Page 60 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
Between the legs of a bloodthirsty figure looming over her, she saw Zarathos pause and turn.
“I beg of you,” she gasped, actual tears stinging her eyes. “Please,please.”
He didn’t move. It was too late. He wasn’t going to intervene.
More hands descended on her. She tried to strike out, to fight them off, but there were far too many snaking toward her, yanking her back down. They pinned her against the rough ground, dirt filling her mouth.
“Hold, my subjects. Do not attack.”
The hands paused.
Several released her. Aryana didn’t dare move. Zarathos stood a short distance behind the gathered demons.
“You can’t retract your words,” growled the werewolf, Dravek, his grip tight around her leg. He glared at Aryana with a vengeful fury that would only be satisfied by ending her, violently and without mercy. “You said we couldhaveher.”
“I am still your king.” Zarathos’s icy voice held a threat so deep it made her shiver. “She belongs to me. Youwilldo as I command.”
“The hell I will.” He sank his teeth into Aryana’s leg. The pain seared through her and she cried out.
Zarathos’s wings lifted him up, and he surged forward, grasping the demon by the neck. He hoisted him, and with a swipe of his claws, opened his throat. The demon shook as he struggled for breath and he was flung to the ground.
Zarathos’s lip curled. “Look at that, my subjects. I have provided you with a substitute.”
Without giving him another chance to rescind his order, the other demons descended on the werewolf. His gurgling scream made the crowd go wild.
Zarathos turned to Aryana, his expression hard, but… gods, was that relief she saw reflected there? Somehow, the situation had been saved.
He gripped her chains, and she started to rise.
“Stay down.” He gave her a forceful shove. That was right, this wasn’t over yet.
And so she didn’t say anything as he hauled her along the ground, the stone underneath scraping against her body until they returned to the barred waiting area. The smell of blood and death was thick in her nostrils until the moment Zarathos slammed the bars shut. He jerked on a lever and a rock wall crashed over the bars, giving them some privacy. Zarathos leaned against it, his breaths heavy. He reached a trembling, scarlet covered hand into his pocket and pulled out his clear potion. Unstopping the vial, he quickly downed the contents.
Aryana held her leg, attempting to ignore the pain and staunch the bleeding. “I didn’t realize things would get so carried away—”
He threw the vial against the wall, shattering it into a thousand tiny shards. “What in the hell did you think you were doing?” His teeth flashed in the low lit room. “I try to make things a little less traumatizing for you, and you suppose that means we should turn it into pleasure hour?”
Damn it. He was right.
What was it about the demon arch king? Something about him unraveled her, making her lose all sense of control.
“I—I—have no excuse.”
“You want to know the most important rule concerning the Demon Trials? Here is the only rule that matters. Play your part or die. Don’t you ever,everdraw my blood in public again. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He reached for a second lever and pressed it, causing a section of floor to drop out of the middle of their enclosure. “Go back to your prison, Aryana. I will see you soon.”
Chapter 20
Aryana
Aryana limped down the stone slab into her cell. Some of the others were unable to walk on their own and were tossed back down by their champions.
The kalators of the Demon Trials had something in common tonight.
Pain.
