy scraps. One vampire falls right next to the altar, wings shredded to ribbons of flesh and sinew. The iron scent of blood chokes my lungs and constricts my throat.

The sound of bodies slamming against the walls and pillars of the court—louder than an iron battering ram smashing against fortress walls—diverts my eyes. To my left, I see Merikh scaling a pillar carved of bone, blending in with the shadows and sweeping his carnal gaze upon the arena. Whenever another vampire flexes their wings and crouches, Merikh vaults and rips into them before they can lunge from their seat.

The arena erupts in a cacophony of slashing claws, breaking bones, and roars of pain.

Dark reverence fills me at the sight of him launching from pillar to pillar, moving with such otherworldly grace and cunning, that it defies the laws of nature. He’s more invisible than a phantom.

When two vampires attack on my right, they get within three feet of the altar before Merikh falls upon them. My heartbeat stumbles as he crashes their skulls together and drops their bodies like discarded puppets.

The vampire I love has become a tempest of darkness, defying gravity, and proving his unholy prowess and rightful ruling as the God of Blood without even using his power!

But I can tell he’s slowing when he uses more lethal cutting force—stopping the next vampire by ripping his claws into the assailant’s chest and gutting out the undead heart within.

Just as Merikh growls and licks the bloodied lining of the heart, something shadows out of the corner of my eye...moving right for me.

“Merikh!” I cry, but he’s already there, gripping the next vampire by the throat with one hand, the other still holding the bloody organ.

The attacker opens his mouth, begging for mercy. All of me grows cold as Merikh grimly smiles. In one pronounced move, Merikh shoves the heart down the vampire’s throat, forcing him to choke on it.

A hush falls upon the crowd. Others pause, thinking twice before targeting the masterful predator who stands next to the altar with his wings, muscles, and claws primed. Blood and flesh drench his figure, coating the dark strands that cling to his face, but they hardly inhibit his vision.

I start to settle against the stone, my shoulders sinking with relief that this battle may finally be over...

...until I notice new challengers lurking in the shadows. Four of them—one for each direction—all closing in to target the man I love. Terror storms my blood, and I know Merikh can feel it.

He turns his head, locks eyes with each of them, and beats his wings as the four lunge into a deadly assault. My heart crashes against my rib cage, but it’s nothing compared to the crash of their bodies when Merikh thrusts into the air at the last second to force their collision. One recovers too quickly and dives for the altar. A scream lodges in my throat, and I clench my eyes shut, bracing myself for the fangs.

They don’t come.

When I dare to open one eye, that scream leaves in a sob of gratitude, but it doesn’t stop my body from shaking. Because the vampire is suspended in midair an inch from the altar—and silver blood oozes from his eyes, his mouth, his very pores.

Merikh’s familiar growl, his heavy breath echoes around me. A moment later, the bleeding vampire drops into a well of his own blood.

Once again, the God of Blood takes his place before the altar, raising his hands in a taunt, a daring command. But the dozens of bodies littering the floor like macabre corpse trophies give everyone pause.

Hope floods my chest, lifting my shoulders.

But when a grouping of vampires circles down from the third story of the Court, I know I should have known better than to believe this was done. The first two phases of battle were moreof a warm-up—a way for others to break Merikh down and ready him for the real assault.

Tremors rip through my body several vampires descend like a grim choreographed dance to challenge the God of Blood.

For the first time, Merikh doesn’t leap into action. He remains close, close enough for me to strain my fingers in the cuffs and sweep them above his arm, but I don’t dare touch him.

“Arkenthorne,” Merikh darkly remarks to the vampire with silvery gray hair, whiter and longer than mine, with not so much as a wave. It’s clear the vampires around him are part of his clan. “Valeryc, I expected. Not you.”