The light slants red across the arena, turning the sand rust red and the walls to a single unbroken wound. The final trial is taking place at dusk. Though adrenaline runs through my veins, weariness weighs on me.
Vann is beside me, his body close enough that our shadows merge and stretch like a single creature across the ground. I watch them, thinking about how it felt to sleep near him. How it felt to sleep with him for what could be the last time.
When Thorne came to take Vann back to his cell, I felt…loss.
Now the chain between us hangs loose but heavy. It’s already started to leave a raw ring of skin around my wrist, another mark, like the tender skin around my neck.
Vann brushes my arm with his, giving me a long, intense look that promises the world. It makes my heart flutter, despite how weak and tired I feel.
When we enter the arena, I peer up at the crowd. I’m not used to the shouting coming from all levels. It drones on, washing over my head and ringing in my ears. They beg—demand—for our blood. For my humiliation.
Arion sits on the Throne of Living Wood high above them all, robed in white and gold, a gleam of jewels coiled around his throat.His crown catches the dying light, and for one unreal moment, he looks carved from sunlight—every inch the supreme leader he believes himself to be.
When he stands, the noise dies.
“Citizens of Shvathemar,” he calls, his voice rolling like silk through smoke. “As I said the first night of these trials, if these two somehow managed to make it out of here alive, I would let them go home. But today is special—the Trial of Blood. You might see a familiar face tonight.”
The reaction from the crowd is charged. Lightning-quick silence skitters over the stands.
He smiles. “You have seen strength. Now witness surrender.”
I glance at Vann. His gaze stays fixed on the sand, his jaw tight. “He’s not letting us walk out,” he murmurs.
“I know.”
He lifts his eyes to mine, and for a breath, I forget the noise, the heat, the waiting death. “Then we go down together.”
It shouldn’t comfort me. But in that moment, we are more than the sum of our parts. Perhaps the face of death makes it easier to forgive and forget what once was. The betrayal that Vann gave me seeps out of my bones, slowly sliding away and disappearing into the sand.
He lied. He hid.
But he also cared for me. Followed me. He has made it clear the lengths he will go to be mine.
Mine. That word sticks in my throat, forming a lump I can’t seem to swallow.
He grows on you, that is for sure, Cursed One comments.
As the horn blares, tears fill my eyes.
We will die together. I am grateful for the world I was able to experience, thankful for the adventures, the opportunities, and the people I was able to know. And then I am sad. The sadness quickly shifts to anger at the life that I will not have. Some of the anger toward Vann returns. What could we have been if we were not here?
And then the gates open.
This time it’s not just beasts. It’s a nightmare parade. I see morewolves, snakes the color of copper, and an ogre so tall the setting sun halos its shoulders. Behind them come armed human men and I gasp. They don’t look like soldiers—they are chained and drugged, pushed into the light like offerings.
“They’re going to make us kill humans.”
My breath comes faster, and blood roars in my ears.
“I don’t know if they are still alive, Firelocks. Just…let me take care of them.”
Vann’s hand brushes mine as the first creature charges. The chain between us jolts taut, and the world shrinks to motion.
Cursed One’s power starts almost instantly. Her strength lends itself to my strength, and I mostly manage to push the creatures off, leaving ample time for Vann to cut them down.
When two wolves come too close, he sweeps his rusting sword in a wide arc, forcing a gap, then pulls me through it by the chain. The crowd screams approval.
The night before didn’t do us any favors. I feel the closeness of his body, every time we are too close. I know the chain is meant to disadvantage Vann, to slow him down and let him die. But somehow, we find it to be a strength.