Page 58 of The Monster's Mate

They roll back toward the middle of the arena with their claws viciously slicing at one another.

Bane manages to get on top of Cyril, but Cyril takes a wild swipe at Bane’s wing.

“Am I the only one who thinks it looks a little like two T-Rexes slapping each other?” Malice asks close to my ear. “No? Just me?”

Bane snarls, stretching his long neck forward and taking a bite out of Cyril’s neck.

Cyril screeches and rolls. The struggling continues as Bane attempts to take Cyril’s head off.

It’s obnoxiously loud, but I’ve seen Cyril fight before.

I have little worry for Bane, unless my brother plays dirty, which incidentally, he’s been known to do.

Black blood squirts from Cyril’s neck as he manages to shove Bane off of him. Bane’s dragon slides across the sand, landing with a thump that shakes the wall on that side of the arena.

Cyril rolls to his feet, and his wings flap. He shoots into the air, sending dirt and debris flying in his wake.

“Bane seems to be done toying with him,” Malice says conversationally.

“Let’s hope it’s quick.”

Bane shakes out his wings and darts into the sky after my half brother. He’s slightly smaller than Cyril in dragon form, which makes Bane’s dragon more agile and swift as he races to catch up.

I held no allegiance to my father, and I certainly hold none to my corrupt brother. It’s just difficult to watch the carnage as Bane digs into Cyril’s wing with his teeth.

My wyvern knows how painful that can be. Cyril screams, his misery evident as he attempts to spin mid-air. His talons land in a solid swipe against Bane’s ribs, but Bane only clamps deeper.

The sounds are grisly as Bane attempts to rip Cyril’s wing from his back.

The death roll begins as Cyril realizes his wing will no longer flap to keep him up. He latches on to Bane, attempting to maneuver Bane’s dragon under him as they fall.

My hands dig into the railing as Cyril seemingly gains the upper hand, but Malice smacks me in the stomach with a shadow as I prepare to vault over the railing to shift to help Bane.

“He’s got a plan,” the nightmare murmurs. “Don’t fret.”

“What did we miss?” Athos’s voice appears before he does.

Charity has Veryn’s face pulled into her chest, like she’s trying to smother him with her bosom. I guess that’s a “Momthing” because I remember my mother similarly hugging me the day Cadryn ripped me from her grasp.

“We didn’t wait long enough,” Charity hisses. “Ohmigod, is Bane going to be okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Norah says from behind Charity. “We’ve all seen Bane fight. If Cyril wanted an actual chance, he should have opted for partially shifted, but he’s never been exceptionally bright.”

Cyril and Bane continue their long plummet toward the ground, struggling as they fall. Bane gets the upper hand with only seven or eight yards to spare. Cyril’s back slams against the dirt as everything freezes.

Glancing around, I see it’s actually everything, outside of the group we came with.

Wraith steps off the wall, and Baby Hazel seems to levitate right out of his arms. She turns until her middle is toward the ground and kind of crawls through the air. “You won, but my daughter is hungry. She can’t devour if he’s already dead.”

Bane’s dragon chuffs his displeasure, but as the demonling gets closer, even the twenty-five-foot beast scrambles away.

Athos snorts. “He’s afraid of the wee, tiny baby. This is my favorite day of all the days.”

“Would you like me to toss you down there to try your luck?” I offer, gently stretching away from the railing when I get a look at what Hazel’s face becomes.

Her mouth expands so wide, the top of her head falls back to allow for more space.

Looking over, I check to see if Veryn and Charity seem traumatized.

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