The Legionnaire Games: Day 27, hour 11
“Fucking slut,” a demonic beast growled as it ripped the warm covers off me.
There was a loud smacking noise as the bed bounced. The furnace I’d been pressed against disappeared.
I shivered.
Another demonic beast sneered, “Whore.”
They definitely didn’t mean it in a coquette way. Embarrassing for them.
“Oh, look,” I said as I squinted open my crusty eyes. “Three bastards with mommy issues and the emotional maturity of dead fish.”
“We don’t have mothers,” Scorpius snapped.
The jokes really wrote themselves.
Grabbing at the covers, I pulled them over my head and said, “Exactly.” Again, they were ripped away, and goose bumps erupted across my partially healed legs.
Someone had opened the room’s curtains, and the red light from the eclipse was too bright.
I pulled my hoodie up over my head and told my attackers, “You’re a bunch of soulless, demonic men.”
“Hey, that’s offensive,” Vegar said across the room.
I winced.
“Sorry, let me rephrase.” I waved my hands. “The Devil Kings in this room are horrible pieces of shit. Everyone else is chill. I have no beef with the demon and pathetic human communities.”
John huffed. “Who are you calling pathetic, Princess? Because I know it’s not me.” His laughter was low and smooth. “If you knew what I was, you wouldn’t be saying that.”
I pulled the hoodie away from my eyes.
John was standing beside his bed in nothing but loose gray sweatpants.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked and pointedly looked away from his impressive naked torso.
John flashed a dimple and winked. “You don’t want to know.”
Keeping my eyes on the ceiling, I held my hands toward him. “Get back into bed. You’re like a giant heating pad, and I’m cold.”
I grinned as John immediately leaned forward to snuggle into my arms.
A flaming arm clotheslined him.
He choked and stumbled backward, then fell to his knees on the floor. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked Malum in between gasps for air.
The three kings stood in the middle of the room, and all their attention was on me.
“Take it off,” Orion mouthed and gestured at my sweatshirt.
I rubbed the blurriness out of my eyes and asked with confusion, “What?”
Orion was covered in bruises and stitches and didn’t look well. His golden skin was pallid, and he was panting loudly from the exertion of standing upright.
His lips were flat lines as he mouthed, “You’re ours. You don’t wear another man’s clothes.”
Oh, it all made sense.
The kings were lunatics.
Frankly, I was too depressed to deal with them.
Malum’s flames shot higher in the air. “Take it off now or I’ll burn it off you. Slave.”
There was that charming personality.
“No,” John growled from the floor as he massaged his throat.
Flames screamed in the fireplace. Curtains blew dramatically because the stained-glass windows were opened wide, presumably to help with the stench.
I’d have recommended a flower-scented perfume if I’d thought it would help.
I didn’t bother to respond.
You couldn’t reason with crazy.
Pressing my palms against my eyes, I crawled off the bed and stomped past the kings into the bathroom. My limbs ached, and I swore I could feel the blood rushing through my abused arteries.
I was in too much pain for their games.
Not that they’d ever see me flinch.
I donned the stony mask of the fae queen and stepped around the bloody pads and piles of gore that covered the carpet. The bedroom was still a crime scene.
“What are you doing? We ordered you to take that sweatshirt off,” Malum snarled and stomped after me.
I slammed the bathroom door in his face.
Turned the lock.
I leaned against the bathroom counter and splashed cold water on my cheeks. Grabbed the toothbrush with my name engraved on it and scrubbed at my teeth until my gums bled.
Wiping my face clean, I winced at the tender green bruises that covered my face like a bad camouflage. A long, stitched-up gash sliced underneath my left eye.
Turquoise curls stuck out around my head in every direction.
Two black eyes completed the look.
I’d seen wanted posters for insane escaped prisoners that looked better than I did.
A foggy memory of landing face-first on grass played in the back of my mind, and manic laughter bubbled up my throat.
I’d jumped headfirst off the post like an absolute badass.
I stared into the mirror and laughed harder.
The only source of light in the bathroom was a small hexagon window. Maroon light cast spooky shadows around my reflection. I looked creepy.
I’d tipped off a post into open air with a pipe between my lips and Horse by my side, and the free fall had felt like exquisite freedom.
I smiled.
Oops. I was missing three teeth.
Sometimes I was cool as shit.
Leaning closer to the mirror, I poked at my eyeballs. They were no longer bloodshot; they were just bloody.
Masses of broken blood vessels surrounded my corneas.
I blinked, and a droplet of blood ran down my cheek like a teardrop. A pink streak was left across green-tinted skin.
Once again, absolute badass.
“John’s sweatshirt better be off your body when you come out.” Malum pounded on the door. “Remember who owns you.”
John yelled, “Don’t listen to him, he’s just jealous because—”
There was a loud grunt and the sound of men wrestling.
I ignored them.
Pressing John’s soft sweatshirt against my nose, I inhaled the woodsy deliciousness.
I officially had an olfactory kink. Another thing I didn’t need to know about myself.
