The black ink of the tattooed pupil on his neck dilated as it stared at me.
Was the tattoo sentient? Because its attention was fully on me while Scorpius was bitching to Luka.
I studied the art on Orion and Malum.
Was it all connected?
The sword on Malum wrapped around his neck like a choker, and the silver glinted like it was a sharpened edge. The pink flower petals on Orion’s neck shifted slightly as he moved his head.
I rubbed at the ink on my hip.
Surprisingly, being their slave wasn’t much of an imposition on my everyday life, since we were already forced to compete together as a legion.
I had nowhere to go and nothing to do.
No freedom.
I would laugh at the irony, but it wasn’t funny. It was horrifying.
Malum’s steel-colored eyes stared at me, and something close to pity flashed on his expression.
A servant appeared out of nowhere and bowed to Malum. “As requested, sir.” He offered a platter overflowing with yogurts, nut butters, and ripe fruit.
My mouth watered.
The plate was full of my favorite foods that were usually only served at breakfast.
Malum nodded and took the plate.
He put it in front of me, then turned back to his meal and resumed eating like nothing had happened.
I gaped at the bronze king.
His cheeks flushed red, and he gave no explanation.
It felt like a peace offering.
Like something monumental had shifted between us after I’d rescued Scorpius in the last competition.
Whatever, I wasn’t going to dwell on it.
Stomach growling, I hungrily dug into the feast. I piled on granola and drenched my creation in a mountain of nut butter.
Salty and sweet calories flooded my mouth.
My stomach cramped with relief.
I ate as fast as I could and replenished the energy I’d lost training. I was perpetually hungry after breakfast, since all the afternoon meals focused on serving meat.
“So good, thanks,” I said to Malum between a mouthful of honeyed, sliced mangoes.
Malum’s cheeks turned a brighter shade of crimson, and he grunted.
Good talk.
I turned back to inhaling my plate as quickly as I could.
Scorpius made a strangled noise, and Orion stared at me with a frown.
He didn’t blink.
Scraping my spoon across my cleaned plate, I slumped back in my seat contentedly.
The kings were laser focused on me, and I squirmed under the weight of their undivided attention.
Looking for a distraction, I turned to Zenith, who sat on my right.
“So how are ya doing?” I asked him.
Inky lines expanded under the demon’s eyes. “I told you to never talk to me.”
I chuckled at his joke. “You’re so funny.”
The lines expanded down Zenith’s neck, and veins bulged obscenely from his forehead.
Vegar made a caution motion behind Zenith’s back.
What was he going to do? Kill me?
Get in line.
I just wanted someone to talk to me. I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. Was that too much to ask for?
There was a reason John and Sadie were my best friends.
The academy legion ate in silence.
I leaned my chair back on its legs and stared at the vaulted stained-glass ceiling. Rolling my pipe between my lips, I squinted until everything was unfocused and blurry.
“Don’t tip your chair back like that,” Malum said as he furrowed his brow. “You’ll break your neck.”
I tipped back further.
He said something else. I didn’t listen.
The meal lasted an hour, but it felt like seconds.
Colors faded to gray, sounds became muted, thoughts fragmented and shattered. Reality obfuscated.
The only constant was enchanted smoke, and I inhaled like it could save me.
It didn’t.
Nothing could.
Chapter 29
Corvus Malum
THE PARTY
Metamorphosis—Day 41, hour 23
“No. We need this.” I glared down at the blue-haired woman who’d somehow become the bane of my existence.
Arabella huffed.
She paced back and forth in front of the hearth in our bedroom and whined, “Well, I need time alone in the library. So figure it out.” She squared her shoulders and tried to look intimidating.
I swallowed a laugh.
I had at least a hundred pounds of muscles on her.
It would be so easy to crush her.
“No.” I tried to sound casual, but my voice came out rough and gravelly.
She rubbed her fingers against her eyes with exasperation.
Somehow her eyes were more bloodshot than they’d been after the first competition. Black-and-green bruises stretched across her delicate cheekbones and the sides of her temples. A deep wound curled beneath her left eye. Her blue curls stuck out in every direction.
Shadows covered her pale skin.
She looked tired and young.
Laughter died on my tongue, and my face fell.
A foreign sensation crawled up my chest, and I rubbed at my sternum to dislodge it. I hated seeing her like this.
Lately all my hours had been consumed with worry over Arabella.
She wasn’t taking care of herself. Her wounds weren’t healing. There was a darkness in her eyes I didn’t like.
Years ago, I’d seen the same dissociated look on both my mates’ faces. It was the look of someone who was suffering. Someone who didn’t have anyone.
Doe eyes widened at me. “Please, Malum?” Arabella stuck out her lower lip in a pout.
My name was Corvus, and Malum was the name of our Devil House, but for some reason, she only called me Malum.
It was infuriating.
“My name is Corvus,” I spat out more aggressively than I wanted to. I was trying to be calmer around her, but it wasn’t working.
I wanted to be gentler with her. She was still a woman and not just a fellow male soldier. But she was also a teammate.
It was confusing.
Each day that she persevered through these games, my respect for her grew.
Something had changed when she’d dragged my Protector across the field and risked her own life to save his.
How I’d thought of her as pathetic was beyond me. Her strength of will was impressive, and I was rarely impressed with people.
But for some reason, every time I spoke to her, my words came out rougher and harsher than I meant them to be.
“Okay, Malum.” Sooty lashes fluttered as she made a face and said sarcastically, “Whatever you say.”
I ignored the instincts telling me to wrap her up and protect her.
Heal her.
The thoughts were distracting and driving me near madness.
“No,” I said roughly, then coughed as I tried to clear my throat. I tried to soften my posture. “Scorpius, Orion, and I need this party to let loose and recover from the competition. You don’t get to take this away from us as well. Stop pouting. It disgusts me.”
It didn’t disgust me.
That was the problem.
Lately, everything about the blue-haired woman filled me with interest. Respect. It was becoming slightly obsessive.
Arabella’s lips thinned into a snarl.
I inhaled deeply.
Her scent was icy and dangerous—like pure adrenaline.
She was intoxicating.
Dark-blue eyes flashed black, and she blew out a cloud of enchanted smoke as she scoffed, “It must be exhausting being so aggressive all the time.”
Her words echoed in the silence.
Wrapped around my neck like a rope.