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I glance at my father, who remains oblivious to my interference. The paranoia gnaws at me, the fear of being caught growing heavier with every use of my powers.
Sebastian, now holding the severed arm of the demon, whips it up and smacks the troll in the face with the dead hand. It’s an odd sight, but effective—enough to make the troll pause so he rolls enough to get ahold of the ax.
Come on, Sebastian…
Facing the troll once more, he draws the ax to him, but the troll is faster. Its hands wrap around Sebastian’s throat and yank him up. His feet dangle in the air as he thrashes, his shadows trying to hold him up. His darkness is practically useless against the creature.
I prepare myself for whatever comes next. Forcing my nerves to calm, but that’s easier said than done when our lives are on the line. One misstep, one slip of focus, could lead to disaster. I can see the desperation in Sebastian’s eyes as he tries to hang on to the ax in his hand.
As if sensing my inner turmoil, Sebastian’s eyes lock onto mine for a brief moment, determination flaring within them. With a subtle flick of my wrist, I use my gift to loosen the troll’s grip just enough for Sebastian to swing the ax, using his shadows to propel it forward.
With a swift motion, Sebastian’s ax drives deep into the troll’s thick neck. Black blood sprays as the creature crumbles to the ground.
The bell tolls.
He won.
My cheeks burn, trying to hide the smile that threatens to split my face. There’s a chance for me. A chance at life. A chance at love. A family. A chance at adventure and to see the world…
Bodies litter the ground, blood seeping into the sand. Amid this carnage stands Sebastian, the last man standing. His breaths are heavy as he gets to his feet and holds up his ax. Sweat and blood coat his skin, his wounded shoulder still dripping.
Despite the chaos surrounding him, there’s something undeniably attractive about his disheveled appearance. He bows sarcastically to the crowd and my father, and I can’t help but smile. Even with the disguise gone, he’s still the same sarcastic man I danced with, and it fills me full of hope.
Silence blankets the crowd as the royal mages line up along the cliffside, and work to replace the stone-slabbed stairs. Sebastian glances toward the far side of the cliff, where an orc man sits. Is that his friend? Did he wear a disguise too? When the man's fist pumps the air, I get my answer.
The crowd goes silent as Sebastian climbs up the stairs, the tension in the air palpable. One of the mages at the top hands him his sword, and he discards the ax he used during the gauntlet.
My gaze follows him, unable to tear my eyes away. He runs his ringed-clad fingers through his sweaty hair, and a sudden panic grips me, remembering what comes next.
“Come,” my father says, nudging me from my seat. “The spell will last until the next nightfall. After that, assuming your heart is still beating, you’ll have to figure out how to hide it.”
My mark… he’s talking about my witch mark. The curse my mother placed on me. It’s intended to mark mages that use sacrificial magic—blood witches—and glows to warn others when they use their gifts.
I’m of mage blood, but I’m not a blood witch. My mother thought marking me as an infant would keep my father from offering me up in his gauntlets. Obviously, her plan didn’t work. I’ve had to hide it my entire life, but I can’t help but feel like hiding it is about to get a lot harder.
Sebastian smirks at me, locking his gaze with mine as he crosses the bridge with long, sure strides. The creatures crowded on it split to either side, making a path for him.
I shouldn’t want him, yet part of me is intrigued… It’s entranced with the aura that surrounds him and craves to bask in it. I barely know the man, yet he’s convinced me to break my father’s rules for him, and all it took is one conversation.
My father’s hand presses to my back and I feel the warmth of it through the lace of my dress. He leads me over the bridge, meeting Sebastian in the middle. Not once does his gaze leave me.
My father lifts the crystals in his hand as we stop, and when he speaks, his voice projects across the cliffs, enhanced by magic. “The Dark One has won!”
A wave of unease ripples through the crowd. If they knew who he was before the gauntlet, they must be terrified now that they’ve seen him fight.
Sebastian drives the tip of his sword into the bridge just a couple of feet away from my father’s feet. He bows respectfully, but his gaze is still on me. At this moment, I can’t deny his rugged beauty.
“Your Majesty,” he says, but my father doesn’t so much as look at him.
“You have some gall showing your face in my kingdom. Had it been in any other way, your head would be decorating the cliffside pikes.” He breathes out deeply, crossing his hands in front of his body. “I only hope it means you’ll start leaving my fucking ships alone.”
Sebastian snorts, glancing at my father with a smug grin playing on his lips. “I won fair and square, Your Majesty. I’ll accept a ten-year truce in exchange for my ten years of riches.” His green eyes shift back to me, his smirk turning suggestive. “I’ll claim my prize now.” And heat floods my cheeks.
8
Scarlet
Thepriestesssplitsthecrowd, her crystal headdress standing out amongst the sea of my father’s subjects. The light from the moons above shines brightly, reflecting off the patches of her silver scales, and scatters along the ground. Her body takes a humanoid shape, but she’s lived long enough to witness our empire rise from the ashes of the great fall. The king smiles, revealing every blade-like tooth in his mouth as she nears.
