The Legionnaire Games: Day 33, hour 10
Everything was numb.
I couldn’t feel my arms or legs.
Someone pushed John and me forward, and we stumbled onto the blood-soaked lawn.
The sound barrier had been restored, and it was eerily quiet.
Vision blurry, I barely made out the carnage coating the far side of the field where there was a pile of mangled wings and legs.
A buzzing sensation burned my ears.
I wiped at the substances caking my face, fingers shaking as I tried to compose myself.
Then I turned slowly to my only true friend at the academy. The man I’d cuddled with and laughed at every day.
The half a foot of height he had on me was suddenly overwhelming.
I couldn’t find the will to tilt my head up and look at his face.
I couldn’t face him.
Wind screamed as it whipped with a fervor, and I shivered. Dark clouds moved in an unusual pattern and cast the realm into shadows.
They’d said a storm was coming.
But it felt like it was already here.
Behind us the ocean roared as it crashed against the obsidian rocks of the shoreline. Salt and sulfur stained the air. Light from the eclipse tinted the world in shades of scarlet.
I reached slowly into my pocket, shoved my pipe between my lips, and inhaled smoke like it could save me. My teeth chattered around the pipe. I wasn’t cold.
We had to do this, or I’d be skewered on the sacred tree.
I took a deep breath and reached my shaking hand toward John.
To touch him.
I took a step toward him.
Nausea rose with such visceral force that I dropped my hand and took a step back, head spinning as a cold sweat dotted my forehead.
I couldn’t breathe.
Felt weaker than I’d ever felt in my life.
Closed my eyes.
How could I even consider doing the unthinkable to my friend? How dare I sacrifice him for myself? How could I be so selfish?
I was just like Mother.
“No,” I croaked out roughly. Swallowing thickly, I fell to my knees and turned my face upward to where the representative watched us on a platform. “No, I remove myself from the comp—”
A hand slapped across my lips.
It squeezed my cheeks.
John fell to his knees in front of me, and his dark eyes were intense as he leaned forward. Blood and tears stained his cheeks. Our faces were inches apart.
He opened and closed his jaws like he was trying to pop his ears, then he said, “Don’t you dare.” His voice was gravelly like he’d swallowed nails, and it sounded like he was talking underwater.
Black war paint was smudged down the side of his neck, and his dark hair was messy.
He looked ferocious.
A warrior.
I opened my lips to argue.
John pressed his hand harder against my mouth so I couldn’t say anything.
“You will not sacrifice yourself because you think you’re saving me,” he said roughly.
I shook my head.
Tried to tell him with my eyes that we couldn’t do this. That I didn’t want to. That it wasn’t worth it. To hell with the gods. He meant more to me than a little crucifixion.
John slowly leaned forward and pressed his mouth against my ear.
Underneath the sweat, copper, fear, and pain was the familiar rich scent of sandalwood. I breathed in deeply.
Even with the buzzing in my ear, John was so close that there was no mistaking what he said. “It won’t change anything between us, and I promise I consent. The only question is whether you’re okay to do this. If you want to refuse and fight the gods, then I’ll fight beside you. But don’t you dare refuse because you think you’re protecting me.”
He pulled back and flashed a dimple.
At that moment, I wished I could cry.
I wanted to sob.
John gently pushed matted curls off my forehead, his expression tender.
I kept expecting him to do his Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde routine and go quiet on me. Instead, he just kept smiling down at me like he’d do anything I asked.
He wrapped his arms around me and pressed me against his chest in a warm hug.
I squeezed him back with all my might as I trembled.
Who offered to defy the gods for their friend?
My body shook desperately.
I didn’t deserve him.
We knelt together on the grass.
“I’m willing to…” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. “But everyone’s watching,” I whispered weakly as I glanced back at the stands.
I blinked to clear my fuzzy vision; the entire academy was staring at where we knelt. Watching us.
The three kings stood closest, on the edge of the arena, with scowls on their face.
Scorpius had his eyes open, but his knees were bent, and the other kings were holding him upright.
“You’re nothing but a dirty whore. I always knew there was nothing good about you. You’re more damned than me.” Mother laughed as she snapped her fingers. The world exploded into blue flames that hurt but didn’t burn.
I squeezed John tighter to me.
If only Mother could see me now.
My life was unfolding just like she’d predicted. Was it all just one big morbid self-fulfilling prophecy?
Existence was a cosmic joke, and I wasn’t strong enough to survive it.
As I knelt in the center of the arena, clinging to John, I prayed for the haze to return. Prayed it would fast-forward time and make everything a fuzzy blur. Wished desperately for reality to become muddled.
I scrunched my eyes shut and waited.
Seconds passed, but it felt like years.
The haze never came.
I was hyperaware of every breath that expanded in my friend’s chest. The way his fingers traced circles against my back. The warmth that radiated off him.
I opened my eyes and whispered brokenly, “I can’t do this with so many people watching us.”
As I stared at the crowd, my shaking became full-body convulsions.
On the edge of the arena, Scorpius said something to Malum.
Even from afar I could see that Malum’s expression hardened as he looked at his mate, then looked at me.
He nodded.
Flames exploded.
I flinched back, and John jumped beside me, but the scalding pain never came.
The temperature skyrocketed.
It took my trauma-racked brain a second to realize that it wasn’t my mother’s flames playing in my imagination.
A tangible wall of red fire burned in the center of the field and formed a circle around John and me. It towered at least ten feet into the air.
No one could see us.
I tightened my grip around John’s neck.
Malum had given us privacy.
The pressure behind my eyes intensified. No tears fell. My heart cracked with pain as the heat warmed my sweat-soaked skin.
