Page 100 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
Dead.
The horn blared, marking the end of the trial. Across the arena, Tigon had claimed the crown.
The crowd had gone strangely silent. Tension filled the air as their accusing stares burned into his skin.
His plans for the trials had been thrown into chaos.
Zarathos spun to face Aryana, despite everything, needing to ensure that she was all right. “We should—”
She lunged away from him over to a mound and started clawing at the dirt. He swore. That cut on her thigh went deep. Blood flowed from her at an alarming rate. What did she think she was doing at a time like this?
But she didn’t seem to care. She dug deeper, throwing soil and rock aside with the ferocity of an insane female until she released a sigh and reached down, pulling the human kalator out of the dirt.
He swore again. The bleeding heart. Didn’t she understand the human was as good as dead? They all were, now. And she’d be the first to expire if she lost all of her blood out of that wound. He stalked over and scooped her into his arms.
“We need to go, Vampress.”
Her gaze met his, but then she nodded, and he spread his wings, flying her from the field. He looked up at the section of stands where the council sat and made a slight movement with his wings, adjusting his trajectory for a brief moment before straightening out and heading for the exit. The sound of hissing and disapproval from the attendees in the arena marked them as the next to die.
Chapter 31
Aryana
As soon as they were out of sight of everyone, Zarathos pulled the shadows close, and they reappeared outside his room. Agony radiated through Aryana’s thigh and life-giving fluid poured from the wound, coating her dress and the arch king’s armor.
Zarathos kicked the door open, stalking inside with Aryana held so tightly in his arms she thought he might never let her go.
Marbas rushed into the room with a bag of supplies in hand, his trial council robes billowing around him. “I saw your signal. Here I am. I am here.”
“Good, Pithian. The cut is deep. She’s losing a lot of blood,” Zarathos said, placing Aryana down onto the bed. “She needs care immediately.”
“I’m on it.” Marbas sat next to her and she stared at him in disbelief as he started working on her.
“You… work for him?”
“We all work for someone, Princess.” He avoided her gaze and turned to Zarathos. “I can stitch this up, but she’s going to need to feed.”
Zarathos waved a hand at him, already stalking toward the door. It slammed shut behind him, causing both Aryana and Marbas to flinch. Everyone knew that she and the demon arch king were Bloodbound.
Gods, everything was ruined.
She gazed at Marbas while he worked. “Zarathos called you Pithian.”
“I am both, when necessary.” He produced a thread and needle. “I understand you mend quickly, especially with fresh blood, but I’m still going to sew it shut to ensure you don’t bleed to death. This might hurt.”
She grit her teeth when the needle and then thread pulled through her flesh. “He had you watching me this whole time?”
Marbas nodded as he continued to work. “He tasked me with keeping an eye on you.”
“Trying to see if I would give away his secrets.” Which was why he had asked her to report on the demon arch king even whilepretending he hated him. Why hadn’t she realized this before? It was so obvious.
“And to tend to you when necessary,” Marbas added.
She paused. “He sent you to pull me out after the opening ceremony so you could wrap up my wounds.”
“He did.”
He had come almost immediately, saving her from certain torture, and then, of course, Zarathos hadn’t simplyhappenedupon them. Their plan to get her to his room and away from the pain and agony had been from the start.
