Page 72 of A Realm of Fire and Ash

The monster takes a swipe at Azazel, and I scream in terror as a contestant rushes me from my other side. It's in its fae form, wielding a large sword.

"When I'm through with you, I'm going to gut your little boyfriends," he sneers. He has a deep voice that is edged with malice, taunting and threatening as he moves closer. The swish of his sword slicing through the air echoes around us, and each step he takes is marked by the rhythmic clanking of his armor. "Might have a taste first."

He is tall and slender, wearing a suit of armor that's stained in patches of old blood. His eyes are narrow slits of gold, his face marred with scars. He bares his teeth when he speaks and draws back his lips to reveal sharp teeth, as though he's chiseled them to points. His sword has an intricate design carved into its steel blade and an emerald stone embedded in its hilt.

"Kill the monkey and you can," I shoot back, my voice dripping with venom.

He throws his head back in a harsh, mocking laugh, the sound a cruel echo that raises the hairs on my arms. "You want me to kill the rampager for your little boy toys? Give up the hunt, give me a taste, and then I'll bring you its head," he grins, the sight of his sharpened teeth almost enough to make me sick.

Rather than voice the string of curses that spring to my lips, I wave him off with a lazy shrug. "Might be worth it," I sigh, my voice dripping with nonchalance.

The fae's aid comes at a price, and I'm willing to pretend he'll earn it. Together, we unleash a blaze of steel, slicing through the creature's flesh. A spray of crimson flies through the air. With a snarl, the beast falls limp in death, and I let out a savage cry as I watch its demise. Mixed with the ash on his skin, Az is covered in its blood.

Az's voice cracks like lightning, "Go home Pantatel, or suffer the consequences."

The fae who helped us snarls in response, eyes narrowed, and a wicked grin painted on his lips. He steps closer and towers over me, waiting for my compliance. "Nah, I think I'll collect my prize now," he drawls. "Get behind the hollow."

Just as I make eye contact with Emeric to tell them to trust me, Pantatel is upon me and his arm clamps around my waist like a steel shackle. His aggression radiates through him. I try to squirm away, but he's too strong.

So I let him take me a few paces away to a dip in the ground, hidden amongst the tree roots.

"Right," he growls, his hot breath tickling my neck. "You made a deal with me, and I intend to collect." He leans closer and presses a kiss against my cheek, his lips lingering for a moment too long.

“But did I?” I grin. He doesn't see the blade I grip in my hand, but he feels it when I slash it across his neck. A spray of hot blood arcs across my face, and his grip slackens. A mix of fury and agony flashes in his eyes before he staggers back, a soft thud as he hits the ground.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Emeric croons from where he's propped against a tree.

A grin tugs at my lips as I watch the kill count dance above Pantatel's body and explode into the sky. "How much longer do we have?" Having died and regenerated, I'm not nearly as tired as Az and Emeric must be.

Az rubs a hand over his face and sighs. "Two more hours."

I climb out of the hole and take in the sight of the two demon fae. They're filthy, covered in a mixture of dirt, blood, ash, and sweat. Heavy bags hang under their eyes, a testament to their fatigue. But even in their exhausted state, I can see the wild determination on their faces—they want me to win this as badly as I do.

I turn to Az with a challenge in my voice. "How many did you have to take down to win the last few times?"

"Forty," Az replies without hesitation, "sixty at the most."

I look down at my count of thirty-eight and sigh. "We need more." I must win this. It's my only chance at going home and freeing Wilder and Az.

Emeric's voice interrupts my thoughts. "What if instead of making your shadow doppelgänger writhe and whine, I make it scream and wail? It'll seem like you're on your death bed, and they'll swoop in to try for an easy kill." He slides away from the tree, landing beside us. "That'll bring more people out here to try and take advantage of you."

Az returns with a thoughtful expression on his face. "That could work."

* * *

The sky roils with thunderclaps,and fat raindrops pummel our skin as we scramble up the giant oak on the other side of the trail. My fingernails scrape and dig footing into its ancient bark, but soon I reach the apex. Through the veil of rain I see them, a pack of eight demon fae, their eyes glinting menacingly as they move along the path. It's a group of contestants who've banded together, their strength multiplied by eight to swarm and take down their kills.

"Now," I whisper.

Emeric gestures, and a ghastly figure bursts out of the woods and into the clearing. It's an exact replica of me, screaming in agony as a glowing hatchet slices through its chest. The howls of its pain draw the demons near, luring them closer and closer to their fate.

I take a deep inhale, notch my arrow, and on the exhale, release it. The arrow lands with a faint thud, piercing through one of the fae's hearts, sending a firework into the sky. Even with the rain pelting down, I can still smell the acrid stench of gunpowder drift our way.

Her friends whip around, searching for the source of the attack. But the idea of getting an easy kill with my shrieking doppelgänger is too good for them to pass up, so instead of hunting us down, they stalk towards my shadow.

With a trembling hand, I furiously nock arrow after arrow, letting each one fly with pinpoint accuracy. Four of the demon fae fall, their blood matting the grass and dirt beneath them before the remaining three vanish into the shadowy depths of the woods.

I look to Az, my breath held in anticipation. He surveys the area before finally nodding in agreement. "They'll come after us if we don't take the fight to them," he growls.

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