Who said that to people? Was he trying to make us panic?
It was working.
“Sweet,” Jinx whispered and fist-bumped the air. I stepped out of line and kicked her in the shins.
She fell to her knees, and Jax glared back at her and told her to behave.
Jinx made a vulgar gesture.
I smirked, then turned back to stare at the frothing ocean as Lothaire hammered away further at my nonexistent will to live.
He said, “On the morning of each competition, I will announce the specific combination of people the gods want to see compete. Most weeks, they will choose, but sometimes you will have to decide as a legion who will compete. You will be judged on your selections. Everything is a test.”
I picked at the scab on my lip.
Lothaire’s eye roamed over each of the legions. “The rules for each competition will change. The loser of each competition will be punished. The punishments will be chosen by the gods.”
I picked harder at my lip.
“This is a psychological showcase. You will be judged on every choice you make. It’s not just about what you’re willing to dole out; it’s about what you’re willing to take. You will be judged on how you suffer.”
The scab on my lip ripped off, and I rolled the flap of skin into a ball between my fingers.
Droplets of salt water burned the open cut.
Lothaire pointed to the academy.
“Each legion has a designated room in the academy where you’ll sleep and recover. There will be no outside assistance for healing. When you’re not competing, you have free use of the academy and grounds to train and prepare yourselves. Meals are served at six a.m., twelve p.m., four p.m., and eight p.m. every day.”
My eyes unfocused.
Then Lothaire pointed at each of our legions. “The first competition is in ten days. Right now, appoint a team captain who’ll lead and organize your legion. Your captain will be in charge of deciding who competes when the choice is presented.”
Lines melded into circles as each group whispered to themselves like they were excited.
Not relatable.
I didn’t move.
The waves crested and crashed.
“I appoint Corvus as captain,” Scorpius said, and Orion nodded. “Does everyone agree?”
“Fine with us,” Zenith and Vegar said.
John shrugged. “That works.”
Water slammed against the rocky coast and sent droplets spraying into the air.
“Arabella, do you agree?” Scorpius snapped his fingers in front of my face.
“Sure.”
Scorpius made a rude noise under his breath.
“Good,” Malum said in his deep baritone voice. “We’ll begin training after this with a long run. We need to be ready.”
I couldn’t hold back my snort.
“Got something to say, Arabella?” Malum asked through gritted teeth.
“Nope.”
Scorpius snapped, “Please, Arabella, share with us what you were just scoffing at.”
I made a face at the blind king, then turned to Malum. “Nothing we do is going to prepare us for this. You heard what Lothaire said. It’s a psychological competition. A run will not help us make better decisions.”
The idea was ludicrous.
Malum bristled like I was usurping his leadership. “That’s why I’m the captain and you’re nothing but a liar who concealed her identity.”
Men were so melodramatic.
“That has nothing to do with this,” I said tiredly.
Malum’s deep voice was abrasive as he said, “It has everything to do with this.” Scarlet flames jumped off his bronze arms.
He crowded my personal space.
“How?” I asked as I refused to tip my head back to look at him.
“Because you’re clearly broken.” He tapped his temple and smirked. “The rest of us don’t have your pathetic little mental problems.”
I dropped the ball of skin from my fingers. “Whatever.”
“Back away from her.” John shoved himself in front of me. “What’s wrong with you?”
Malum chuckled meanly. “Arabella is the problem, not me.”
John’s voice was bitter. “Do you really think that? After everything she’s been through. She’s proven herself.”
“Please!” Malum glared back and forth between John and me. “She doesn’t need you defending her.”
I pushed John behind me. “Don’t talk to him that way.”
Red flames multiplied along Malum’s arms. “Grow up. You think you can—”
Malum ranted on and on, but I didn’t hear another word he said as I compartmentalized everything we’d learned.
I only had to survive four competitions.
Then an intergalactic war.
Wonderful.
Chapter 11
Scorpius
OBSESSION
The Legionnaire Games: Day 13, hour 5
We were running as a legion around the perimeter of the island in our usual formation.
It should have been a routine exercise, but it wasn’t because of one person—Arabella. She wasn’t okay.
I could tell she was mentally struggling.
Not that I cared.
I just could tell.
I’d been listening to her long before she’d revealed herself to be a woman. Before she’d been branded as our slave. There was something about the way she breathed, spoke, ate, slept that made it impossible to ignore her.
Over the last few days, my fixation had gotten worse.
I couldn’t stop myself from listening to every stupid, uneven breath she took.
Arabella was a mouth breather and just all around a pathetic, annoying person with too many issues to count.
She was also loud as fuck.
The loudest person I’d ever met.
So many noises. A small catch in the back of her throat when she was panicking and forgot to breathe. Shaky inhales as she sucked on her pipe and it clattered against her teeth.
Her stress was loud.
And she was always stressed. Twenty-four seven.
It was driving me mad.
The worst of all her mannerisms was the numbers: she constantly counted under her breath. Sometimes it was prime numbers or square roots, and other times it was odd numbers.
With how many times within a minute that she sucked on her pipe, choked on air, and muttered to herself, it was obvious Arabella had no control over herself.
She was the antithesis of Corvus’s quiet control.
Arabella was chaos.
She was annoying.
A nuisance.
Who couldn’t breathe correctly? It was the first thing children learned and mastered.
Now, as we jogged as a legion around the island, everyone else was fine, but Arabella was panicking.
Yet again.
For the sixty-eighth time in the last hour, Arabella choked as she inhaled.
I fisted my hands until my knuckles cracked.
Dug my nails deep under my skin until pinpricks of pain calmed me.
Water splashed beneath my feet, and I displaced pebbles with each step I took. The small rocks clanged against one another. The salty ocean soaked the bottom of my sweatpants.
The sensations were familiar. Calming.
The howling eastern winds that blew off the sea weren’t the only noises. High above, I’d estimate a few hundred feet in the air on the north side of the island, there were loud flapping noises. Shouts.
Feathers clattered together.
Ice swords cracked as they clashed.