Page 188 of Bloodguard

I rise and face Soro, the aspiring king who is so noble and brave that he murdered a child—already battered, already suffering.

I’m mildly aware of the shock making its way around the arena.

Luther carefully cradles Gunther’s body in his arms and walks away. Pega follows, weeping. They’re quick. Almost as quick as Gunther’s slaughter.

I bend, pick up Gunther’s nail, and pocket it for safe keeping, like I did with Sullivan’s hair. Maybe they can be buried together.

And then I straighten. I wrench my sword from the vampire colt’s skull… The sword of the original king. And I set my sights on Soro.

I stalk forward, kicking through the sand. I couldn’t save Gunther, I failed Sullivan, and I was far from my sisters as they died scared and alone. But Iwillsave my queen.

Soro smiles. “Come now, gladiator. It was only a game.”

“I’m afuckingBloodguard!” I fire back. “And you, youcocksucking coward, just murdered a child!”

There’s a collective murmur in the crowd. Some boo him—even the surrounding royals. I don’t care about them. Soro has my full attention.

“He was small and defenseless,” I bite out through my teeth. “His name was Gunther, and he was my friend!”

Soro tosses his bow and arrow aside. “And what if he was?” he hisses, knowing he’s losing part of his loyal audience. “I will be your king!”

“No, you won’t,” I growl. “I challenge you, Soro, for Maeve of Iamond’s hand.”

The audience isn’t murmuring anymore. They’re screaming.

I pay them no mind. “I challenge you for that little boy’s senseless death, for Sullivan, and for every gladiator you’ve forced to fight in this wretched arena. I. Challenge.You, Soro, to a fight to the death.”

chapter 69

Leith

Soro and his cohorts exchange a round of stunned glances.

“What’s wrong?” I call out. “If you’re not brave enough to accept a challenge, you’ll never be brave enough to be king.”

The murmurs of the audience questioning Soro’s leadership are nothing compared to the excitement that builds.

“Bloodguard!Bloodguard!”

Soro raises his chin, takes in every section of the arena cheering for me, not him, and curses through his clenched teeth.

If I win, it’s over for him, and he knows it. But if Soro wins, it’s over for everything good in Arrow.

“Very well,” Soro says, his tone flirting with boredom. “If this is what you want.” He holds out his hand, where a servant is quick to place his sword.

As if he has all day, Soro makes his way down the arena level, but he doesn’t climb the retaining wall to enter.

I wait, eager to unleash the ass-beating that’s long overdue.

Soro takes the stance of a soldier prepared to fight. The wind is strong enough to flutter his ridiculous sparkly braid, and that evil grin gleams against his skin.

I relax my stance. My sword out.

He shouts to that snake Ugeen, who scrambles to his side. Soro mutters something. Ugeen nods in my direction, not that dick-suit bothers to engage me directly.

From one hell-bent breath to the next, Soro leaps into the arena, rage reddening his face. Resolute to prove he’s the better man.

I think I’m ready for his speed, but I’m wrong.

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