The Legionnaire Games: Day 24, hour 4
Three days earlier through present.
I woke up on the floor of our room.
I was alone.
The clock on the wall struck 8:00 p.m. The rest of my team must be at dinner.
Groaning in agony, I rolled over, and all the breath left my body.
On the rug beside me, my Revered and Arabella lay in pieces.
Like broken dolls.
Fractured bones stuck out through torn and ragged skin. They were a mess of blood and gore, and their mangled chests were barely breathing.
Their hands were outstretched like they were reaching for each other.
I moved toward Arabella.
She looked so small and pale, helpless. Who was protecting her?
Kneeling next to her, I gently brushed the matted curls off her forehead. I needed to help her. I needed to save her.
Make this right.
She should never be in such a horrible state. It wasn’t right.
I rubbed the blood off her desperately as I stared down at her unconscious figure. I grabbed at her flesh and pushed pieces of her back together.
No. She needed to be okay.
She should never look like this.
I was the team captain, and she was the physically weakest person on the team. It was my job to protect her, and I’d failed.
Long moments passed as I tried desperately to put organs back into place to speed up the healing process.
Guilt punched me, and I stumbled away from her like she was poisonous.
I’d gone to her first and not my Revered.
It must be the slave tattoo influencing me.
I wanted to puke.
As an Ignis, my actions were sacrilegious.
Ignoring the girl, I turned my full attention to Orion. Found the needle and thread in the healing kit and knelt atop him.
With wounds gaping, I began stitching.
I tried to make it up to him. Showed him my devotion. Gave him everything I could.
Exhausted.
Head spinning with blood loss.
With painstaking precision, I sewed him back together.
I was fully focused on my Revered, but I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over every few minutes to make sure Arabella’s chest kept rising.
When it didn’t for too long of a moment, I had a mini panic attack and lit a pillow on fire.
Her chest rose, and I exhaled with relief.
I didn’t like the woman. She was annoying. But I’d gotten used to her surly presence and ridiculous sarcasm.
It was just a captain thing. She was my teammate; that was why I cared. Nothing more.
Arabella stopped breathing again, and I moaned as anxiety twisted my gut.
When her chest rose, I nearly passed out.
I stitched up my Revered with half my attention on the curly-haired woman.
I was in hell.
Hours later the rest of my legion returned to find me covered in blood as I stitched up my Revered.
“Let me help,” Scorpius offered.
I growled like a wild animal and used my body to shield Orion from his view.
I was his Ignis. He was my responsibility. My everything.
He was mine to fix.
Against my will my eyes wandered over to Arabella. She is also mine to fix. I shook my head to dislodge the inane thoughts the tattoo was putting in my head.
She looked so pale.
Small and vulnerable.
I turned back to Orion with renewed dedication.
Scorpius must have understood what I wasn’t saying because he knelt beside me and wiped sweat off my brow as I worked.
John fell to his knees beside Arabella, and the urge to scream at him bubbled up my throat. A needle snapped beneath my fingers as I stopped myself from shoving him away from her.
Scorpius handed me another one silently, but his jaw was also clenched tightly.
I turned back to Orion.
I pretended I wasn’t watching John struggle to put her pieces back together again. “Be careful with her,” I snarled at him when he was a little too jerky with his movements.
She was too mangled to stitch, with all the gore hanging out of her.
No. Focus on Orion.
Yet again I ripped my gaze away and focused on the most important person in my life. I lost myself in helping him.
At some point, Lothaire came into the room to check on Aran. He pulled at his braid and flexed his fingers as he repeated over and over that he couldn’t intervene and help her or we’d all be disqualified and punished.
His words rubbed me the wrong way, and I bristled as I stitched.
If he cared, he would have done something.
Scorpius agreed with me, because he said some choice swear words under his breath.
His daughter was lying in pieces as John pushed her back together, and Lothaire stalked out of the room while mumbling that he couldn’t interfere.
Flames leaped across my shoulders.
As he left, Lothaire slammed the door with unnecessary force that made the floor vibrate.
The needle jostled, and I poked Orion’s arm.
I growled with frustration and fought the urge to run after him and punish him for being a shit father.
My thoughts were completely irrational.
After a few deep breaths, I kept working.
