[Book 3 of the Grounding the Storm series] Renit's worst nightmare has come true. Roux isn't at his side, and he's banished from his throne and his crown, leaving him nameless and on the run. While trying to escape his father's cruel reign, he has t...
"This will hurt, darling. Less if you sit still," my opponent purrs, panting all the while.
My hands shoot forward, nails digging directly into his eyes. He releases a brutal scream and I don't hold back, grabbing what I can and tugging. Blood squirts, splattering over my face and body as he pushes back, vaulting himself off of me. He whimpers, cursing underneath his breath.
I'm up and standing quicker than he can react, and while he still has his hands covering his eyes, I drive my boot into the side of his head. He topples to the side, motionless, and the tavern silences. Someone swears, slamming their fists against a wooden table as they realize they're not going to earn any winnings tonight.
I brace both my hands on the side of his head and twist quickly, relishing in the sound of bone cracking. For a second, everything is silent. The entire world stops and starts again as another fight in the pits is complete.
The silent man with no tongue steps forward, appearing from behind the titanium bars, and takes my wrist in his hand. He raises my sand-crusted and bloodied arm to the crowd to declare victory. Even Binx himself can't hold back whooping and hollering, clapping with the rest as I smile up at my spectators.
The blood splattered against my skin is long forgotten as is the man it belongs to. This wasn't my dirtiest fight and it definitely won't be my last—there will be more to come of the strength given by the king. I want these people to know they are not to mess with me, or the king. If the rebels are here, they'll know. They'll know the king has a new card up his sleeve, and if they attempt to go after him, they'll have no choice but to go through me first.
Binx is there to greet me outside the tunnel and hoists me up the stairs. "You could have been smarter about that," he protests. With a cloth, he brushes off the sand from my arms and stops himself there before stepping across any other boundaries.
"I won; that's all that matters. Right?" I ask, stuffing the cloth into my pocket. I'll clean myself later.
"You're reckless in there. Eventually, someone will notice your faults and use that against you." Binx takes my arm and leads me out of the tavern, past the crowd of people desperate for me to fight again. They want a second chance to earn winnings. Already, as Binx open the door, two new fighters are being selected. The thud of their boots hitting the sand is the only evidence. Silent as a serpent. "If you don't want to die, which I highly suggest you don't, be smarter."
Out in the night, the sweat on the back of my neck cools. The pits are stuffy, crowded with people, and there's little room to breathe. In the open air of the slums, I gulp down as much air as possible to get that last odor of the tavern out.
"It will please the king I won, at least. He won't belittle me." I shake off his grip and distance myself after he'd been holding on so tight. After Renit's false love, I have to keep my boundaries. I haven't thought about him in weeks, not since a fighter broke my arm. He's a distant memory now, a mistake in my past I never want to venture to again.
He took everything from me—my parents, my love for life, my home. I'll never forgive him for that, and if we ever come face to face...I'll kill him. I decided that long ago.
"He might not, but he also doesn't care whether you live or die. Just because you're his first experiment, the king's third hand, doesn't mean you're special." Binx straightens his tunic and pulls the hood of his cloak over his head. Anything to hide his features from the people of the slums, assuming they're looking for him. Likely not, it's more important they tend to their own misfortunes. They seem to have plenty here.
I snort and shake my head, tugging on a pair of leather gloves. My knuckles are scuffed and bleeding, but I bite down the pain and force on the protective gear. "You're an asshole, you know that, right?" I snap.
Binx grabs my arm once more and I stop walking, shuffling my boots against the loose, cracked stone. I don't need another lecture right now, I've received one too many in the past month. "I'm looking out for you, Roux. No one else will. If you don't do that for yourself, then you'll be careless. I'm sorry, but I'm just trying to help."
His hand drops back to his side, almost reluctantly. I don't long for his touch, there's something about him I can't quite grasp. Maybe it's his close association to the king. Why was he selected? Is it his power? Is he serving a greater purpose I don't know about?
The thoughts are torn from my head as the sound of boots skidding to a stop along the stone has my attention. I pivot, finding a hooded figure standing there, staring at me. His eyes are wide with shock, and his chest, once pounding with breath, hitches as if in surprise.
Him. It's him. He's here. The banished prince of Esaria. Renit Marron. His skin is crusted with grime; making him hardly recognizable, but it's those silver eyes, still bright with life, that give me all the answers I need.
He stares at me, searching over my face and finding the life there, the blood splatter and the sand crusted in my hair. A shaken gasp echoes, and he takes one step back, all while I draw my sword and advance towards him. Binx doesn't try to stop me, all fury blackens my vision and even if he tried, I wouldn't be able to stop.
I'm racing after him, chasing the prince through the street. He's the witch that went beyond ruining my life. Tears cloud my sight, but all I care to see is that hooded figure, fleeing through the alleys and streets. All this time I believed he left. Did he return or has he been hiding out the entire time—watching me?
I bite down my urge to scream at him. Binx catches up with me and grabs my arm, yanking me back so hard I almost fall on my ass. I whirl quickly, slamming my palms against his chest but as I turn back around, ready to slaughter the prince, I find that he's gone. Like a ghost escaping into the shadows, his figure vanished.
I growl through my teeth and slam my hand into Binx's chest once more. "You fool! I could have killed him!" I shout. My voice echoes through the street.
"That's not your priority right now!" Binx shouts back, equally angered. His eyes dart between me and where Renit vacated. Strong hands grip my shoulders, and I'm tempted to slink out of his hold.
"I'm telling the king he's here. I'll find him and I'll end his life."
"No, you won't," Binx objects. He tightens his grip before I can move out of it and sheath my sword. The blade is dangerously close to his knee, yet he doesn't seem to care. Everyone else this past month has moved around me like I'm a monster. Those I've killed were supposed to die. Akeno, the prisoners, everyone.
I force down the blinding ager I inherited from the king and ask, "Why the hell not?"
"If you tell the king, he'll send guards out." Binx's answer is quick. "You don't want them interfering on your personal mission, do you?" My mission to kill Renit Marron with my own two hands. No, I want to be the one to do that. Not some nameless guard who will use that at story-telling to grab a lady's attention.
I stomp my boot one last time on the stone. "Fine."
Binx sighs in relief and his hands slide from my shoulders. "Now let's go home."
He walks ahead, leaving me standing there by myself. After I watch his cloaked figure leave, shoulders hunched, I take one last look into the dark. Something shifts and I squint. Or was it my imagination? There's no time to tell as Binx shouts for me, demanding I come along, and I ignore the tugging in my chest telling me to go in the opposite direction.
I jog to catch up with Binx, immediately forgetting that familiar tug and scent of rain that comes along with it.
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