Page 130 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
He staggered into the hallway, dazed. Aryana… She had betrayed him. He thought they’d at least shared a genuine connection, but she’d been waiting—waiting to use him all along.
It served him right. How many had he used in his lifetime?
Turnabout was fair play. Ever since they’d met, she’d wanted to kill him in the end, and she’d made sure of it before she walked away.
“Well played, Vampress,” he murmured.
Marbas followed him into the hall. “Your Majesty, please, I beg you to at least attempt to win. You can keep your bargains even if the power behind them is broken. You’re our king. We’re relying on you.”
That spark of protection had died, but he nodded. “I will try. But you must be prepared. Zarathos is finally getting what is coming for him.”
It was pointless. Aryana hated him. She’d done everything she could to take him down because she knew he couldn’t defeat the monster inside. He’d hurt others, done horrible things, and now it was his turn to pay the consequences.
Chapter 43
Zarathos
Zarathos stood in the small room, staring through the bars out into the arena. Trees covered the area, but they weren’t as numerous as a typical forest. That way, those in the stands could still enjoy their entertainment.
Demons always needed their entertainment.
He tried to shove thoughts of Aryana away—how they’d stood there together at the opening ceremony. Even then, he was already lost to her, though at the time he’d lied to himself, pretending he could resist.
What a fool he’d been, thinking he was capable ofloving without ruining it.
She’d finally done what she should have from the start. Escaped the monster.
Escapedhim.
He glanced down the row of barred rooms, knowing the other contestants would arrive soon: Xaphoron, Tigon, and Noctyssa. Once, the odds would have been in his favor. He had bargains with both Tigon and Noctyssa—or at least he used to. Now, any of them might be the one to end him.
Was he really any better than the rest?
Did he deserve to win?
Marbas’s words echoed in his mind:Deals or no deals, you’re the best chance we have.
He’d been stripped bare. Every bargain gone, nothing left to shield him. And yet… did that mean he couldn’t honor the promises he’d made? Couldn’t fight for those he vowed to protect?
Would that make him worthy?
Did he desire the crown? Or did he simply not want to die?
It was futile. His weakness had crippled him, revealed parts of him he’d fought to keep hidden, leaving him exposed. Now Aryana was gone, and Zarathos was left to face death alone.
His fists clenched. It didn’t matter what she did to him. He deserved it. And at least Zarathos would die knowing she remained unharmed, far from this killing ground.
The door on the other side of the room opened. Zarathos turned in surprise. Braxia, the leader of the trial council, stepped in and he raised an eyebrow at her.
“Is there something I can do for you?” He failed to hide the hint of sarcasm coloring his voice. His nerves were taut.
She walked up to the bars and looked out over the arena. “You’ve hidden quite a lot from us over the past years, my king.”
“You think it matters? My father understood my nature and yet chose me.”
He was a bastard, and yet, he had chosen Zarathos—someone able to expose his father more than any of his siblings.
“Yes, that may be the most disturbing thing,” Braxia said, her head tilted as she studied him. “And then there was the vampire princess.”
