Page 16 of Shadebound
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. It was too much. Too fast. I had dozens of questions, but there was no time. I couldn’t even blink twice before the sand beneath my boots buzzed with magic, and the crowd above chanted something unintelligible.
My breath came shallow now, my heart hammering like a war drum against iron. I couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or the slightest shiver of dread.
A horn sounded before I could work it out, and the arena ignited.
Part Two
‘The only thing they can get me for is running a funeral parlour without a licence.’
John Wayne Gacy
Field Journal, Entry #003 — Classified
They wanted a display. So we gave them carnage. The arena was not a lesson. It was a mirror—polished with blood and fear until even the weakest of us could see the truth. We were never meant to be taught. We were meant to be broken, catalogued, and filed under useful.
Magic flared. Bones snapped. I watched a girl laugh while she killed. Not because it was sport. Because it was easier than pretending she was still somewhat human.
No one asked who won. That wasn’t the point. Survival was the only applause.
And some of us were very good at earning it.
Chapter Six, A Sword & A Mistake
Flames from a fire witch burst from the left, pillars of heat roaring skyward. Lightning forked across the ceiling in jagged streaks, crackling like a whip as the silver haired spirit witch who wielded it laughed. Shards of ice from a frost kitsune shot out like frozen spears, embedding themselves in the stone with a splintering crack. A wave of water from a siren surged in a frothy rush, sending fighters skidding off their feet. And asudden gust of wind whipped embers into a swirling tornado of heat and grit.
All normal things. Totally regular and not at all overstimulating enough to make me want to scream again.
“Let’s show them how it’s done,” Zayden called, his tone calm amid the chaos. For a moment, I wondered why he hadn’t shifted into his full werewolf form—then the ground trembled, a fissure ripping open as a nature witch bent earth magic to fight.
The sight of that magic made all other thoughts vanish.Not just because seeing someone manipulate nature was insane no matter how many times you saw it.
Someone screamed, snatching my focus back from trauma and twin sisters. The ground shook harder as a polar bear shifter exploded into fur and claws and launched across the icy parts of the floor. Before I could steady myself after losing grip, another group of people were wielding weapons from the tables. They clashed together as magic cracked through the air like a storm.
“Zayden—” I started, but he was already moving.
I caught his eye for a heartbeat, sharing a silent promise. He instantly slid into position on my left as his body quivered. His muscles glowed with silver light from his wolf shifter magic.
“Last one standing wins. Don’t kill anyone who doesn’t try to kill you.” His silver eyes flickered as his shift finally started. Albeit just to give him sharp teeth and claws. “And don’t use your magic, J. At all.”
I had no idea who we were fighting. Or why. The teams had not been explained to me. Nor had the rules. It was just chaos.
I took part, though.
Happily.
I grabbed Draven’s sleeve and pulled him toward a broken chunk of the wall for cover. My mind raced through possibilities. But when I spotted the weapons table again, just beyond our makeshift shield, I pointed and signed;We need blades.
He nodded, and we dashed towards it, weaving through the fray as weapons and sparks flew. I sidestepped a spinning ember; Draven dove under a crackling bolt. For a heartbeat, I glanced back at Zayden. He still hadn’t fully shifted; it was only his head that had turned into a wolf. In his full wolf form, he would have been easily twice my height, with silver fur bristling over broad shoulders, massive limbs built for tearing. But even without that, he was more than capable as he lunged at the kitsune, jaws clamping around them, tearing their throat out and breaking their neck. The sickening crack of bone echoed in my ears, and a fierce rush of dark excitement warmed me.
Was this an inappropriate time to recall how his regular teeth felt grazing along my neck?
Or my thighs.
My brother and I skidded to a stop at the table. But before either of us could grab a weapon, a gnarled wooden spear whistled for Draven’s head. I yanked him down, shadows flaring to parry the strike with a burst of darkness. Then I cursed under my breath, reminding myself not to touch my magic as I got back to my feet and sought out the danger in a more humanly manner.
A bland, lifeless, pathetic manner.
The nature witch from before stepped into view—nothing like the gentle earth weavers I’d known. Instead, his golden hair whipped around his snarling face, making him look more Chad the Alpha Bro who talked shit about women on a podcast. Rather than a forest guardian who knew basic respect.
