Темнейшее поражение

For a moment, her surroundings faded, as did her hurt, and she basked in her sisters’ unflinching support. They loved her. No matter what, they loved her. They accepted her. They thought she was good enough, just as she was. Then the world spun back into focus, and she had to blink against the burn of tears.

Damn it. How many times would she have to battle the urge to sob today?

“The first competition begins bright and early tomorrow morning,” Juliette went on. “Afterward, everyone will be notified of exactly where the next competition is taking place. As you know, we no longer host the games in one location because previous contestants rigged and sabotaged them ahead of time.” Even though Kaia hadn’t been responsible—hello, she hadn’t been invited—Juliette tossed the words at her.

Whatever. Her spine snapped straighter, as though anchored in place by steel rods.

Strider’s hand settled on her lower back, warm and steady, comforting. Sizzling. Sweet heaven, her surroundings faded once again, until only the two of them existed. She imagined his mouth replacing his hand, his tongue licking, trailing lower. A gasp escaped her.

Get yourself under control. If she got “the wrong idea” about something as innocent as a pat, he’d take off, as promised. Like she could blame him. Had the situation been reversed, she would have done the same.

Deep down, they were just alike. Warriors honed on the field of battle, sharp as a dagger, cynical, willing to do anything for their friends. And on some level, they were friends. Had been since the first. He might not want to be here, but he didn’t want her to get hurt, either. So he’d come; he would help her. But he wouldn’t let her push for more. As long as she maintained an emotional distance, he would stay. Would be her “medicine cabinet.”

As pissed off and hurting as she was, she was also grateful.

“Something else is also new this year,” Juliette continued, pulling Kaia from her thoughts. “The prize. This time around, the winners will not receive silver and gold after each competition.”

“What?” someone shouted.

“That’s why we’re here!” another growled.

Juliette held up her hands, a command for silence. A command that was instantly obeyed. “This year, we have something better.”

Amid questioning murmurs, the curtain at the side of the stage parted. And then—Kaia’s mouth dropped open. No way. No damn way. The “slave” she’d tried to acquire all those centuries ago, the one who’d wreaked such havoc on the Harpy clans, strode to Juliette’s side. He was chained at the wrists, just as before. He was more muscled now, his dark hair longer, but his features were still sharp, stubborn.

“Dear gods. Is that him?” Bianka gasped out.

“Yeah,” she managed to squeak. No one had told her that Juliette had found him. When had she found him? Where? “That’s him.”

“Him who?” Strider demanded.

At first, Kaia thought she detected a note of jealousy in his tone, and it was such a loverlike response she wanted to kiss him deep and dirty. Strip him down to nothing more than skin and a smile. She wanted to ride him hard, fast and forever. All mine. Then common sense punched her right in the jaw. He might be jealous, but not in any way that mattered. Strider had decided to help her, and his demon would allow no one to interfere. Especially not another warrior.

Part of her resented that. The other part of her really resented that. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you, Meds? He’s no one you need to concern yourself with.”

“Kaia,” he snapped.

“Hush it, would you?” She couldn’t tell him the truth. Still didn’t want him to know of her past foolishness, when he already thought so little of her. “You’re making me look bad in front of my team.”

“Kaia.”

“Fine. I’ll explain later,” she lied.

A tense pause. Then, “You’d better.”

“Or else?”

“Yeah.”

Her nemesis—the man she’d searched for over the years, determined to punish for what he’d done to her sister, but had never found—now held a long, thin spear. Its thicker, oblong tips were comprised of glass, something glowing and twirling inside them.

Power, so much power, radiated from that spear.

Juliette claimed the weapon without a word of thanks. The man—his name, she had long ago learned, was Lazarus, though she and Bianka had nicknamed him The Tampon for being such a douche—spun on his booted heels. His dark gaze moved over the crowd…searching…before snagging on Kaia. He stopped, stared.

Oxygen froze in her lungs, making it impossible to breathe. No damn reaction, she thought. Not here, not now. Later, though, she would seek him out. She would hurt him as she’d always wanted.