Page 57 of The Monster's Mate

“Athos is a djinn,” I say, trying to find the right words. “Since we bonded, only my wishes have to be granted, but I don’t want to force anything on you…”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Eldritch

The sight of the dragon pits makes me shiver as we materialize. Malice drops my half brother, along with Bane, down in the sand before siphoning us to the viewing deck.

He disappears again as my leather braces dig into the railing, and I lean over to get a better view. It’s a significant distance, since the pits are carved deep into the ground.

No matter the time of night, they’re never truly empty. There’s always a fresh crop of soldiers to torture under the guise of training.

“Everyone out,” Bane roars.

Those who don’t take a knee rush out with a fervency that would be humorous under any other circumstance. I can’t decide if they’re kneeling for the prince—now the king, if we want to get technical—or their former commander.

“I said get the fuck out,” Bane growls, spinning in a circle. The few stragglers quickly find their way to the exits. “Cyril has waived his immunity to be challenged. It might be the first truly honorable thing he’s done in his long life.”

Murmuring fills the air as Malice appears next to me again. “Sorry about that. I just needed to ensure Bane would have a fair fight.”

Wraith appears in his hood with Hazel in the crook of his arm.

Gods.

That is a terrifying sight.

She needs a tiny, baby reaper robe. The pink dress and purple bow headband seem to give the wrong impression.

Knight steps forward, turning to address the crowd. “Cyril is no longer your prince. He’s to be treated as any other challenger in the pit. If you break protocol, you’ll be removed by me or my partner.” Rather than turning to address the other side of the crowd, the sin eater does a backflip. “Have you been introduced to a reaper up close and personal? Would you like to be?”

“Knight does love to showboat.” Malice chuckles.

“Pick your form,” Bane commands.

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Cyril hisses. “You’re the traitor to the crown.”

“Charity is my mate.” Bane slowly unzips his puffy black coat. I’m unfamiliar with the style, since it’s not something that would be worn in Faere. “You knew she was intended for someone other than you.” He tosses the jacket toward Knight, who catches it one-handed. “Then you had the audacity to kidnap her kid. Pick a fucking form, or I’ll do it for you.”

Cyril’s wings erupt, shredding his tunic.

Bane chuckles. “Yeah, why not break the rules from the jump?” He tugs off his harness filled with blades and his T-shirt in one swoop, tossing them to the edge of the ring.

Knight siphons over, catching them before they can hit the dirt. He grins like this is a game, but I know how dangerous my half brother can be.

Cyril doesn’t worry about his shoes or pants, simply jumping and fully transforming in the air.

Bane crouches slightly. Using his wings, he pushes off and lands out of Cyril’s reach. He works on his belt and jeans, stretching down to loosen his boots, which don’t hang open for once. He kicks out of them as he transforms.

The violent sounds of shifting fill the air as his bones break, stretch, and reform.

Wraith and Knight don’t leave the ring, which seems dangerous when the reaper holds a baby.

Technically speaking, the fighting rarely stays in the pit.

Cyril, in full dragon form, barrels across the fighting ring. His massive frame leaves indents in the sand as his tail swishes from side to side.

Bane shakes out his wings that are now in complete dragon form. His beastly head tilts, and he releases a screech that promises pain and suffering.

Cyril hits Bane as Bane’s dragon rears on its hind legs. They go tumbling, slamming into the wall on the far side of the pit. Even with my enhanced eyesight, it becomes difficult to see for several seconds as dirt and sand fly up around them.

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