Just to check, I sniffed my skin and choked on the pungent scent of gore.
I smelled like a dead rat.
Not all of us were so blessed.
For a long moment, I considered keeping it on just to piss the kings off, but then a wave of exhaustion made the world spin. I toppled over.
Knees pressed against the bathroom floor, I tried to calm my racing heart.
I wasn’t strong enough to fight with the kings.
I tipped forward and lay on the floor with my limbs spread. The tile didn’t feel cold, because I was already shivering. Lately I was always cold, and I didn’t know why.
After long moments of panting and trying mentally to pull myself together, I got back to my feet.
With stiff, achy movements, I reluctantly pulled off John’s cozy sweatshirt and folded it onto my shelf.
We each had our own cubby and hamper in the bathroom that the servants kept stocked with clean clothes. I needed to thank whatever female servant had added a new pile of underwear and sports bras. Only a woman would have included the shapeless, soft purple garments that flattened my boobs and completely covered my butt in comfy fabric.
Sorting through the pile, I could have sworn there were usually five pairs of underwear, but now there were only four. The last pair must have been unsalvageable.
Getting dressed seemed like a smart idea in theory.
In reality, my stitches pulled, and once again I fell over as I tried to pull up my underwear.
I slammed my aching knees onto the tile.
Popped a stitch on my arm.
The lilac undergarments went well with my blue hair, scabbing red wounds, and green-black bruises.
I’d never looked so colorful.
Looking over the cubbies, I followed the kings’ instructions. I pulled Orion’s sweatshirt out of his cubby and pressed the chocolate-raspberry scent to my face.
Pulling on his sweatshirt was an exercise in mortal combat, and it snagged on my wounds.
When it was all said and done, I stared blankly at my clothed reflection. I stuck my pipe between my lips and puffed out Horse to complete the look.
He cawed and settled his smoking talons onto my shoulders.
My new aesthetic was cozy, drug-dependent swamp monster.
Not to brag, but I nailed the look.
Shuffling forward on aching joints, I leaned my head against the bathroom door and counted to ten. Inhaled drugs.
In an alternate universe, my fictional lover was out of his mind with concern that I’d been injured. He was on the other side of the door, ready to pamper me and make sure I didn’t lift a finger. He was waiting to coddle me and give me sweet kisses.
“Get your ass out of the bathroom!” Malum shouted.
I exhaled smoke.
In this universe, I suffered.
I pushed open the door with my shoulders back and asked calmly, “What’s the plan for the day?” Straightening my shoulders, I tried to project competence.
The three kings stood outside the door, waiting for me.
Orion raised his eyebrow when he saw what I was wearing, and a smile curved his lips. He looked like a cat with cream.
Malum glared like usual, and tiny scarlet flames danced across his exposed bronze arms. He wore a black T-shirt that clung to his bulging muscles like a second skin.
Steel eyes traced over me slowly.
He clenched his jaw as he recognized whose sweatshirt I was wearing but he said nothing about it.
I arched my brow at him tauntingly.
I also did not notice the network of veins that decorated his forearms. Nope. Didn’t see them at all.
I did notice that he wasn’t bruised, and compared to mine, Orion’s marks were minimal. There were a few angry gashes across their exposed skin, but otherwise they looked healthy and unaffected by the fall.
Not relatable.
Scorpius’s head tilted in my direction like he was listening to every breath I took. Orion whispered in his ear.
Malum dragged his hands over his buzzed hair and said, “Since we only have seven days until the next competition, we’re going to ramp up our training. First, we go to lunch.” Silver eyes narrowed on me. “Everyone needs to focus on eating as much as possible during meals so they’re fueled and ready.”
I saluted him with my third finger and said sarcastically, “Yes, sir.”
“Good,” he snapped and draped both his arms across Scorpius’s and Orion’s shoulders. They melted against him.
But they didn’t move.
Their large bodies were positioned to take up a maximum amount of space, and they had me pinned with the bathroom door behind me.
My voice was raspier than usual as I spoke. “I get that I’m perfect and you’re obsessed with me, but could you give me a little space?” I flipped my wild curls over my shoulder. “Thanks.”
Flames sizzled as they trailed down bronze forearms.
John pushed past the kings. “Nah, you don’t get any space, bestie.” He flung his arm over my shoulder and half led, half dragged me out the door while the demons and kings followed us.
His eyes narrowed as he looked down at what I was wearing, but the expression disappeared so quickly I convinced myself I’d imagined it.
He smiled down at me softly.
Horse flapped with outrage and repositioned himself on top of John’s arm.
“What are you doing?” I tugged against John’s hold.
Lightning struck the walls of the busy hall, and my hair crackled. It reeked of burning ozone.
The academy students, royals and commoners alike, scrambled out of our way as we passed. Some bowed at us, while others openly gaped like we were mythical creatures.
I rolled my eyes.
John’s fingers tightened on my shoulder, and his minty breath was hot against the side of my face. “Relax, dude. I’m just trying to keep you alive. I didn’t stitch you up for hours just for you to get bonfired by Malum.”
