by Vi Voxley
God, it felt good not to try to be deaf to her own thoughts.
She very nearly lunged into his arms and he very nearly caught her. They stopped inches away, staring at each other. Violet thought she might not get a single word over her lips.
Speak! she ordered herself. Talk! Let him know! Live!
She didn’t know what she should say. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to stay, or I’m sorry I told you not to come back or I promise I won’t mention the Raider Prince ever again if you just still want me...
She settled for a breathless, “I want you.”
Something changed in Areon’s being. Violet couldn’t put her finger on it, but some tension physically left the room. For a moment she felt as if all danger went out the door and she was safe with him. Then she started worrying about Grom and the others again. And the Prince! Somewhere, the Raider Prince still lurked, the famous mercenary who had his eye on her. She choked on her next words.
Areon shook his head, smiling. Was it just her or was his smile kinder than it had been before? It reminded her of the days they’d spent together. She liked that smile.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Everything is fine now.”
“No it isn’t,” the words burst forth from Violet. “There is another trial! And then the duels, maybe, I don’t know. Grom and Reim. And the Prince is somewhere. And my father doesn’t like you. How is everything fine?”
Her champion smiled even wider. Areon lifted his hand and moved to touch her. Violet backed away, startled.
“You can’t,” she said.
“I already did once,” he reminded her. “Nothing I can do to make it worse.”
“I’m not yours yet,” Violet protested, but it sounded feeble even to her. Her body wasn’t making any more steps to move away. Areon’s smile made her shudder from head to toe.
“You’re mine,” he said, quietly and forcefully, and Violet could have sworn her knees buckled before him. “You’ve always been mine. Everything else is just things that will happen.”
“How do you think you will survive my father’s trials?” she asked, upset that he wasn’t taking it as seriously as she was. “You survived the gnaour by accident. The Overlord doesn’t like it when someone makes a fool out of him. If he said no luck, there will be no luck.”
Areon took a step further and Violet backed away. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t! And if she was, it was the most delicious kind of fear she’d ever tasted. She swallowed, seeing his eyes flash, a fire for her burning within them.
Her heart beat even faster. God, that man could have put her to her knees with his eyes alone.
“Tell me,” he said, low and dangerous. The voice she’d heard once before. Her world shaking apart from its hinges had apparently been nothing compared to this. Even her soul longed for him. Who was that man? Violet felt her double vision coming together slowly. “Do you think I got so far by luck?”
“Grom helped,” she offered. “And you took all the antidotes, which was really lucky. And…”
He was smiling again. Smirking, really – a small, amused smirk at the corner of his lips. Maybe it was because he’d usually laughed when around her, but Violet had never seen that smirk before. It was seductive in a way she didn’t dare to think about. She was a calaya, no man was supposed to touch her before her victor, but what if it was her body that so desperately wanted to touch his? She backed away another step. The warrior – Areon? Really? – followed her. No clumsiness, perfect posture, a born warrior.
Violet shivered again.
“Grom,” said Areon. “Hah. He’s a force of nature, I’ll give him that. And yes, I let him help.”
“You let him? Areon, please,” Violet said. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to die.”
“I will not die.”
“Then stop joking,” she pleaded. “Take this seriously. My father has something in store for the Prince, I know it. I don’t want you to get caught in it.”
A chuckle. “I’m sure the Prince can handle himself. Tell me, Violet, what changed your mind? I thought it was him you wanted. I remember you telling me. I remember you telling me yesterday you didn’t want me to win.”
Violet noticed there was something incredibly dangerous in his voice when he said him. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for that. The Prince’s name – his title – hung between them no matter what she did.
“I,” she began, “I don’t know.”
Areon’s posture, for a moment, was so feral she backed away one more step. Somewhere behind her, the room ended, in a step or two she’d hit the wall.
“I know it’s you I want,” she hastened to add. “I just don’t know what changed. We were talking, me and the other calayas, and I had been watching Maige the whole time, the way she only had Ronay in mind, no one else. I realized I had only watched you, that I only cared if you win. I forgot about the Prince, I forgot about everyone else. I just prayed that you’d have your luck with you.”
Areon’s gaze was burning. He looked at her with his dark flashing eyes, holding her at his grasp, the smirk making him look predatory and oh-so-deliciously dangerous. Violet had no idea who that man was. It was still Areon, underneath it all, but he was also like everything she’d always dreamed he would be.
A girl wasn’t supposed to be given everything she wanted all at once. It was a wonder any sentences formed in her mind at all, she was so caught up in staring at him. She’d made the right choice. She’d made the only choice.
She told him that, too.
Following with: “So fight for real now, no longer relying on your luck – it can’t last forever.”
That, for some reason, seemed to amuse Areon. “Alright,” he promised, with that same deep sexy voice that made Violet shiver. “I will fight for real.”
“Win me,” Violet told him.
“That was always the plan.”
He took another step closer and Violet found herself pressed against the wall with nowhere left to retreat. His eyes looked at her hungrily, sliding over her inch by inch. She could practically feel his gaze caressing her skin.
