Inevitably Yours

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I knew Michael was capable, but I couldn’t believe he’d killed the first opponent so quickly. I could feel pain through our bond, but he looked relatively unhurt, not that I could purposely heal him anyways. My new Fae captor was white-knuckling my lead and clenching his jaw. He was not happy that Michael succeeded.

Michael told me about what he saw during the second trial. I wondered if I could heal him from our separated positions since the magic could somehow move. I wasn’t sure what was hurting him; I could only guess, and my guess was his hands. Miirphys hadn’t managed to hit Michael once.

“Next,” the King called.

“Erendriel, your majesty,” the Fae holding my ropes said. Below, the door rose again. Another Fae emerged through the door, presumably Erendriel. This one carried a long spear and shield, making my stomach drop. Michael was exceptional with and against swords, as that was his weapon. He was well-versed with plenty of other weapons, but a shield made things harder.

Erendriel approached Michael and stopped a few feet away. Michael’s back rippled; Eros was right on the surface. I tore my eyes away from him for a moment to assess the Fae next to me. I wondered if I could get away from him. If I could get down to M, two-on-one would be better.

“Our mate doesn’t just have to survive; we have to heal him. The first opponent hurt him and now faces a fresh one. They would not give him the hardest opponent first; they will get harder each time,” Sapphire fretted. She was right.

“Remember what Michael said about the magic flowing into me at the fountain? What if I could take the other Fae’s magic? If I could take his magic, maybe I could get away. If I can just get to M, I feel like I can help him,” I theorized. I didn’t know how to heal him, but my gut was telling me I needed to get close to him.

“Maybe. If the magic is moveable and transferable, you might be able to take it,” she agreed.

I looked down to the arena where Michael and Erendriel were slowly circling each other. Michael had an objective, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Miirphys’ body was still down there; it seemed disrespectful to leave it there. This opponent seemed a little more calculating than the last.

From the corner of my eye, I looked at the Fae next to me again. I didn’t know who he was, but he didn’t like me. I thought back to the fountain and how it felt when the magic was coming into me. I closed my eyes and tried to picture what M saw. Picturing it in my mind made the most sense.

The Fae next to me scoffed, and my eyes instantly shot open. Michael had gotten ahold of Miirphys’ sword. That gave him a little more even playing field. I needed to figure out how to get down there, and the first step was the Fae next to me. Begrudgingly I closed my eyes and focused again on picturing the magic.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to place everything around me. Faint colors danced in the darkness, but no shapes like before. I tried to picture myself as a blue figure like Michael described, giving myself shape. Maybe I could get the magic if I reached out for it.

I concentrated harder, trying to ignore the sound of the fighting below. I just needed M to hold on a little longer. I pictured myself with arms and tried to move them about. To my surprise, it worked, and the blue glow of my own form became clearer in my mind. The Fae next to me was faintly yellow. His color wasn’t as vivid as mine.

A pained roar sounded from the arena, and pain seared through my bond. M was getting hurt because I couldn’t do this. They were going to kill my mate because I’m not really one of them. My chest tightened as I panicked harder.

“Get the magic!” Sapphire shouted at me.

I focused back on the Fae next to me. Slowly, I reached toward him, imagining myself taking a step closer. I paused, listening around me to make sure there was no movement; I didn’t want them to figure out what I was doing before I could try.

After three long seconds of only the sound of the scuffle below, I took another imaginary step closer to him. Reaching forward, he was just out of my grasp, but the yellow around him started to glow brighter. So close.

“One more step,” Sapphire said.

Carefully, I took another magical step closer, my blue form glowing brighter against the blackness. The yellow light making up the Fae surged brighter. I reached out my hand and touched the yellow.

“AHHHHH!” I screamed as electricity consumed me. My whole body was burning painfully.

I fell to my knees as my eyes burst open. The shock lasted for only a few seconds, but it had been like a lightning strike. I looked at the Fae next to me, who had a nasty smirk on his face.

MICHAEL

Erendriel. This one looked serious compared to the sniveling i***t I’d just killed. He was wearing light armor and armed with a spear and a large rectangular shield.

“A bit far from Rome, aren’t we?” I asked. The coliseum and now an opponent dressed like a legionnaire; it was becoming a bit much.

“Where do you think the humans got the idea for a civilization that lasted for a millennia?” he asked as we began to circle each other.

He was looking at me carefully over the upper edge of his shield, his spear at the ready to lash out with. His moves were practiced, the product of immense repetition in training and use in real combat.

“I assume you’re going to be more fun than him?” I asked, jerking my head at the body they’d unceremoniously left on the ground.

“He was nothing,” Erendriel shrugged. “The runt hadn’t even started training at Bellaitohr. I, on the other hand, have graduated with honors. You are to be how I prove myself.”