Twenty-four hours later, my Revered was stitched up to my exacting standards.
Fingers cramping, I dropped the needle.
My vision blurred.
My untreated injuries had been exacerbated over the last few hours. Orion was covered in more of my blood than his own.
I sat there staring down at him.
His eyelids fluttered open, and he coughed.
I collapsed with relief.
Scorpius shouted for the demon’s help, and he hovered over me. Darkness consumed me.
I groaned as I blinked.
Disoriented.
Someone had moved us both. I was tangled with Orion and Scorpius in our bed. I pulled the sheets back, and Orion’s wounds were partially healed. Someone had stitched up all my wounds. Both my mates were safe, and my Revered looked much better.
He snored softly and cuddled both of us closer.
Relief hit me like a bullet.
The invisible pressure evaporated off my chest, and I relaxed into the soft mattress and rolled over.
But the tension returned as I looked around the room.
The demons were in their usual bed, but that wasn’t what made me stiffen.
No, I was taut because of what was happening in the other bed.
Arabella was sprawled across John’s naked chest, and the fucker was propped up on his pillows, holding her. She was covered in stitches and looked a million times better than the last time I’d seen her.
John scowled at me and nuzzled the top of her head.
He shouldn’t have been the one to fix her. She is ours.
I didn’t consciously make the choice to move, but suddenly I was across the room, ripping Arabella out of John’s embrace.
She dared to sleep in his arms while wearing his sweatshirt when she was our slave? After everything we’d been through, she taunted us with her promiscuity.
A small, rational part of me understood my thoughts made no sense.
I knew the brand on my hip was addling my brain.
But knowing didn’t make a difference.
I was so angry that I almost missed the fact that Arabella wasn’t just stitched up; she was also clean.
She scrambled out of bed in John’s sweatshirt.
Had they showered together?
I saw red and stalked her across the room like a wild animal. Seethed as she locked the door and ignored me.
Calmed myself by punching John.
Finally, Arabella emerged from the bathroom with a bored expression on her face. Like she was completely apathetic to having almost died. Like she didn’t care that she’d touched another man.
It made me homicidal.
She walked by and Orion’s scent filled my nose. My lips curled upward, and satisfaction warmed my blood. She was wearing my Revered’s sweatshirt.
For some unfathomable reason, I liked that she was wearing his clothes. I really liked it. Unacceptable. She’s a disgrace.
I forced my lips downward.
Scowled.
Focused on my anger. The emotion grew as I followed her and John down the hall.
Students stared up at our table. Tongues moved, heads bent close, and fingers pointed. They gawked at us.
She looked terrible, and everyone was whispering about it.
Even the other legions abandoned the pretense of eating and gawked at her.
The large man from the angel legion with two different colored eyes glowered like he had a personal grudge against our slave.
He hadn’t earned the right to hate her. But I had.
The room’s buzz faded into the background as Arabella embraced Sadie and John.
Eerie silence prevailed.
The nothingness of our missing mating song was becoming more prevalent. The silence felt cold.
Dust particles drifted.
Goose bumps prickled across my arms as the phantom chill enveloped me.
The gnarled shadows from the sacred tree drifted back and forth as if the branches were in tune with the quiet. I raked my hand across my shaved head and tried to physically dislodge my ridiculous thoughts.
Was I cracking under the pressure? Maybe they were right and I was too young to be the leader of the kings.
My Revered squeezed my shoulder, and his touch grounded me. My Protector dug his nails into the nape of my neck, and I leaned back into the pain.
I needed to focus on the problem: Arabella.
Instead of sitting down and eating like every other competitor, she hugged John and Sadie.
Why couldn’t she keep her hands to herself for five fucking seconds?
The plan was to go to the dining hall and eat a meal. How difficult was that to follow? For one sun-god-damned minute, it would be nice if everyone just obeyed me.
I was the captain.
I was supposed to be the one calling the shots.
Yet once again Arabella defied me.
John’s wide body completely dwarfed the women as the three of them basically mounted one another in public. They were all over one another.
Only pathetic children hugged like this.
It was embarrassing.
John’s chin rested on top of blue hair, and for a split second, he stopped making pathetic eyes down at our slave and glanced at me.
Hooded dark eyes narrowed.