The thought of someone denying her him was suddenly no longer undesirable – it had become unbearable.
“Areon, you can’t,” she said, when he moved closer again. There seemed to be no air between them. No air anywhere. It was ripped from her lungs by the look in his eyes – those deep, bottomless pits of gray with lust just as deep and bottomless in them, lust and power. Violet felt like she was dreaming, if not for the strong, hot body so close. Areon had to have felt her shake in anticipation. Her voice was definitely shaking too.
“Didn’t I tell you?” he asked, sultry and deep. “You,” he said, his lips so close to hers she felt his hot breath, “are mine.”
Every last inch of her wanted to give in, to throw herself into his arms, to let him take her. Just that once, because she still couldn’t make herself truly believe he could win. She just hoped, though the hope was all she dared give him.
There was something new and bestial about him, but she didn’t know if it would be enough against Grom or the Prince or whatever it was that her father had in mind for the next trial.
She couldn’t believe the words were coming out of her mouth, but there they were. “You have to wait,” she said. “After.”
Areon laughed, sending sparks of pleasure running down her spine. It tickled her lips, but he didn’t move any closer. Instead, he sighed.
“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to,” he said, “but as you wish.”
Somehow, Violet believed him. It was hard to argue with that voice. It did wonderful things to her, made her body sing to hear it. She couldn’t begin to guess if Areon knew the full extent of his effect on her, but she had never been that wet in her life. Her panties were soaked between her thighs. Honestly, Violet couldn’t be sure if she wouldn’t come from his voice alone.
God, help him. I want him. I have never wanted anything more in my life.
She
wanted more, more of him, more of his closeness and his body against hers, more of his scent, undeniably masculine and maddening, but she had to go. If she was late again, they might not look too kindly upon it. She didn’t want any negative attention on them now. The Overlord didn’t like Areon, but surely he’d see things differently once he knew she wanted him?
Areon watched her go. “Violet,” he called to her. “I’m glad your heart lies with me.”
Violet smiled. “Take it seriously,” she reminded him and hurried back to the arena, his laughter echoing after her.
***
The other calayas were back already. Maige looked happier. It gladdened Violet to see her happy as well.
“Did you see him?” she asked.
Maige nodded. “Yes,” she admitted. “They didn’t want to let me in, but I managed to convince them. God it took me everything I had not to touch him, not to kiss him.”
Violet sympathized.
“How does he feel?”
“With the antidotes, better. He was spared the worst of it, after all. He’s ready,” Maige said, sighing, “to keep fighting. Not much now, not many left.”
That much was true. Violet had heard some had even quit. She didn’t blame them. The gnaour were a horror directly out of nightmares. At the beginning of the tournament, people had bet on what the Overlord might have prepared for the champions, but by that point, they’d stopped guessing – they just waited.
“Did he tell you who the Prince was?” Pearl asked.
For some reason, Halley was looking at her oddly, but Violet was too curious herself. Maybe she could help Areon somehow if she knew who the Prince was.
“No,” Maige said, to her disappointment. “But he did say we had to prepare for a big surprise.”
“Maybe he really is in the audience then,” Lavie said.
“No,” Halley said. “He’s on the arena.”
“You know?” Violet said, stunned. “Tell us then!”
Halley laughed. “What, and spoil all the fun for you? No. How did your meeting go, Violet?”
Her lips curled into a smile at the mere thought of Areon. “Good,” she sighed. “I told him to try to fight for me. I hope he does. God I hope he does.”
Halley grinned, but Violet didn’t have time to ask her what her problem was. The great gong sounded to call the champions back to the arena. Violet couldn’t understand how they could have cleaned all the blood and corpses away so fast, but she realized they hadn’t. The arena ground was closer to them now. It was simply another floor over the chasm, and over the previous arena. Once again, it held nothing.
This time, there was no ledge. Everyone who wanted to quit had already, and there was no shame in that. With both the quitters and the dead, there was a mere twenty left – a usual number for that stage of the tournament, but not with such a death toll in its wake.
Violet forced herself to be strong. Beside her, Maige’s smile had faded too. With lesser numbers, the chances of a duel stage coming up were growing high. It was traditional in a tournament to match the champions against one another at least once, sometimes more. There were times when there were only duels. Neither of them wanted to see their favorites matched with Grom. Or Reim. Or each other, God forbid.
Or the Prince.
Violet wondered what the Prince was going to do when she gave her favor to Areon. Would he target him? Would the Overlord let him? Concern took her heart in an icy grip. It sounded very much like her father to let two of the competitors he liked the least to battle it out between them.
She took a deep breath. She was a calaya, bound to accept whatever fate brought her. At least now she had the courage to hope for someone.
When the time to give their favors arrived, Maige had a smile for Ronay. Her voice shook, but she did it. She put her heart out there, hoping to get it back in one piece, together with the one she loved. And then to the overall surprise, Violet stepped up and gave her favor to Areon. He smiled, every set of eyes on him.