“I’d like to see him try.” I huffed as I tried to turn around to glare at Malum.
John grunted and tightened his hold so I couldn’t turn. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Stop poking at Corvus. He’s our captain, and we need his cooperation to get through the games.”
The fight drained out of me. “He enslaved me. I can’t let that go. He’s so disrespectful.”
Dimples flashed in my peripheral vision. “Worry about what you can control. We’ll deal with that later.”
“Easy for you to say.” I pouted, hurt that my friend wasn’t more concerned for me. My fictional lover would have been all over Malum’s ass for how he treated me.
“Hey, no moping.” John pulled me closer and ruffled my curls. “When it’s time to handle the kings, we will. You just gotta trust me.”
“Fine,” I said even though I didn’t believe him. “You better not be just saying that.”
“I’m not.” John ruffled my hair harder. “Now let’s feast. I don’t know about you, but I could eat a horse.”
Horse cawed with alarm and pecked at John’s eyeballs. My delusional friend just laughed and swatted at the incorporeal crow.
“Get him, Horse. Eat his brains,” I encouraged, and John just chuckled harder.
When we entered the hall, two things stuck out to me: (1) Sadie and her men were all sitting at a table looking healthy, and (2) a body was crucified to the tree.
“Um.” I stopped and pointed.
Hundreds of stakes pinned a carcass to the trunk of the sacred tree. They shook as a head lifted.
Not a carcass, a man.
I stumbled because holy sun god, how was such a gory mess alive?
“Ignore that,” John said casually like he was used to it as he led me toward our table.
Some students fell silent as we walked by, while others yelled congratulations and clapped like someone wasn’t being tortured a few feet away.
I leaned closer to John, and he tucked me under his arm protectively.
As we passed the tables of the other legions, Sadie flung herself out of her seat and gave me a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “You look like shit, Aran. What the heck!” Her raspy voice filled with concern. “I thought you were supposed to be all-powerful.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you look completely fine?” She didn’t have a single bruise or cut on her. She looked great.
Sadie whispered dramatically, “Rumor is they spiked the food to halt our healing, but for some reason it doesn’t work on me.” She pointed over to the table where Jax’s dark skin was a crisscross of stitched-up wounds similar to ours. “I think it must be my blood powers or something. Someone said it has to do with our souls. Maybe it’s the thing with me and the moon goddess?” She shrugged. “I guess I’m just special.”
I tipped my head at Jax in solidarity.
From the mangled state of the other competitors at the other tables, it seemed like Sadie was correct. Two of the assassins were missing from their table, and the leviathan men looked like somebody had died.
Something itched at the back of my brain. Something was different about Sadie, but I didn’t feel like the moon goddess was the reason.
My head ached, and I stopped worrying about it.
Turning back to my friend, I stared down at her. “Whatever it is, I’m glad it didn’t work on you.” Gratitude that at least she wasn’t suffering welled in my heart.
Sadie was okay.
The scars covering her exposed chest were testaments to what she’d already been through, and if anyone deserved to catch a break, it was her.
“Yeah.” Sadie smiled and pointed to the tree. “Plus, we didn’t end up like that guy.”
“Who is…” I trailed off as I realized why I recognized the figure on the tree.
It was a man from the leviathan legion.
The competitor who’d refused to jump.
My jaw dropped. “They only said you’d be removed from the games, not that.”
“Oh, he’s removed all right,” Sadie joked.
Holy sun god.
Guilt stabbed my gut. That could have been our fates if we hadn’t jumped, and I hadn’t even been worried about Sadie when I’d woken up.
I’d been so concerned with my pain and dealing with the kings.
“Sorry for being a shitty friend,” I whispered and pulled her against me with one arm. Since John’s arm was still thrown over my shoulder, it ended up being a weird three-way hug.
“You’re not,” Sadie mumbled as she pressed her face into my sweatshirt.
John dwarfed us both with his larger size.
Warmth exploded in my chest because I was sandwiched between my best friends and we were all okay.
I squeezed.
Then our three-way hug shifted as Sadie kicked John in the knee and he elbowed her spine. I pretended not to notice.
“I love you guys,” I whispered. “Like seriously so much.”
“Aw, Aran,” Sadie said sweetly. “I love you more than anyone else ever could.”
John made a noise in his throat. “Please, bitch. I love her the most.”
Comfort washed over me like the rays from the two fae suns.
I’d stupidly assumed that because John was a guy, he wouldn’t be able to express his emotions.
Sun god I was so lucky to have not only one but two amazing friends.
I squeezed with all my might and ignored the popping sound of a stitch breaking on my arm as I said, “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure we all make it out of this alive.”
“Same,” John and Sadie chorused back.
Fae sunshine kissed my soul.
For a second, the world seemed brighter.
“Stop humping each other. You’re causing a scene,” Malum growled roughly from nearby.
Scorpius sneered, “Fucking whore.”
Moment over.
The world was dark.
