Page 37 of The Blood Crown

She didn't want to consider what he had planned should he succeed . . . No—thatwas not an option. Even if Ven should fail, she wouldn't let that be her fate.

Alaric lashed out without preamble, bursts of flame twisting through the air toward Ven a dozen feet away. The brilliant reds and ambers twirled and churned in mid-air but never reached their target as Ven unleashed his own dark power.

Palms stretched out in front of him, the corded muscle of his forearms apparent even under the sleeves of his tunic, shadows burst from his fingertips. The golden column of his throat tensed as a wall of darkness swirled around the flames, snuffing them out.

The silver-haired male took a step forward, bracing his magick against Ven’s as he unleashed another torrent of fire, flames licking closer to where Ven stood. But Ven did not flinch, did not falter, as his shadows swallowed the bright burst of fire in a single gulp, extinguishing them with an audible gasp—or maybe it was just the ravenous spectators surrounding them.

The smirk on the male’s face fell as his throat bobbed and a wild panic replaced the arrogance that had been in his pale red eyes just moments before.

Ven raised his hand, shadows coiling around Alaric, pinning his arms to his sides. His face was a mask of terror as Ven’s open palm closed into a fist.

The ropes of shadow tightened as Ven took a step closer, his expression cold, impassive. His voice lethally quiet.

“Do you yield?”

The male struggled, grasping at wisps of air and smoke. Rage narrowed his eyes, too proud to accept the mercy Ven offered him as he choked out, “Never.”

Ven clenched his fist, a snap echoing throughout the cavern.

The male’s broken body fell limply to the floor, and only silence followed as three of the others melted back into the crowd—thinking better of it.

Two remained, wrath written on their cold faces as they bombarded Ven with fire, red and orange flames singeing the air with their heat.

Fear constricted Aurelia’s throat as the relentless onslaught continued. A ribbon of flame passed closely enough to him that lightning crackled between her knuckles in response.

They were out for blood. There would be no mercy offered to Ven if they managed to defeat him.

Fatigue began to seep into the males’ features, a sheen of sweat collected at their pale temples as they continued to envelope Ven in flames—one shot bursting through the air just as another landed.

Ven’s dark hair clung to the nape of his neck in waves, falling over his eyes as he manipulated and twisted the darkness in response. Each attack was snuffed out by his power, his shadows swallowing up the fire like a dark, prowling beast.

They pressed in, pummeling him with flames. Aurelia’s heartbeat thundered in her chest as the amber and scarlet overtook him, the heat in the cavern scorching now as beads of sweat trailed down her temples and she lost sight of him completely as he was enveloped in fire.

A rumble shook the cavern.

Darkness gathered from every direction. And in the midst of it all—Ven emerged. His face, that of an avenging god. Maybe Fate herself. He lifted his palms, fingers clawed as satin night eddied, surging through the crowd at his call.

The cavern darkened, saturated with his power as he splayed his fingers wide.

Shadows thin as blades whipped out toward the males closing in on him.

Red mist blanketed the cavern.

Silence. There was only silence as the haze of smoke and blood cleared, revealing Ven—tall and proud amidst the broken bodies of his challengers.

And while every pair of eyes watched him, he lifted his head, crimson eyes focused on her.

Lethal intent sharpened his gaze as more shadows spilled from his fingertips—toward her.

Guards rushed forward, chaos erupting as Ven cut down four of them with a single thought, his magick reaching, grasping for her. A dozen more descended on him.

The shadows that swirled around him like a violent storm banked to watery tendrils, evaporating as silver cuffs were clamped onto his wrists once more.

The guards held him down, knowing the threat he posed even without his magick as they looked to their king for an order.

A smirk tugged at the corner of the king's mouth. "I could have you sentenced to death for killing my men," he finally said. The note of pride beneath the rebuke unmistakable.

"But you won't," Ven uttered, contempt lacing his words.

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