Page 65 of Immortal Throne

“Looks like Christmas came early,” he said.

My fingers tightened around the leather handles, still unsure how this was possible. “Weapons can’t be brought into the trials but…”

“No one ever said anything about weapons being sent in.”

“Hmm…”

“Would you rather fight these bastards empty handed?”

“No.”

“You’re smarter than I thought then.”

“You’re not worried that I’ll stab you in the back either?” I asked Ryker, making slashing motions with my new toys. The more I played with them, the more I liked how light and easy to wield they were.

“You won’t.”

“How are you so sure?” I don’t know why I bothered to ask. He’d already answered a similar question earlier during the magma trials–my mortal character flaw.

He smirked as if he followed my entire internal conversation. “As I mentioned before, you’re half human and one hundred percent too sentimental.”

And again, he made my compassion sound like a weakness. I rolled my eyes.

I didn’t have a chance to clap back. A loud roar rocked the arena and shook the ground. Dust rose up. Heavy footsteps thundered down and grew more intense with each step.

Something wicked this way comes.

Ryker pursed his lips and gripped the hilt of his sword. The humor that had tugged at his lips disappeared. The wind played with his dark hair and the sheer strength and beauty of the demon standing nearby struck me.

Not the time, Sloane.

The monster stepped into the arena through a large cloud of dust. Standing around twenty feet tall, a monstrous boar-like giant loomed over us. With hooved feet, he stood on two muscular legs and wore a tattered loincloth to hide his monster junk. Tough hide and coarse fur covered his bare chest.

My gaze kept traveling upward, more horrified by the second.

His face.

My brain short-circuited.

He had a snout like a boar, a singular large eye like a cyclops, and instead of hair, he had long, snake-like tentacles.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked.

“Borca.”

“Who? What?”

“He’s the Fomorian giant no one likes to talk about.”

Borca dropped his giant head back and roared. The tentacles around his face spread out and shrieked, creating an eerie harmony that raised every single hair on my body. His giant torso contracted showing lines of corded pectoral muscles and abs that looked like they tried to punch free of his body.

“Uh…How do we kill it?”

“Quickly.” Ryker toed the line that drew up the circle around him. Light shimmered and magic snapped out. Ryker jerked back with a hiss.

I bit my lip and held back the snarky comment threatening to bubble out of my mouth. Now was definitely not the time to verbally spar with Ryker.

Instead, I focused on Borca. The trials so far had been pretty rigged, favoring demons who grew up in the Underworld. I couldn’t even get upset about that, because it made sense. The ruler should know the customs, language, and history of the people or things they ruled.

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