Page 54 of Reign of Betrayal

“Don’t call me that!” I snap.

The others chuckle, except Marshalla, who smacks Jake’s chest with a scoff.

“Leave her alone, Jake! First and final warning,” Elm demands.

“Or what, Elm? What is it you think you’re going to?—”

Elm’s palm blade flies through the air, slicing through the chatter with a sharp whoosh before it strikes the tree right next to Jake’s head, cutting his words off.

DINK!

Jake freezes, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Elm stalks over and bends down in front of him. He yanks the knife out of the tree without saying another word. He doesn’t have to. Then, he walks back over to me.

“The fire would attract beasts out here,” Elm says, voice steady. “We use the moonlight. If you’re cold, share body heat. We need to work together.”

With that, the others settle into their bedrolls, clustering together for warmth. Elm and I keep some distance from the rest of the group, our backs pressed together.

I try to close my eyes, but the silence in this place feels wrong, unsettling. The wind howls, whispering words like a bad omen carried across the night air. The cold bites deeper at night. With every gust of wind, the sand stings my eyes.

“You need to sleep, Reign,” Elm says immediately after I huff.

“I can’t. Don’t you find the quietness disturbing? Plus, the damn sand keeps blowing in my face.”

“It’s the desert. There is nothing out here. I enjoy the silence. Here… turn toward me. The sand won’t blow in your face. I’ll shield you.”

I shift toward Elm, and his arms wrap around me, pulling me close. I bury my face in his chest, the warmth soothing the chill in my bones. With the sand no longer in my face, I relax a little, grateful for his protection. Elm has always been the big brother I never had but always wanted—steady, protective, and dependable. I tug a loose edge of my cloak over him, sharing what warmth I can in return.

As we lay there, Kylo’s words echo in my mind:“I have known Luke my whole life and never seen him act like this with anyone but you.”The thought only deepens the confusion swirling inside me about how and what I feel for the prince. I let my mind drift to a handsome black-haired, green-eyed man and wonder what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms, to be enveloped in his shadows. How would his lips feel on mine? I know I shouldn’t think like that, but I allow myself to for just a few moments.

* * *

“Ahh.”A guttural scream shatters the silence.

Elm and I jolt awake at a gut-wrenching yell that pierces the air violently. We’re on our feet in seconds, eyes snapping toward the other contestants. The rising sun casts a golden, ominous glow over the sands. Nothing could prepare me for what I see next.

Pincers the size of scythes burst through the sand, breaking the surface. It clamps down on the lower leg of a male contestant. His continuous screams are sharp and blood-curdling.

In seconds, the creature fully emerges. Its wiry, tan body—about the size of a dog—moves with eerie precision on several spindly legs, skittering like an oversized insect. Two massive pincers jut from each side, clamping and twitching. Above its back, a barbed tail arches high, ending in a sharp spike poised to strike.

With a brutal snap, one pincer clamps down, severing the contestant’s leg with a crunch. Before any of us can react, the creature’s tail plunges into his chest. When it’s finished, it drags the now-limp body back beneath the sand.

“What the fuck is that?” Jake shouts, his voice cracking.

“I don’t know!” Elm yells, “Get on the rocks. It’s coming from the sand.”

Elm grabs my hand and shoves me in front of him. When we get to the rock, he helps me climb up with three other contestants. There isn’t enough room up here for anyone else. The rocks are steep and jagged, and we are barely fitting as it is. Elm runs to one of the acacia trees and scales it alongside another contestant.

“Zahara, what in the double burning hells are you doing?” Jake barks at one of the prisoners—a girl with long golden hair.

She has her hand in the sand and her eyes closed. “I have earth magic. I am trying to see if I can sense any more down there or where that one went.”

We all go silent, our eyes are stuck on her. Even the wind seems to hold its breath in anticipation, as if waiting for the next horror to unfold. The seconds crawl by, my pulse pounding in my ears. My breathing stutters, each new breath shallow and ragged, sweat beading along my brow.

Zahara’s eyes snap open, wide with fear. “One of them is close, I can feel it near us.”

The words barely escape her lips before a pincer bursts from the sand, latching onto her elbow and slicing clean through bone. Her scream cuts through whatever stillness we felt, raw and piercing. I watch as she crumples into the sand.

I hurl myself from the rock and sprint toward where she lay in a heap among the dunes.

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