Slowly, the corner of John’s mouth pulled up in a smirk as he made a show of nuzzling his chin against her curls.
I saw red.
It wasn’t from the eclipse.
He pulled Arabella tighter against his chest, and his lips moved as he whispered something only she could hear. His eyes didn’t leave mine.
John was staking his claim.
My top lip curled up with disgust because he could have her. She was nothing to us. Nothing.
Arabella let him haul her closer and melted against his chest.
My flames shot higher.
Scratch that. John could have her when I gave her away.
I’m in control, I repeated as I took a deep breath.
It was a lie, and I knew it. The slave brand controlled me.
John tilted his body to the side, and Arabella smiled up at him as he spoke. She looked at him reverently.
It was obvious what was happening.
The House of Malum was bound to a slut.
Scorpius stiffened next to me, and his breath caught as his expression became glacial like he’d heard something upsetting.
“What did John just say?” As I asked, my chest tightened because I didn’t want to know the answer.
Scorpius gritted his teeth. “He told her he loves her.”
The pressure in my chest became an avalanche.
Love. A made-up word that males used to manipulate women. A childish delusion. A joke.
It meant nothing.
Loyalty and devotion were tangible actions that could be shown. Soul bonds were real.
Love was not.
It was just a word.
I stomped over and snarled at them, “Stop humping each other. You’re causing a scene.”
They pulled apart, and I pulled out my chair roughly, the wood creaking as I threw myself down.
The rest of my team followed my lead and sat down.
I pulled out Orion’s seat for him and concentrated on fussing over my Revered. His usual golden skin was pale as he stared at where John still had his arm hanging over Arabella’s shoulder. He was probably saying more meaningless words.
I cleared my throat loudly.
Finally, John and Sadie pulled away.
When Arabella settled into her seat across from Scorpius, the ache in my muscles didn’t relax.
The tension mounted.
Because every few seconds, Arabella flashed John a wide, toothy grin.
She practically radiated bliss. Laughed. Smiled.
Like she didn’t have a care in the world.
Like she hadn’t been in mangled pieces two days ago.
And since today the universe was conspiring to test my patience, three male students approached our table.
From their green clothes, they were pathetic commoners.
And because the universe was conspiring to make me lose control and go on a murdering rampage, the three men stopped in front of our slave.
Orion made a sound of disgust and leaned over to describe them to Scorpius. “Three men just approached her. All of them have their hair dyed blue. They are wearing caps on their ears like they want to be fae. From their pathetic statures, they’re a minor species from the Olympus realm.”
Scorpius scoffed.
In a turn of events no one saw coming, the three fae wannabes fell to their knees and bowed before Arabella. “Your Highness, we wanted to welcome you formally to the academy. Where we are from, we worship the fae.”
The royal students, whose table was closest to our table, turned to stare at the spectacle.
Arabella turned bright red. The color clashed horribly with the green-and-blue bruises covering her face.
“Um, thanks, guys,” she said awkwardly.
Next to her, John put his hand over his mouth and shook with laughter.
The fake fae idiots smiled at her words like she was a goddess.
They spoke in unison and said, “We give you our service. The throne of death has turned black for you for the first time in centuries. You are even more powerful and ruthless than your mother and are the only ruler we will accept.”
Arabella blanched.
“Well, th-th-that’s good,” she stuttered and stared down at her plate like she was desperate to be anywhere but talking to them.
They smiled like puppies.
One man grabbed Arabella’s hand and pressed his lips aggressively to her still-healing fingers.
John stopped laughing and glared at him.
I made a mental note to remove the man’s lips.
“Get your filthy mouth off her,” I snarled, and Orion nodded. Scorpius bared his teeth as he realized what was going on.
The fake fae idiot didn’t move. He just stared at Arabella like I hadn’t even spoken.
I released a little pressure.
His lips lit on fire.
I smirked as he yelped and stumbled backward while slapping his face.
“Really, Malum.” Arabella rolled her eyes. “Was that necessary?”
The other’s eyes widened. “Our Highness defends us to the kings. She is not only powerful but kind.”
“Um.” Arabella pursed her lips. “Sure?”
“Don’t forget she’s also gorgeous!” Sadie yelled from the table next to ours.