The Overlord didn’t seem too happy, but Violet received an encouraging smile from her mother. It made her feel slightly better. Until the Overlord spoke again.
“Time for our third trial,” he said. “Time to end this charade and the reign of the Raider Prince.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After the talk with Violet, Areon was still in a whole other world when Reim found him. He had that habit too, raining in on him with the real world when he had no wish to take part in it.
“He’s out to get you,” Reim said without greeting or any other form of hey, you’re still alive.
“You’re going to have to be a lot more specific,” Areon said. “Practically everyone is. Who did you mean in particular?”
Reim grinned. “That’s true,” he admitted, “but I meant the Overlord.”
“Oh, him. Let him try.”
“I think he’s going to really come after you now. Didn’t I bloody warn you that it wasn’t a good idea to provoke him? Not that Sarto wasn’t funny...”
“Have a little faith.”
Reim glared at him, as he was often wont to do. “You know I have faith in you. I just sometimes dearly wish you’d have any sense at all.”
“Your concern is noted,” said Areon. “What else?”
His second-in-command pouted, but shrugged. “Well, as you said... they are speculating hard. Not many of us left.”
“Speaking of that, how’s Marelle?”
“Marelle is fine, as you well know.”
“Hoping for her favor?”
“I’m hoping she doesn’t hate my guts when I pick her. Focus, Areon.”
“You sound like Violet.”
Now Reim laughed, but the good news did seem to cheer him up as well. “So that much at least is right,” he said. “Good to hear. Why did she change her mind then?”
“Apparently it’s true love.”
“Oh, really? That poor girl.”
“I know. I almost feel bad for her myself.”
“You still didn’t tell her, huh?”
“The topic didn’t come up. The right moment passed. Pick one.”
“I think she’ll find out soon enough,” Reim said. “You almost betrayed yourself with the gnaour. Ronay saved your ass.”
“I know. And what was I to do? That thing was going to swallow me whole.”
Reim looked like he was about to answer with something witty, but his concern was stronger than his desire to jest – how adorable. “I still want you to look out for Grom,” he said.
“I heard you the first time,” Areon replied, tiredly. They had been walking back to the practice areas and were soon in the hearing range of the others.
“Judging by the way you act, you almost never listen to anything I say.”
“Life would be so boring if I did.”
“Grom,” Reim said, a warning in his voice.
“God, man, I heard –”
“No. Grom.”
The champion was coming straight at them. Reim left without another word, as was their way. Battles were ahead and possible death too, but they always made a point of getting everything out in the open, so there would be no regrets later.
Grom watched Reim go, stomping on until Areon found himself face to face with the man.
God, he truly was monstrous. Who knew they made them so big these days? Areon had to crane his neck back a bit to look Grom in the eye. He hadn’t looked so immense at the arena, but then again he had had the high ground of sitting on top of a gnaour. Being in danger apparently made people seem smaller.
Areon considered Reim’s words and being cautious – as he often did – and decided against it, as usual.
“Future fief lord,” he greeted the champion.
Grom humphed in response. “What did the Raider want with you?”
“To know if the Prince warned me about the gnaour too,” Areon shrugged.
“Wouldn’t he know already?” Grom asked suspiciously. Not as gullible as he’d thought
…
“Apparently the Prince doesn’t feel the need to share everything he does.”
“And did he? Warn you too?”
“No,” Areon said. “God I wish he had. My stomach wouldn’t be trying to turn itself inside out.”
Unlike many others, Grom didn’t find him funny in the least. There was suddenly something very dark about the champion’s presence. On the arena, Areon had felt that Grom appreciated him; not liked him – that was a bit too much to ask from the likes of Grom – but he’d tolerated him. Something had changed while he had been gone, new information had made the cogs in the champion’s mind roll again, and this time not in Areon’s favor.
“But he helped Ronay. I wonder why.”
Areon felt himself stepping away from solid ground and on to treacherous territories. “I agree with Ronay, sentiment, or something. If he doesn’t have an eye on Maige, he might just as well help the guy.”
Grom nodded. Without warning, his deep, sharp eyes bore into Areon.
“I agree,” he said. “But then you were there too, tackling a gnaour for him. An old friend of yours?”
Oh. And I thought you’d forgotten about that. That one time I need everyone to not pay attention to me and of course that’s when they do. My luck.
“Never met him before,” Areon said cheerfully. “I thought we had some kind of an alliance on the arena, but I might have taken it a bit too seriously.”
“You might have,” Grom said, looming over him all at once. “I’m starting to think you didn’t need my help half as much as you made me believe. Some trick,” he snarled viciously then, “to put me in the line of danger instead of you. Letting me take the lead for you and then going on that wild ride. It’s quite a thing to hold on to a trampling gnaour.”
“It was that or dying,” Areon replied, but he no longer bothered with the cheeriness in his voice. Grom was on to him, or suspected he was, at least. His charade was coming to an end.
The champion huffed. “Don’t give me that crap,” he said. “There is a difference between finding inner reserves of strength when staring death in the eye and that. I’ve seen men fight gnaour before. Trust me, I know.”
