by Vi Voxley
He and Reim had developed the whistle system long ago, for situations quite like this – they’d set up a simple language of whistles for times when speaking was ill-advised. Naturally, it wasn’t a precise science and left much for interpretation, but they’d fought side by side for years. There was always the risk they’d misunderstand each other and it had happened in the past with some funny and not so funny results. Catching Grom’s first blow with his sword and feeling the impact resonate down his arm, Areon hoped that that moment wouldn’t be one of those times.
It wasn’t. Thank his lucky stars!
He grinned. It seemed luck insisted on staying on his side that day.
Reim’s sword landed a foot away from them, a perfect throw if there ever was one. After all, Areon hadn’t chosen his second-in-command for his sharp tongue and sense of humor, although they helped. Before Grom realized there was suddenly another blade on the arena, Areon twisted himself free, sending Grom stumbling back for the slightest of moments, but that was all he needed. He took the short sword into his weaker left hand and Reim’s sword into his right.
It reminded him of the poor sod he’d killed in the maze before. The warrior hadn’t been weak, of course, but the two-handed great sword had been too much for him to properly balance.
The Raider Prince was calaya-marked. He could easily hold the blade in just one hand.
Better, he thought, a sword in each hand. Now let’s fight for real, on equal terms.
Grom seemed to realize as much and slowed down. They moved back to the center of the arena with a mutual understanding that sometimes occurs between two mortal enemies. The Overlord had tried hard to make the fight unfair, but they would do it their own way.
The Prince was a mercenary, Grom’s honor mattered little to him. But this tournament had been on his mind for three years. He had no intention of winning it with luck. No, he’d take Grom for his trophy.
No doubt the champion felt the same about him.
His pride aside, there was a much deeper reason Areon wanted to take the fight seriously. It was a battle for Violet as well as the title. Losing was not an option. He longed to look at her, but her cute little body would only have distracted him. Soon he’d look at her all he wanted. And Grom would never see anything ever again.
The champion charged and Areon dodged the furious blow of the club. He’d stopped it once out of necessity, but it still rung in his hands. The weapon in Grom’s grip was no wooden tool that would break if he hit it hard enough. It was a long, heavy morning star. One direct hit and Areon doubted if he’d rise from the ground again. He heard the audience gasp every time Grom’s swing missed him. The champion was driving him back by twirling the morning star in his hands with such speed that Areon felt the air move with it. For every one of Grom’s swings, Areon delivered a blow with Reim’s sword in return. Grom blocked them with the shield, and so they kept spinning around each other.
It was really a duel, a match of equals. He just needed to take it slow and –
“The calaya is watching,” Grom said. Areon didn’t need to ask who he meant.
“Of course she is,” he grinned back, but something dark was taking hold of him. He wondered if Grom was trying to rile him up on purpose. That would have been a fitting end – judge everyone else by their temper and then lose control himself. But it was Violet. That monster was talking about Violet.
“She is watching you now, sure,” Grom went on.
Areon knew he wasn’t paying the morning star the attention it deserved, but Grom was getting to him. Just mentioning Violet was enough. The words the champion had spoken before came back, and so did the rage.
“It will be a pleasure to slay you before her eyes. It won’t be long until she’ll only be looking at me. Imagine that. Those big pretty eyes of hers, staring at me in bed. Legs spread wide like a good girl, her tight cunt wet for me. I bet it will taste good.”
The taunt was spoken in a low, mocking tone. It wasn’t for the audience to hear – just Areon. The Overlord wouldn’t look too kindly upon such imagery and Grom wasn’t one to get on their host’s bad side for fun. No, it was just meant for him.
So, why was it working? Areon knew he couldn’t let it affect him. He knew what he had to do. Keep out of the morning star’s range and wait for his moment.
Except, he only saw red, crimson blood red.