The royal students who were following the unfolding spectacle chuckled.
I hated the red-eyed bitch. Could she not keep her mouth shut for five seconds?
“Of course, Our Highness is the fairest of them all.” The third blue-haired idiot nodded. The fact that they’d clearly dyed their hair to match hers was beyond ridiculous. Who did that?
Arabella covered her face with her hands and sucked aggressively on her pipe.
I scoffed. “She’s covered in bruises and looks like shit.”
It was the truth.
She’d never looked worse.
“She’s strong and beautiful,” the idiot whose lips were still smoking snarled at me.
“It’s not your place to say,” Scorpius sneered. “A pathetic commoner like yourself should shut his fucking mouth and learn his place.”
Both my mates leaned forward like they were going to leap across the table and attack.
“Leave, you’re causing a commotion,” Vegar snapped at the men as black lines expanded under his eyes.
I nodded in agreement.
Lately the demons seemed to be the only rational people.
But of course, the three men ignored him and kept staring at their queen.
I debated the merits of lighting them fully on fire. No one would care if they were gone. I could tell.
“Thanks for—” Arabella waved her hand in the air. “—whatever this was. But you can go back to your seats. I, uh…” She trailed off like she was searching for the right words. “Appreciate your devotion to the crown.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” They dropped into a fresh round of bowing. “We will defend your honor to the school.”
Finally, they walked away and left us.
The rest of the meal was a test of my already frayed patience.
John cracked jokes about Arabella’s honor while she laughed back and made comments about finally getting the recognition she deserved.
When the debacle of a meal was finally over, I nearly screamed with relief.
I’d said earlier that we needed to train, but from the way Orion and Arabella both swayed on their feet, what we needed was more rest.
As we passed the other legion tables on our way out, the angel with heterochromia muttered something under his breath.
Scorpius leaned closer. “He just called her ‘sinful blood.’ Any idea what that means?”
I shook my head and made a mental note to question him.
Did he know something about Arabella, besides the tattoo, that would explain why our mating song was quiet?
“What are we doing now?” Vegar asked me when we were in the hall.
“Rest,” I said.
Arabella sighed. “Thank the sun god.” And John high-fived her.
With every step back to our room, I regretted my decision.
Crack.
Lightning illuminated John and Arabella. Arms thrown over each other’s shoulders, they walked in tandem. Leaned on each other. Whispered in each other’s ear.
Had they always been this insufferably close? I remembered them hanging on to each other during training in the sea, and I knew they’d shared a cot, but I hadn’t realized they’d gotten so close.
It didn’t escape my notice that waiting for us in the room were only three beds because the other mattresses had been ripped into makeshift cots on the floor.
The two of them were going to be cuddling all night.
My ire mounted.
When we got to our door, I put my hands out. “Change of plans.”
Arabella tripped, and the demons looked at me warily.
I smirked. “We’re going to let off some steam.”
The other men relaxed as they realized my meaning, and they grinned back at me. Arabella was the only one who tensed.
“I’m going to the library,” she muttered and pushed past me.
I reached out and grabbed her arm. Tightened my hold so she couldn’t pass. Leaned forward and inhaled.
Her scent was sharper than usual. Colder.
Like breathing in dry ice.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins.
“No. You’re not.” My smile grew as her face registered the horror of her predicament.
The slave brand kept her close.
She turned to my Revered with big eyes and pouted. “Will you come with me to the library?”
Before Orion could fall victim to her manipulation, Scorpius grabbed him by his neck and slammed their lips together.
My Protector owned my Revered.
Consumed him.
They groaned and melted against each other.
To anyone else, it looked like two men consumed with desire for each other, but their sounds weren’t of pleasure.
They were of pain.
Two men who wanted to be together more than they wanted to breathe. Yet they couldn’t be together. Not yet.
The longer they kissed, the more my own frenzied need increased. Flames screamed in my blood for release. A fever boiled my blood.
I imagined someone softer beneath them. Wild, curly hair.
Usually, I could ignore the urge to fuck my mates because I knew it only ended in misery. The need was stronger than it had ever been.
My cock ached. The urge to rut was so overwhelming that my thighs and abs cramped.
“No, he will not.” I snarled and pressed the button on the wall that called for servants.
