“You are a lamb. You should carry a weapon, Aria,” Zyion hissed, and the rebuke in his tone rubbed me raw.
“I may have been once, but that was long ago. I was forced to become a lion, and predators don’t need weapons when they are one.”
Aden lunged with his blade drawn, swinging on Zyion with hard, quick blows. Zyion deflected and guarded against each strike. Far sooner than I expected, Aden became winded, and that was when Zyion moved, advancing on Aden with hard, bone-jarring hits. Aden’s lack of blade skills and training were apparent when compared to Zyion’s. Anger fueled Aden’s fight. Emotions held no place in a sword fight—or any fight, for that matter. Emotions made you sloppy, and careless warriors often ended up dead. The moment they began, cheers and screaming erupted throughout the air. Each move drove their excitement, ending with them growing louder until it became almost deafening.
Aden lunged, and Zyion stepped back, masterfully deflecting each blow meant to disarm him. Every parry Zyion made was precise, and forced Aden to riposte each swing. The merciless assault Zyion led had Aden backing away as each blow landed with a thud against his blade. Aden blocked each clash of his blade, but Zyion didn’t appear to be working hard.
The fight continued with one pushing the other back, before they’d switch and the aggressor would be forced to defend. The sharp clang of steel meeting steel filled the air as sweat trickled down my neck. It sent the scent of adrenaline, excitement, and fear fluttering on the breeze drifting through the stands, increasing the cries of those watching the maddening match. No one cheered for any color throughout the match, and the tension ratcheted higher every time the two men clashed.
Zyion continued, thrusting his blade forward at Aden, sending him back onto the verdant field. He executed each movement with precision, as though he had mastered a dance instead of swordplay. The dragons and phoenixes made noise, which forced my attention toward them, frowning as the dragons made a loud keening noise. The creatures even seemed excited about the fight, which was good for them, I guess.
I could tell the moment Aden barely escaped a few of the attacks he wielded by parrying with the blade he held, that he was tiring. Zyion waited for Aden to lift his blade, then spun in a move I’d never seen a warrior use against an opponent. His blade sliced through the air and sent Aden’s to the grass-covered field a few steps away from him.
Aden lunged for the blade, and Zyion didn’t move to end the battle. Instead, his eyes slid to mine before drifting to Griffon, who had been studying me instead of watching the fighting on the field. Griffon’s expression tightened before he jerked his head in some kind of unspoken order.
Zyion allowed Aden to retrieve his blade, which had my lips pinching in disapproval. I wasn’t sure if Griffon had told Zyion to throw the match or to end it, but either way, his interference was granted. Zyion shifted, slamming his blade against Aden’s in an aggressive, precise and powerful block.
Aden continued slashing against the blade Zyion wielded and then feigned right, but Zyion must have been expecting it because he side-stepped and then swung. Aden parried, but Zyion was so incredibly fast that Aden had little time to recover before Zyion’s blade slammed against his helm, sending both Aden and his blade to the ground. Zyion turned, staring at me as the crowd released a collective gasp.
Aden retrieved his blade for a second time, but Zyion’s attention remained on me. What the hell was he doing? It didn’t waiver as Aden approached his back or as Aden’s blade landed against his armor. Through whatever thread connected us, I felt Zyion tense as Aden pulled his blade back and then lunged forward. Horror flooded me as the tip of Aden’s blade pushed through Zyion’s lower abdomen, and I jumped to my feet. The eruption of cheers from the people watching, drowned out Zyion’s grunt of pain.
Griffon rose, his hand elevated in the air. Aden pulled his blade out and stepped back as Zyion dropped, leaning forward. He lifted his blade as Zyion’s gauntlet crashed against the earthen floor, hauling up the blade until it aimed in the air. His blood-curdling war cry filled the air as I felt my magic rushing to my fingertips.
“Enough!” Griffon snarled over the crowd, but their cheers overtook even his shout as their excitement heightened with the promise of blood.
Almost in slow motion, the sword swung down, and my magic flooded out of me, racing toward the two men. Before steel met flesh, my magic was there, a force so impenetrable that Aden’s blade shattered against it. Zyion’s silvery head swung toward me and the thread stretched ominously, almost in warning. A warning I ignored as I glared at Aden, waiting for his attention to move from his ruined weapon to where I stood, glaring down at him. Throwing the broken sword onto the field, he shouted for the squire to bring him another.
“I don’t need you to save me.”
“Did I ask if you did? No, I didn’t. Aden meant to remove your head.”
“And what if he’d done so? I didn’t ask for your colors or your fucking help, for that matter. Do you think I cannot protect myself? You should heed those who warn you not to intercede into matters not of your concern, Aria.”
“My concern? First off, I don’t take orders from others. Did I say you cannot protect yourself? No, I didn’t say shit about your prowess with a blade. I just watched you concede defeat to a worthless opponent who you could have easily destroyed several times throughout that mockery of a match. So, what I’d really like to know is why you threw it instead of teaching Aden the lesson I wanted to see him learn? Why?”
“Who I allow to win isn’t your concern. Nothing I do should worry that lovely head of yours. Aden bested me. Deal with it, princess. Here’s something you should know about me. I hurt people because I’m good at inflicting pain. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for those I love. That’s both a curse and a privilege I bear. I’m not a knight in shining armor, nor will I ever be one. I’ll let you down, just as I’ve done to everyone else who placed their trust in me. Do me a favor and stop thinking I’m something I’m not.”
“Retrieve your colors,” Baldrick sneered from the row in front of us. Violet eyes narrowed on me as his mouth twisted into a malicious smile. The man was repulsive. “It appears your knowledge of warriors is as lacking and misguided as your taste in lovers, girl.”
Rising as the entire congregation scrutinized me, I strolled onto the field beneath the angry glare of both men who’d fought upon it. Zyion stumbled to his feet with an uneasy look tightening his features. Aden’s scowl was cruel as it followed me. The moment I was near to him, Zyion tore the ribbon from his chainmail and then placed them in my hand. His fingers enveloped mine, gripping them firmly before he released the hold and stepped back for Aden to move closer.
“If you want a proper warrior? Then Zyion Vicious isn’t it. I should bypass protocol and come to your chamber to teach you what a real man truly is. Your treacherous body wouldn’t be so easily drawn to men of ill reputation after you’d been bedded properly. Or do you enjoy betraying your kingdom as you fuck our enemy, whore?”
The malice rolling off Aden left me stumbling for how to respond. He’d fooled me with his kind words and encouragements outside of this realm. I’d fallen for the fa?ade he’d displayed, but then I’d had no reason to distrust it. Zyion, clearly hearing what Aden had said, simmered with silent rage. Moreover, malice grew within him as Aden continued to slander me in his presence.