“A real challenge,” Eros bristled. I could feel him trying to break free, but I pushed him back.

I knew parts of my hands were fractured, and they weren’t healing like normal. Given the test was made to force Quinn to heal me, I assumed they were stopping me from doing it myself. I wasn’t going to win this one empty-handed, and I didn’t want to let anyone know about my tattoos yet. I was saving my own swords for Arathorn and then for Quinn and me.

The Fae kid’s sword caught my eye, glittering against the never-ending sunlight where it stuck into the wall. We’d circled enough; the spear shot out at me like a viper striking. Erendriel was much faster than my last opponent, and I had to actually focus on him to stay out of reach of the spear. I started positioning myself to put my back to the sword, and he took the bait, trying to use it to cut me off. As soon as I was in front of the sword, I rolled backward under the spear aiming for my face and ended up flat against the wall. I drew the sword from it and used it to parry the next attack.

Erendriel looked annoyed that I had a weapon, but he quickly wiped his expression clean and went back to work. I maneuvered myself off the wall and back into the open center of the arena with some difficulty. Everywhere I went, the spear was there. Any opening I thought I could take now that I was armed, the shield covered him. It was an incredibly frustrating combination. My hand was swelling already, and gripping the sword’s hilt was both painful and difficult. Each time I connected with the shield, I felt the reverberations all the way through my body. It felt like it was going to tear my hands to shreds.

By the time I realized I’d fallen into his trap, it was too late to escape it. I understood the mechanics of fighting against the spear and shield but had little experience with it. On the other hand, he’d probably fought against a single sword countless times. He started drawing me in, stepping backward away from me as he tried different angles of attack to get around his shield. I avoided being skewered by the shower, dodging to my right. It put me squarely in front of his shield, which he used to check me hard enough to stun me. Before I recovered, he plunged his weapon into my right shoulder. The pain hadn’t fully registered before Erendriel stepped forward again, sweeping my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, a roar of pain, anger, and frustration escaping my lips.

I was pinned to the ground by the spear. He was holding the end of the shaft in an incredibly strong grip, and I couldn’t move without immeasurable pain.

“Stay,” Erendriel chastised. “Know your place, dog.”

I couldn’t get up, no matter how hard I tried. He pressed into me, his spearhead into the ground. Once Erendriel was satisfied with his placement and my incapacitation, he stood over me with his shield in both hands. He raised it above his head, and as a myriad of scenarios went through my mind to escape, I heard Quinn.

I could feel she was in pain through the bond, and her scream stopped both of us for a moment. I reached above my head with both hands and clasped them together, bringing them down on the spear and breaking through it. The pain radiated through my chest in nauseating waves; I had to ignore that. Erendriel clearly wasn’t expecting me to free myself, but he tried to finish me with his shield anyways. Right before he could bring it down on my head, I rolled toward my sword. I heard it slam into the ground behind me as I grabbed my weapon, turned around, and put it through one of his feet. He cried out in pain, and I took that opportunity to shove the broken spear shaft into his mouth, stabbing him with it. I front-kicked the shaft, forcing it through the back of his neck.

To my surprise, he still wasn’t dead. He looked at me over the spear shaft with hatred in his eyes. While he was otherwise occupied, I looked for Quinn.

“Q!” I yelled. She stood up, and I could see she was white in the face from whatever pain I was feeling through the bond.

“What have you done to her?” I asked indignantly the Fae holding her ropes.

“I did nothing, dog,” he sneered. “She tried to escape and hurt herself. You should worry about yourself, though.”

He pointed back at Erendriel, who was working on removing the shaft from his throat.

“f**k this,” I muttered to no one in particular. I ripped the remaining spearhead and shaft from my chest, staining the ground with my b***d.

Then, I set Eros free. He came forth gladly, wanting to test his theory about eating Fae. The look of complete horror on Erendriel’s face was priceless as Eros closed his teeth over his head and ripped it free from his body. A disgusting crunch was all that was left of my opponent in the end as Eros consumed him. I didn’t feel any stronger, but Eros felt better.

I shifted back to a broken and b***d-covered body. It was hard to stay upright; the b***d loss was making me lightheaded and dizzy.

I looked straight at the King, held up two fingers, then spit heavily on the ground. He did not look pleased.

“Next,” he demanded,

“Arathorn,” answered the Fae with Quinn. He sounded unhappy about the turn of events too. Two of three down and no need to be healed, although I could barely stand now.

“Finally,” I said as Arathorn came into view. He was shirtless and held a two-handed war hammer in his grasp. His expression was unreadable, but it didn’t matter. I reached behind for my shoulder blades, causing pain to wash over me as I returned with Safir and Diagne.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I growled.

“You’ll wish you hadn’t,” Arathorn replied calmly. “But I will try to end this quickly.”