Page 51 of The King of Frost and Shadows

He grunted, his hold on my neck loosening, so I grabbed his arms and jerked forward. He sailed over my shoulder and landed hard on his back, deeper into the gas.

Before I could recover, someone slammed into my back.

I landed face forward with a thud as the man straddled me from behind. He forced my arms to my sides, and I used the opportunity to swing my head back. I hit something solid and heard a sickening crack. Warm liquid drippedonto me, and I tried not to think about what it was. I flipped over, knocking him off, and kicked him in the side, thrusting him farther away.

He whimpered and rolled to his feet then ran back to the spot where he’d been. “I need help killing her!” he cried nasally, turning toward me again. “Someone with a weapon!”

This time, I pulled an ice spike from my pocket and fit it into the sling. I swung the sling over my head. My wrist ached while my legs began to quiver again from the effects of the gas and physical exhaustion. I couldn’t stand much longer.

Out of the corner of my eye, the gas resembled fog as it hovered over my shoulders. I snapped the sling forward, aiming for the guy’s neck because the last two times, the stones had landed slightly lower than what I’d aimed for.

The guy jerked his head back, and the ice hit its actual target. It lodged into his neck, and blood squirted out. His eyes widened, his hand reaching for his throat.

My stomach dropped. I’d gone from not ever killing to being a murderer in the blink of an eye. My vision tunneled, but the sound of a scream kept me in the present. I watched the dusky-haired woman drop to her knees beside the man who’d fallen while I’d been freaking out.

I swallowed. It was time to face the consequences and hope like hell I figured out a way to survive. Though I had no clue how much longer we had to stay in this nightmare.

As I jogged away from the gas, I noted the sight before me. The dark-green-haired man and woman fought with their backs to one another. She readied to fire an arrow but held off, possibly because she had only two more in herquiver.

We were all running low.

Of the fifty who’d entered the arena, there were about fifteen survivors, and the gas filled everywhere but this corner, like they’d driven us here to fight one another.

“You!” the dusky-haired woman spat, her eyes shining like gunmetal. “Your kind always brings death to us.” She barreled toward me, and I swung my sling, aiming for her shoulder, not wanting to risk killing yet another person. I’d caused enough death for one day, and unlike them, I didn’t relish it.

Luckily, I hit my mark exactly as intended.

Her right shoulder jerked back, and she stumbled a few steps. “Someone help me kill the wildling!”

The pale-blue-haired man sneered, turning away from the green-haired duo and stalking toward me. “I get to kill her. No one else.”

As he closed the distance between us and raised a sword, I put another sharp piece of ice into my sling and swung it. This time, my wrist moved much slower, and my legs wobbled.

Between the gas, emotional trauma, and the entire fucking nightmare, I was losing what little strength I’d gained. I released it, and the ice hit his right leg. He stumbled onto a dark-colored rock—the kind that exploded.

Aboomechoed in my ears, and part of his boot and calf blew off. He blanched and hissed, but he hopped on one foot, still moving toward me. Blood gushed from his leg, and my chest heaved. This couldn’t be happening again. My goal in life had been to become an environmentalist, but that dream seemed so far away now that I had blood on my hands. All I wanted to do was go back to when things were simple.

“It’s receding!” the dark-green-haired woman shouted. “We can surround her. She can’t make it to the next round.”

I glanced over my shoulder to confirm what she’d said. Holy shit. This was the end for me. There was no other way around it.

I backed up to the edge of the gas so the others couldn’t get behind me yet. All thirteen of them converged on me with one clear goal.

Kill the sunscorched bitch.

Well, they’d probably call me a bitch if they knew what the term meant.

My heart hammered, and I looked at Tavish. If this was going to be the end, I wanted to see the handsome jackass one last time.

He remained seated, but he was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. I could see how tense his muscles were from here. His jaw was clenched, and he mouthed the wordwonfor some reason.

Of course, the jackass was gloating that he had won. Why had I wanted to look at him? Still, something inside me didn’t want to look away. My eyes took in every inch of his face, his full lips, his everything.

“Ahh, it seems she’s taking a liking to the Unseelie king after all.” The pale-blue-haired man cackled, but his malice fell flat under the strain of his injuries. Sweat dripped down his face, and more blood gushed from his leg.

The gas drew back farther, allowing the edge of the frozen rock to appear behind me, opening my entire right side to an attack. I noted every sword, dagger, and short sword they had.

The pale-blue-haired man charged, limping on his right foot as he lunged toward me, sword held overhead. His hands shook, and then he swung it at me.

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