Page 54 of He Who Ignites The Flame
“Gods, what did they do to you?” I asked, quickly biting into my wrist, desperate to give her blood to help her heal.
“No,” she gasped, shoving away my hand as I lowered the wound toward her lips, blood rolling down my skin to drip onto her already blood-stained clothes. “You need…”
“You’re up!” the guard yelled, grabbing hold of my arm.
“No! We can’t leave her like this!” I shouted as they dragged me away from her, leaving her on the floor, chest heaving. “You bastards!”
I fought to get to her, and the Kobalos guard jerked me against him, a putrid stench wafting from his too-big leather armor. He forced my attention to his grotesque, goblin-like face, his ashen, bulbous nose reddened from what I assumed was an indulgence of fairy wine he’d likely stolen from one of The Pit’s spectators.
“If you won’t come, we’ll throw her into the pit in your place,” he growled, his milky eyes narrowing on me, sharp-toothed grin spreading with the promise of violence against those who wouldn’t stand a chance.
I froze, my pulse roaring in my ears.
“Go…” Kish gasped, and I twisted around to look at her. She couldn’t even push herself up.
“I’ll be back,” I promised, and the guards guided me out of the cell. “I’ll be back!”
The beast within me bristled, growling lowly at the guards as they escorted me down the tunnels and to the entrance of one of the fighting pits. How bad were her wounds? Would she make it to the end of my match so I could tend to her?
We passed Rhyas in the tunnel, and I pulled against the guards. Rhyas stiffened when he caught sight of me but didn’t speak, didn’t react,couldn’treact, lest he give away how much he aided me and the other captives.
“Kish!” I cried out, hoping and praying he understood.
The faintest hint of panic and terror flashed across his face as we passed, and I twisted to see him rushing toward the cells once he was out of view of the guards. I turned forward, fury burning in my chest, the beast within me pacing back and forth in quiet anticipation of what we stood to face.
A familiar face stood next to the gates, arms crossed over his leather-clad chest. The memories resurfaced as if they were yesterday, of himcarrying an unconscious child through the tunnels, how he had watched from the other side of the bars as I ran for my life from the Featherclaw who had shredded nearly half of the children he’d helped kidnap to pieces.
He had spent every moment since that terrible day ensuring my life was as difficult as he could make it.
“Well, hello there, Thalia. Ready to put on a show for us?” Santor said, his green eyes lighting up as he leaned against the wall. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response as I caught sight of a new signet affixed to his breast. He’d been promoted again, and I wondered just what he’d done to curry favor with Arden more than he already had.
He huffed a laugh. “So cold. I wonder if you’ll be that cold when we bring you in for Arden’s enjoyment again.”
The wooden gate groaned as it rose, and I flinched at the bright light of the pit as it flooded the tunnel, the roar of the crowd flooding my ears in deafening waves.
“Good luck,” he whispered and shoved me forward.
I grunted as I hit the dirt and resisted the urge to look back at the wooden door as it closed behind me, locking me within these terrible walls. No, I couldn’t let myself get distracted, not from what I stood to face.
My hands tightened into fists as I looked up at the massive creature crawling along the cage ceiling encapsulating the pit. Its long, armored body, lined with countless legs, wound and twisted as it turned its attention on me. Its head was a mass of countless beady red eyes and a razor-lined mouth armed with two monstrous pincers.
The beast growled within me, teeth bared, relishing in the fight to come—in all the ways we could bring this creature down.
Its blood will stain these walls just as the others did.
Blood soaked into my fur—my dappled gray coat painted in the crimson of my own blood mixed with the foul green of my prey—before pooling in the dirt beneath my paws. I panted, barely able to keep myself upright as I stood over the body of the creature who had put up far more of a fight than I cared for. The deafening sound of the crowd’s applause was unbearable. Most of the patrons cheered while some seemed displeased that I’d survived, clearly hoping for a more gruesome show. My legs quivered with exhaustion as I stumbled off the body.
I lifted my gaze to them, barely able to make out their faces in the darkness of the seats beyond the blinding lights of the pit. If only I could get up there, tear every one of them apart for what they subjected us to.
Something crawled over my skin as my attention was drawn to one spectator in particular, her eyes as black as the souls of those around her, her skin gray. Her smile was wicked, and there was power in her stare, the sort of power that promised violence and cruelty. She wasn’t like the other fae, and I wondered if she was even fae at all.
The beast within me recoiled under her gaze, but I didn’t allow myself to buckle. These monsters would never break me. They deserved to be trapped in these pits, to be beaten and bloodied, torn apart by these terrible creatures. I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I launched into a run, teeth bared as I charged toward the crowd. Their cheers quieted as I leaped at the cage, biting the metal, desperate to tear through it and get to them.
I was tired of being their entertainment, tired of fighting for their pleasure. It was their turn to entertain me, to bleed forme.
The patrons broke out into laughter, but as the metal started to bend under my jaws, they quieted, their laughs quickly fading to worried murmurs, then screams as the cage cracked. Guards rushed into the pit below, shouting at me as I continued to tear and fight to get through.
Pain shot up my spine, my skin burning where Arden’s mark inked my skin, and I whimpered as I released the cage and fell. Guards rushed me as I hit the ground, pain racking my entire body, Arden’s mark on fire as he brought me under his control.
