Page 182 of Bloodguard

Around us, murmurs rise, and I’m emboldened. “What did you hope to accomplish with your cruelty? Did you want to win the pot? Was this all about money, just as it was when Vitor called the shots?”

The grumbles in the royal stands grow, the discord loud enough that I will have to shout to be heard. The arena isn’t about making money for Soro, but money is what this group of dunces cares most about, so I continue with the lie, hoping to rile them further. “You always wanted all the gold in all of Arrow.”

Soro may have doubted my involvement before, but he recognizes the game I’m playing now. And boy oh boy am I playing it well.

His gaze slams into mine as he stares me down. “You killed Aisling,” he says. More gasping from onlookers, this time directed at me. “You killed General Tut,” he adds.

I frown. It’s easy—I’m enraged. “Oh?” I say.

His hot, ragged breaths strike my face.

I smile sweetly. “Prove it.”

He points toward Leith. “That axe. That sword!”

Soro edges back as I straighten to full height. “What about them?” I ask. “I can see that it resembles Tut’s axe. But he’s an ogren general.” I purposely use the present tense to imply that murderous oaf may still be alive. “Are you saying your queen is stronger than your generals?” And by implication, stronger than him? Soro blinks several times. “Are you claiming I can bring down such a warrior single-handedly?” It’s hard not to smile as the royals in the box with us react in agreement. “And what of the Good King Masone’s sword? How would I possess such a weapon? Where would I find it, when it’s been hidden for years?”

What’s Soro going to say? I’m stronger than he wants anyone to know and I found the sword hidden in the secret catacombs where he keeps the damn phoenix?

As if I’m not daring him to kill me, I tug on the sleeves of my gown and settle back into my seat, eyeing him as my heart continues to pound at record speed. I insolently cross my arms as I take in Soro’s scathing expression.

Stars above, please let Leith survive this, even if I don’t.

chapter 67

Leith

Gunther peeks over his shoulder, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He breaks down when I step inside the crate. He hobbles forward, dragging his injured foot, and I catch him in a one-armed embrace.

His frail body is mere bones around a broken soul. He hugs me harder. “Bluh guar. Bluh guar, blood guar,” he says, crying so hard he can barely speak the words.

“Not yet,” I say.

I ignore the pain his tight hold inflicts on my broken rib and pass a hand over the ridges of the scars on his scalp, flattening the few spiky hairs that survived the years of cruelty dealt upon him.

My eyes squeeze shut. This could have been Dahlia or Rose had I tried to bring them with me. Being girls wouldn’t have spared them from the abuse immigrants to Arrow are subjected to. Far from it. Not that living in Grey spared them, either.

Fuck, this world is heartless.

My family didn’t make it.

Gunthermust.

Another crate explodes—fucking Soro—and the monsters are on the move.

Sand shoots past us as the ferocious colt races by. The explosion adds to the crowd’s unrelenting excitement. I can’t hear much inside this crate, and the noise outside makes it impossible to figure out exactly what’s happening.

Thunderous gallops have me whirling with my axe and sword out. Gunther yelps, clinging to my thigh and almost making me lose my balance. I shove him away, ready to fight.

The colt doubles back and storms by, her gray body and white mane bloody from the deep claw and fang marks the bear made.

Not that he won. Not that I expected him to.

The bear hangs from the colt’s left pointed horn. He isn’t moving, and his entrails drag along in the sand. Behind them, the saws follow. But that colt is too smart and clears them with ease.

It won’t take her long to finish her victory lap and suck down her meal.

Unless she’s still in the mood for a hunt. We must get out of this crate before we’re shredded by saws or, worse, trapped in here with her.

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