Page 121 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

“It’s that or your life!” I tug harder on Artain’s shirt, twisting the cotton in my fingers to jerk him around to face me. “It’s an easy choice. One night and it’s over.”

Artain looks down at my hand on his bicep with a calculated smile that makes me feel like I’ve walked into a trap.

“An easy choice? Hmm, perhaps notthateasy. You see, princess, when we set the terms, I didn’t say one night. I said that when the sun sets, I’ll have you for the entire night.” He toys with the edge of his blade. “And the sun setseverynight.”

I rip my hand away like he’s on fire, retreating with fear building in each step. “No—no, that’s a lie. You always joke about spendingonenight with me. One.”

He uses the knife blade to clean a spec of dirt from under one fingernail. “That’s your fault for assuming that’s what I meant when I set my wager.” He shrugs impishly. “Every nightwith Lady Sabine. Vale might not like it at first, but he’ll come around. Who could be a better prospect for his precious daughter than a god?”

My throat closes up, choking me, but Basten interrupts before I can spit pure fury at Artain.

“You planned this all along, didn’t you?” His muscles twitch, but he marshals his temper and slams his knife into a tree trunk instead of Artain’s skull. In a tightly coiled voice, he says, “No weapons. No powers. No game. Just you and me—we decide this here and now with our fists.”

“No.” I plant my palms on Basten’s broad chest, shoving him back from Artain. But he might as well be an anvil. Hebarely budges. His eyes glow like hot coals, his skin burns beneath my hands. I shout, “He’ll kill you!”

The tendons on his neck bulge out as he bares his teeth. “I’d sooner die right now than see you bound to behisslave every night.”

I shove my heels into the ground to brace myself as Basten pushes against me, trying to get to Artain. “Hey. Hey, look at me! This is what he wants—to pit us against each other. So he can win the game!”

“It isn’t a fucking game anymore, Sabine! It’s your life! It’s every night!”

In the distance, the bellringer signals Seventh Hour.

Oh, no.

No, not yet…

My stomach drops.

The bell’s echo reverberates from my toes to the tips of my fingers, pressed against Basten’s chest, leaving me feeling as hollow as that damn brass bell itself.

In a flash, the breath vanishes from my lungs. I try to heave, but my ribs crush inward like I’ve been slammed by the bell clacker, unable to get air.

My eyes lock with Basten’s. In all the time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen bald-faced panic burn in his pupils. But now, they’re blown big as pennies.

The bell hasn’t even stopped ringing when he murmurs hoarsely, “Sabine.”

A ragged cry tears from my throat. “Basten—I’m sorry.”

Throwing all my weight forward, I dig the heel of my palms into his left lower ribcage where he was hurt in the Everlast. He clocks my movement a fraction too slow to stop me.

Groaning, he doubles over to clutch his side.

I trip backward in a blind rush, hands snagging in doghobble bushes, as a phantom pain pinches in my own ribcage.

“I’m sorry,” I choke. “I can’t let him kill you.”

Basten tosses his head up, hair already sweat-soaked as it streaks his forehead. “Sabine, don’t run!”

But I have to.

Can’t he see? If I stay, then he dies.

His shouts are barely afterthoughts as I turn and tear through the doghobble like the frightened fawn that I’m supposed to play.

At the edge of my periphery, I see Artain pluck one of the doghobble leaves I brushed by, crushing it in his hands and burying his face in his cupped palms to memorize my scent.

Screw Artain. Screw all of them. I fell right into the beautiful trap they laid out for me, baited not with honey wine and gowns but with the promise of freedom.

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