It felt like Grom was defiling Violet simply by imagining her. He didn’t realize he’d thrown caution to the wind before they were already locked together, faces inches from each other. Areon could see the triumph twinkling in Grom’s eyes as his control slipped.
He’d been holding Grom’s morning star off with both swords, the club being impossible to stop with just one. The pressure was immense, intent on coming down and smashing his chest to pieces. Areon pushed the champion away, placing himself in harm’s way on purpose. The fight that followed was brutal. Grom took the bait, swinging the morning star at his head. He only barely stopped it, but it nearly cost him his grip on the sword. They traded blows so fast they almost became a blur.
Areon’s swords cut bloody gashes on Grom’s chest and arms, while the morning star made his bones shake with every near-fatal blow. One especially lucky hit knocked the air from his lungs, but he kept on applying the pressure. The cost was great, but Grom’s control was slipping too. He stopped parrying as much and struck more, using the shield less and less. Areon was unsure what would be left of his internal organs were the fight to go on much further. He had to act fast.
He slipped close enough to be in dangerous range again. Blood coated them both, flowing from countless wounds. Areon had no idea how he’d managed to avoid a direct hit from the club, but it couldn’t have been far off. He gave Grom an opening for such a blow.
Grom took the bait again, coming in for the final blow, but the Prince’s speed was beyond both the champion’s and his morning star’s. Areon bent out of the way, nearly falling backwards. The club’s momentum kept Grom’s hand pinned for a heartbeat, but that’s all the time the short sword needed to fly. It pierced the air and lodged into Grom’s right eye.
The crowd roared and so did Grom. Areon heard neither. He followed the limping, retreating champion. The man really was a fighter, wasn’t he? He still raised the morning star in his defense, but his depth perception was understandably off. Areon kicked the club away like a mere toy and cut a deep gash across Grom’s chest. The champion fell, the sword still in his eye. His will to live was amazing. Too bad it wouldn’t do him any good.
He stood above Grom, breathing heavily. His injuries had been there for two days; he’d just ignored them as long as necessary. The pain was worth it, however. The way Grom’s eye burned with loathing was a victory all on its own. Pressing his boot against the wound on the champion’s chest, he pushed down. Grom’s only response was a broken gargle.
“You will not see her,” the Raider Prince said quietly. “You will no longer see anything. You will not taste her. The only thing you will taste is death.”
He placed Reim’s sword between Grom’s teeth, taking horrible joy in the way the champion’s eyes went wide. Then he pressed down, agonizingly slowly. Blood gushed over Grom’s lips as he thrashed, but strength had left him and the morning star didn’t rise from the ground. Areon watched the Overlord as the champion died, but while the host’s face was bitter, he didn’t seem to mourn Grom much. The audience certainly didn’t, and the calayas were clapping. In the end, Areon wasn’t even entirely sure whether it had been the blood loss that had killed Grom or whether he had choked on his own blood.
All he knew was that it was over. He’d won. Violet was his.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Violet’s world was putting on a brave attempt to make her dizzy. Everything seemed to be spinning and her lips couldn’t stop smiling. All that didn’t even take into account her heart, which had either stopped or was pounding so hard she could barely make it out.
Areon had won. The Raider Prince
had won. She had both the man she’d loved for years and the famous mercenary she’d wanted. There had to be a catch somewhere. Well, there was, but while the audience was still in the middle of a thunderous applause, Violet didn’t care. They’d deal with the Overlord later. They! She was going to be a they.
Unless... the nagging doubt in her mind started, but she pushed it away. There was no way that Areon would pick someone else. She was his, there was no question.
The look in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine, making her shake in the sweetest kind of way. The Prince’s eyes were fixed on her, the look in them hungry and promising.
Violet had to control herself, but it was difficult. Down on the arena, the tournament still went on, but for her it was over. Areon would no longer be touched, he’d won. Now all she had to do was wait, but it was killing her. The conversation they’d had suddenly felt unfinished. The way he’d been so close to her as to almost touch... She bit her lip.
