Page 5 of Demon's Prey

This. This is what I've been missing.

The roar of the crowd fades into white noise as the rush of battle consumes me. I tilt my head back, reveling in the thrill coursing through my veins. For once, I don't care about politics or responsibilities. I am alive, unchained, gloriously untamed.

A commotion at the arena's entrance snaps me back to reality. Soldiers in ceremonial armor pour into the ring, their expressions a mix of shock and outrage. Of course, my moment of rebellion wouldn't go unpunished.

"Lord Dazirus!" Zalith's panicked voice rings out from the luxury box above. "They're here to take you back!"

I throw my head back and let out a hearty laugh as the soldiers surround me, their spears leveled in my direction. Do they really think a few pointed sticks can contain me? The arrogance is almost endearing.

"You boys picked the wrong demon to mess with," I taunt, flexing my claws. A wicked smile plays on my lips as I prepare to tear into them.

Before I can make my move, a flash of light envelops me, sapping my strength. Runic bindings snake around my wrists and ankles, draining my powers. I growl in frustration, struggling against the magical restraints as the soldiers close in.

"Enough of this nonsense, Lord Dazirus," a gruff voice commands.

I turn to see the Captain of the Royal Guard glowering at me, his hand glowing with the remnants of the binding spell. Curse that overconfident prick and his self-righteous adherence to the rules.

The soldiers seize me, their grips vice-like as they haul me away from the arena. I thrash against their hold, but the bindings have effectively neutered my powers. For now.

As they drag me past the entrance, I catch a glimpse of Zalith watching from above. The smug bastard looks utterly relieved to have me restrained. I lock eyes with him and flash a defiant grin.

"Next time, Zalith," I call out with a laugh. "Next time!"

My voice echoes through the arena as the soldiers pull me into the tunnel beyond. They may have captured me, but they'll never tame the fire that rages within. This was just the beginning of my rebellion against the shackles of nobility.

I am Dazirus Kal'Vareth, and I will not be denied my freedom.

3

NARINA

The rough hands of the guards shove me forward, the coarse fabric of the blindfold scratching against my face. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to make sense of the sounds around me - the shuffle of boots on stone, the murmurs of a gathering crowd.

I chance a peek under the edge of the blindfold. Through the narrow slit, I catch glimpses of an enormous chamber lined with rows of benches. An auction house. Fear tightens its icy grip around my throat.

The guards yank us to a halt, their attention diverted by shouts and commotion from the front of the room. I lean in close to Mariel, her warmth a small comfort against the chill air.

"Get ready," I whisper to the likewise blindfolded woman beside me, my voice a tremulous rasp.

My bound hands scrabble against the rough floor, fingertips seeking anything that could aid our escape. They close around a jagged shard of bone, and I work it feverishly against the ropes, sawing back and forth.

One...two...three strands fray and snap. I grit my teeth, sweat beading on my brow from the exertion, but finally the last fibers part. My wrists are free.

Keeping my movements small and furtive, I shift behind Mariel and begin working on her bindings. All around us, the raucous crowd swells in anticipation of the first lot. I can use their distraction to our advantage.

"Narina..." Mariel's whisper is taut with fear, but I press my finger to her lips, silencing her. “I’m scared. What if we get caught?”

"Trust me," I murmur back, and her muscles relax ever so slightly beneath my hands. “I’ll have you loose in a jiffy.”

With a final tug, her ropes fall away. I grip her arm, pulling her close.

"When I say 'go', we run,” I say, holding her shoulders and locking gazes. “Don't look back. Head for the exit and don't stop for anything. Understand?"

She gives the barest nod, her jaw set in determination. I take a steadying breath, my senses straining. There has to be a way out of this cell they've locked us in.

The dank cell reeks of mildew and despair. Mariel huddles in the corner, her eyes wide with fear. I pace like a caged animal, my mind racing. Freedom's so close I can taste it, mingling with the iron tang of blood in my mouth.

Our orc guard shuffles past, his beady eyes glazed with boredom. Perfect.

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