“What?” Sergiu spurted. “Father, are you going to let him get away with this?”
Lazar grabbed his son’s arm again, his head jerking with a “shut up” motion.
“Your son is an idiot, Alexandru.” Istvan tucked his arms behind his back, strolling a little closer. “And if he ever took rule over Romania, your country would perish. You should thank me for letting your name go down with you—in honor, instead of embarrassment.”
“You should talk.” Alexandru seethed through his teeth. “Where is your son, Markos?”
Istvan dipped his head. “Yes, I know all too well about having a disappointing son. But unlike you, I do not pretend he is otherwise. Truth is, I no longer need him as a successor.”
Acid formed on my tongue upon hearing his claim. It was true. With the nectar, he would live a fae’s lifetime. He could rule for centuries to come. My stomach turned with thoughts of Caden and how we left him, not knowing if he was alive or dead now.
“Though, in six months, I will have one anyway. A boy.” Istvan went to Olena, touching her belly. “A true son and heir over my realm.”
Oh, gods. Olena was pregnant? Now that I was looking, I could make out a slight bump under her dress.
Olena glowed with a proud smile, her hand over his, rubbing her baby bump with smug glee. She was now permanently tied to Istvan.
If I was doing the math right, it meant she had gotten pregnant around the time of her engagement to Caden. Even back then, Istvan had been contriving and strategizing backup plans, seeding another heir from the woman supposedly marrying his son. He could have declared the child as Caden’s or claimed the baby depending on what happened. Rebeka’s fate also was in flux back then too. He had all of it laid out, ready for multiple outcomes.
Now, Caden had become the spare. The one no longer needed.
“I think you see what I will do to keep the strength of my reign. So, sit back and enjoy the entertainment I had planned for you this evening.” I didn’t even see Istvan’s signal before servants carried out throne-like chairs for him and Olena. More servants came with trays of food and drink, while many guards kept their weapons pressed into Sonya, Alexandru, and Sergiu’s heads, ensuring they knew they were no longer guests, but hostages. Leon’s dead body still lay there as people stepped over him as if he were nothing. A reminder of how fast this game changed and how easily you could be taken out of it.
Istvan and Olena sat down in their seats, Ivanenko perched on a more subdued chair slightly behind them, so he didn’t forget where he stood in this.
“Cheers, my dear.” Istvan clinked glasses with Olena. With refreshments in hand, servants waiting for their orders. The pair looked the epitome of a haughty king and queen, gazing down on their peasants.
“How is the view, darling?” Istvan patted Olena’s hand, the other one on the box Tracker had placed on a table next to him. His gaze stayed down on me. Tracker stood behind his chair. Not quite a prince’s position, but where an elite guard or right-hand man would be. “Are you ready for some fun?”
“More than you know, my love.” She nuzzled into him, staring up at him like a crown was already on his head, herself the queen of all.
“I can imagine you are…” He chuckled almost conspiratorially. “Go ahead. Do the honors.”
“What the fuck?” Warwick muttered, suddenly jerking his head back toward the fighters’ tunnels, his forehead wrinkling, his body stiffening as if he sensed something. Before I could follow his gaze, Olena’s voice sang out like a giddy schoolgirl.
“Guards, bring them out!”
I was starting to think she wasn’t as vapid as she looked. The bitch was conniving and manipulating.
The side gates squealed behind me, where Warwick had his full focus. His forehead creased, twisting me around to follow his gaze.
“Fuck.” I heard Warwick mutter before two figures were shoved out roughly onto the dirt, their bodies hitting with a thud.
Oxygen ripped from my lungs, the ground once again crumbling under my feet.
A woman and a man. Threadbare clothes, dirty and beaten.
“Oh, gods…” My mouth hung open as I watched one look around in utter fear and confusion, while the other seemed to understand what was happening, his brown eyes looking straight at Warwick, his forehead wrinkling in a mirror of confusion before his gaze jumped to me.
“Caden,” I muttered in shock, my gaze jumping to the woman next to him. “Rebeka.”
“Let the Games begin!” Olena’s voice cheered out.
Chapter 25
“Rebeka!” Nora’s cry for her friend rang across the arena, jerking Rebeka’s head. Her mouth dropped at seeing her oldest friend approaching her wearing a prison outfit.
“Nora?” Rebeka’s voice cracked as she got to her feet. Rebeka had always been trim, but now she was emaciated. Her silky hair was dirty and knotted, her beautiful face cut up and bruised. A far cry from the regal woman I grew up with in designer clothing, expensive perfumes, who held a queen-like demeanor.
“You’re alive.” Nora clutched her arms, her head shaking before she hugged her friend.
“Wha-what are you doing here?” Rebeka’s question was drowned out by a loud clatter, the sound of a machine cranking.
“Oh shit,” I muttered, knowing that resonance as if it was embedded into my nightmares. My attention snapped to the floor of the pit. Cages were quickly rising from below, shrieking noises and howls coming from them, making me positive they were filled with wild animals again.
The cages clicked in as they became level with the ground, shapes moving quickly and frantically, their cries growing louder and more piercing.
“Same as last time?” Scorpion’s shadow stood between Warwick and me, though he was across the pit from us.
“Yes…” My response tapered off as I made out what was inside the pens. Everything changed. My plans, my thoughts—they sunk to the bottom, drowning in the abyss.
“Oh, my gods.” Terror cracked through my system.
“What are those?” Ash’s shock stepped him back.
“Holy. Fuck.” Warwick uttered.
Wild. Feral.
But it wasn’t animals inside.
It was all the old guards. The ones I knew from HDF who had taken Istvan’s first dose of pills.
My attention was locked on the men. Or what used to be men. All of them now acted more like rabid animals. I had noticed the decline before, feared they would take on whatever fae essence they were given.
My deepest nightmare had come to fruition.
The doors to the cages swung open with a clank. The figures inside instantly scrambled out. Low to the ground and ready to attack, they still had enough human in them they didn’t go down on all fours.
Joska was the first out, getting himself in front. The already large guy puffed his chest, beating on it as a gorilla would, rallying the dozens of beast-like men behind him.
He was the alpha.
“Joska?” Caden wheezed, taking in his old classmate. Then his gaze went to Samu, not too far behind. “Samu?”
Joska’s and Samu’s heads snapped to Caden, a sneer hitching on their lips, responding to their names.
They understood him.