The Overlord was letting the maze sink back into the ground, revealing that the battle for the grand title had been fitting. Violet wondered if he and Rumeon had kept the number fair on purpose. There were only seven left – one for each of them. Those were their victors. And both Reim and Ronay were still standing, walking over to congratulate Areon.
Beside her, the other calayas were finally allowing themselves some true emotions – along with Maige, who had been showing emotions all along. Right then, she was crying, but the smile on her lips was the happiest Violet had ever seen on her. If anything, she was shaking in anticipation almost as hard as Maige was. The others were clapping along with them, looking like they were taking their first breaths in days. And they were excited, oh so excited. That was the moment. They’d learn of their victors and start their lives with them.
The Overlord congratulated the Prince on his victory, although the words were clearly forced. He then extended the praise to the other survivors as well, ordering a round of short duels to establish their final rankings. Those duels were luckily not to the death and ended quickly. The champions were allowed to clean themselves of the blood, while the calayas grew more silent. The moment of elation had passed. Grom had been taken from them, which made none of them sad.
Finally faced with the decision that would rule the rest of their lives, no one could hold back hope. No amount of self-control could stop any of them from wishing that their favorite would be their champion. Even Violet shook in her shoes. She’d driven Areon away and she’d treated him badly on the first day as well. She’d humiliated him by asking the Overlord to stop him from entering the tournament.
Who knew, he might have decided to choose someone nicer, like Halley? Or Olive?
“You’ve fought bravely,” the Overlord said when the champions returned. “You’ve done everything I asked of you and you’ve proven yourselves worthy of calaya brides.”
To Violet’s surprise, he actually sounded sincere. Against hope, she dared to dream that the Overlord had accepted his defeat in this matter.
“Now it’s time for you to choose your bride,” the Overlord said. “Our grand champion first. The Raider Prince.”
Violet willed herself not to look too scared, but in truth, she was petrified. The fact that her fears weren’t the same as before showed how much she’d grown in the last few days. When the tournament began, her biggest fear had been being picked last – which meant not being picked at all, really. Now her greatest fear was living without Areon.
The Prince smiled, standing on the arena with the other champions, raising his voice to be heard by everyone. “I’ve thought a lot of what I would say to you on the day I won the right to your hand,” he said. “All those years I spent away from you I only thought of two things. How to better myself and what I would say in this moment. There were quite a few funny jokes, if I say so myself. But now that I’m here –”
Violet felt the smile freeze on her lips. That was it. She was going to lose him, or at least the stupid girl she had been was going to.
“I think that there have been plenty of lies and tricks,” the Raider Prince said, “so I will tell the truth. I choose you, Violet. I am yours. My ship is yours and my Raiders are yours. Everything I have is yours.”
Violet could only nod. She didn’t trust her voice at that moment. Not when life was flashing before her eyes. Not when she wasn’t sure if she would have picked herself. Nodding seemed safe enough. The Prince wouldn’t have heard her anyway with the audience applauding so loud the arena itself seemed to shake. As much as she could tell from Areon’s smile, the nod had managed to convey her feelings.
Reim was next. Through the daze of her happiness, Violet felt the girls around her tense up. Some were tense from hope and Maige from the last tinge of fear. Ronay was to follow, the spear gripped in his hands so tightly that Violet thought he might break it in two.
The second-in-command of the Raiders gave them a bright smile from under his curly hair. He truly was a handsome man with an easy stance and tall frame. His smile was kind but seemed cruel in its own way. There was just one of him, after all.
“I’m not as eloquent as my Prince, I’m afraid,” he said to the general amusement. Even Areon grinned, although Violet didn’t miss the fact that the Prince’s eyes hadn’t left her for a second. “Nor did I come here with a single goal like some of my rivals did. I tried to focus on staying alive, so forgive me if I misread the signs. But I hope you’ll not be too unhappy with me, Marelle.”