A man immediately appeared in the door, and I spat at him, “Tell the students the kings are willing to fuck. Only women for us. What do you want, John?”
John’s mouth opened and closed as he glanced down at Arabella quickly.
I jabbed the enchanted button harder. “John will take whoever,” I answered for him.
Arabella gaped at the door as the man hurried off. “We have a servant call button? How did I not know about this?”
No one answered her.
She muttered angrily under her breath and threw herself into her bed as the rest of us showered, put on cologne, and got ready for the night.
The women arrived quickly.
Hours later, I was pistoning my dick into the ass of a buxom royal student as Scorpius took her mouth. It was already the fourth woman we’d taken. He had a knife pressed to her throat, but his eyes were closed like he was imagining someone else.
I grunted as I snapped my hips and slammed the belt across her ass.
I kept going soft and had to stop and imagine pale skin, curly blue hair, and wide blue eyes.
Usually, I barely noticed the women under us.
They were tools that helped keep the fire in my veins from consuming me.
Their obedience was all I wanted.
For the fourth time tonight, annoyance sparked in my chest as the hips moved back against me. The woman was too short, and her boobs and ass were too big. She didn’t have any muscles.
I wanted her to be stronger. Taller. Less endowed. With more muscles. Sassier.
I wanted her to fight me, which was completely irrational because I’d always liked my women soft and pliable.
Meek.
None of the women we’d fucked had felt right. There’d been something wrong with each one of them.
I was losing my mind.
My erection began to deflate, and I focused my attention on the corner where Orion had a woman pressed against the wall. He was pounding into her like he had a grudge.
All afternoon he’d been rougher than usual.
Practically feral.
My deflating cock swelled as I watched his passion.
I slammed my hips harder into the woman beneath me, but when my balls pulled up and the familiar tightening had my ass clenching, I stopped watching my Revered.
Turned my head.
Arabella was lying upside down on John’s bed. Fully clothed with her hoodie up over her head.
John lay beside her, shirtless with his pants low on his hips.
They were taking turns blowing smoke animals and watching her deranged crow fight them.
She smiled broadly like she didn’t have a care in the world.
It seemed innocent.
Two friends hanging out.
But two hours ago, John had had his sweatpants down around his knees as a girl choked on his dick.
It hadn’t escaped my notice that Arabella had watched.
After he’d come down her throat, John had refused to do anything else with the woman, even as she begged him for it.
He’d never once refused someone, male or female, because his lust rivaled ours. And now he was lying next to our slave, looking positively chummy as he ignored the stream of men and women that came asking for his dick.
I didn’t like it.
Toxic emotions swirled in my gut as I pistoned my hips harder and focused on the way Arabella’s lips wrapped around her pipe.
She leaned her head back with her eyes closed and a grin on her lips. Her delicate neck was extended over the side of the bed as she blew out smoke.
Did she know what she looked like? What that position made me want to do to her?
I wanted to destroy her.
Orion turned his head to stare at her. The girl beneath him slapped against the wall harder.
Arabella exhaled smoke slowly, bee-stung lips hissing, and Scorpius swore as he came.
Bloodshot eyes opened.
Her gaze locked on mine, and she smiled broader.
My stomach cramped because I could tell she was faking it.
She was clearly in pain, yet she masked it. She put on a front for everyone.
For some reason the fact that she was pretending pissed me off.
She used sarcasm as a shield.
I slammed the belt down as hard as I could.
I fought the urge to grimace with disgust at the person beneath me, and I turned to glare across the room.
Arabella studied her palm with a confused expression like she found something interesting on her hand.
Then she flipped up her middle finger and glared.
Dark-blue eyes were cold as ice.
Emotionless.
I bared my teeth at her, and she smiled back at me mockingly.
My lips curved up in a genuine smile, and I couldn’t stop the chuckle that burst out.
The woman beneath me moaned annoyingly loud.
I stopped laughing.
Arabella raised her brow and shook her head as she took a long drag from her pipe. Smoke curled slowly out of her ridiculous mouth.
My balls tightened as a jolt of pleasure streaked down my spine.
Leather cracked loudly as I slammed it down.
Arabella flinched but her congenial expression didn’t fall.
I smiled back.
My expression was as fake as hers.