Violet heard Maige exhale, while her sister’s gasp made her smile grow even wider. Marelle had always been the clever one of them, never one to struggle for an answer. At that moment, it took two tries for her to breathlessly say, “No. Not unhappy at all.”
Reim chuckled. “Good,” he said. “I apologize in advance for the presence of the Prince in our lives.”
Marelle seemed too dazed to be bothered by that, or maybe she wasn’t.
“I’ll live, I think,” she said.
Reim nodded and stepped back, letting Ronay take his place in front of the champions. The arena exploded with applause, even Violet found herself clapping. Stories of true love were always the audience’s favorite.
Ronay had struck her as quiet and reserved, but at that moment he was nearly shaking. Violet put it down to not truly believing it was over, that he’d done it.
It seemed as though he too had something to say, but in the end he just managed a single word, “Maige.”
That was enough. Both for the calaya and the audience, who welcomed the happy conclusion with another round of roaring applause.
Violet heard the rest of the ceremony through a daze, only registering the cheering that followed each choosing. A part of her wondered if all of them were happy with the choices, or if they would be in the future. Her eyes kept returning to Areon, standing on the arena that had tried so hard to kill him. His words kept playing in her mind. She wanted to say them back, wanted to say a lot of things. More than anything, she just wanted to be in his arms at last. Three years was too long of a time to wait. Right there, three minutes seemed too long of a time.
Finally, the tournament was done. The Overlord announced that it was over and they could finally head down from their dais to meet their champions.
They let Maige storm through the great walkway separating the side rooms from the stage under the arena. All of them felt she deserved it most. It seemed the champions thought the same because Ronay dashed to meet her ahead of everyone else. Still, three feet away from him, Maige practically jumped and Ronay caught her in his arms at last. If Violet hadn’t known better, she would have thought they’d literally melted together in their first kiss.
She didn’t stay to watch, however. She wanted her own.
Violet had dreamed of what her first kiss would be like, but she’d been far off. Areon swept her off her feet, pulling her to her tiptoes and into his arms, catching her lips in a kiss. Whatever Violet had thought kissing would be like, it smashed those images to pieces. The Pr
ince’s hands kept her firmly in his perfect embrace, but the kiss was soft against her lips. Soft, but demanding and deep, his tongue catching hers in a fiery dance that left her tingling down to her toes. He drank from her mouth, deepening the kiss. It became so forceful it nearly hurt, but Violet found herself pressing her body against him with every ounce of strength she had. She wanted to get lost in that kiss, to feel the Prince’s mouth nip softly at hers every time they broke for air.
With the first wave of desire resolved, she drew back a bit, like all of the calayas did. They’d tasted the first of many kisses, but something as intimate as that demanded more privacy. Violet wanted nothing more than to be away, alone somewhere with Areon, getting to know what it was to be really touched by him.
Areon’s eyes shone like stars when he looked at her, an image she knew was mirrored in hers. His hands around her were firm and solid, keeping her safely wrapped in his entire being. He smelled like water with a hint of blood and sweat, but all of it together was undeniably masculine. Despite her need for solitude, Violet found herself completely unwilling to ever move, but the Prince had other plans.
Placing a final soft kiss on her lips, he pulled away. When Violet began to protest, he smiled that secretive, maddening smirk of his.
“Don’t think for a second I don’t want to hold you forever,” he said. “I will prove to you I do soon enough, but right now I think we need to go. The tournament is not over.”
Violet looked at him, confused. Around them, the champions were preparing to leave with their new brides, to get to know each other at last. Violet couldn’t tell if all of them were with the one they liked most, but none of them seemed unhappy. It was very difficult to be sad at that moment. This was the tournament’s natural finale. She told Areon as much, but the Prince only smiled.
“Officially, yes,” he allowed. “But don’t tell me you think the Overlord is done with me.”
Violet didn’t. It must have shown too, because the Prince chuckled. “I thought as much,” he said.