A part of me was grateful for the privacy, but a larger part was terrified because there were no excuses left.
The pressure on my chest became a mountain.
It felt like I was dying.
John pulled me flush against his body and our hearts beat against each other.
Friend cradled friend.
Soft lips trailed across my blood-soaked neck. John kissed me gingerly like I was made of glass. Precious.
He fingered a bloody curl with his red stained fingers.
We bled the same.
“I’ll take care of you, Aran, I promise,” he whispered reverently as he touched me like he wanted to.
Streaks of pain lanced across my spine.
“Do it quickly, please,” I begged, hyperconscious that the more pleasure he gave me, the more pain I’d experience.
If we were going to do this, it needed to be quick.
I knew what was to come. It was going to be agonizing.
I trailed my fingers down the outside of John’s tight black shirt, and the ridges of his stomach muscles tensed beneath my fingers. I paused when I neared his waist.
Sun god, I can’t do this.
John kissed along my jawline and nibbled at the sensitive skin. Spots blinded my vision.
Then his lips pressed against mine.
They parted.
He exhaled softly, the minty taste of his toothpaste familiar and welcoming.
His tongue swept forward, and I opened wider.
Callused hands cradled my face like I was precious. The softness of his kiss made my head spin.
It was like we were kissing away our last breaths.
My tongue swept tentatively against his, and he groaned into my mouth like I’d done something horribly wanton.
His thumbs swept up and down over my cheekbones. He traced the outline of my eyes, and my lashes fluttered against his fingers.
The ringing in my ears intensified, and everything became clearer as pleasure and pain spiked in concert. The world was crisp around me.
A wall of fire danced around us.
The flames warmed the chilly air and made the temperature comfortable.
John kept tracing his fingers across my eyelids like he was caressing a lover. Like we weren’t faking it for a competition. Like he adored me.
He kissed me passionately.
The urge to cry intensified.
“Please, quickly,” I begged and fisted his shirt.
John’s hands trailed downward to my waistband, and they lingered on my lower belly. I made a noise in the back of my throat as I wanted something I’d never known.
Can he tell I have no idea what I’m doing?
My ears rang.
My vision clouded.
John breathed roughly as he spanned his hands across my lower waist and gripped me tightly.
Pain and pleasure lit my neurons.
Losing your virginity was supposed to be painful, but this seemed like another level of hell.
John yanked and he tore the front of my pants so they hung off my hips. Since there’d been no underwear in my cubby this morning, I was fully exposed before him.
John stared down at me with his pupils blown.
He grabbed my hips, and he made a low noise in the back of his throat, something between a growl and a moan.
I buried my face against his neck.
Unable to look at him.
Was it weird that I had blue curls? Didn’t men want their women fully shaved?
I was embarrassed. Ashamed. Afraid.
Fingers tipped my chin up so I couldn’t hide.
“Your beauty is otherworldly.” John’s dark eyes were intense, but he flashed a dimple like he knew I needed his smile to put me at ease.
I couldn’t stop myself from making a face.
Mother had been stunning, one of the prettiest women in all the fae realm, and she’d been awful.
I didn’t want to be pretty.
I wanted to be powerful.
I wanted to be scary.
John shook his head like he could read my thoughts, and he grinned down at me. “You’re also a curmudgeon, an angry beastie who I just want to scoop up and protect. You’re like a cute Chimera that fights for her friends and feels sympathy for her enemies. You’re my little Smurf. What did I tell you when I first met you?”
My cheeks flushed, and I tried to look away with embarrassment, but he held my chin tightly so I couldn’t.
I mumbled back self-consciously, “You said we were going to be best friends.”
John’s breath tickled my cheek as his eyes darkened. “I lied.”
“What?” I tried to pull back to look at his face, but he wouldn’t let me pull away.
John whispered, “I took one look into your psycho blue eyes, and I knew you were going to be mine.” He pressed a soft kiss to my lips and said into my mouth, “I just didn’t want to scare you away.”
I huffed as his tongue stroked against mine. “But I was a dude?” I asked unsurely.
“Yeah, a stunningly pretty dude,” John said with a grin, and I narrowed my eyes.
He nipped at my lower lip with his teeth. “Don’t be coy. You know I’m bisexual. I was playing the long game. Friendship first, then dirty amazing sex.”
A laugh burst from my lips, and he swallowed it greedily. His tongue plundering my mouth.
“So you’re not my best friend?” I asked, still slightly confused about what was happening.
John ripped his mouth away, his chest heaving beneath my hands. He growled. “No, Aran. I’m still your fucking best friend.”
I tried to hold it back, but a smile split my face. “In your dreams.”
John kissed my temple as his callused thumb stroked over my hip bone. His fingers crept lower, then he cupped me possessively with his hand.
“Who’s your best friend?” he asked roughly.
I gasped as he held me intimately.
I couldn’t speak.
John flashed his dimples. “That’s what I thought.” His fingers dipped into my core, and I moaned with pleasure.
Bent forward as my back spasmed with agony.
John pressed his lips against mine, rubbed his fingers against me, and said, “Such a perfect, scary little princess.”
It was too much.
Ecstasy mixed with agony.
It was overwhelming.
I didn’t know what to feel.
“Please just get on with it,” I said desperately.
John was trying to make it good for me, but he didn’t know it wasn’t possible.
I begged, “Please, now.”
I scooched my hips forward so my core was pressed against his hardness. Practically sitting on his lap, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face into his chest. I couldn’t look at him.
“Are you okay with this, Aran?” John whispered. “We can always fight them to the death.” He winked.
“I’m okay, if you’re okay?” I mumbled into his skin.
“Oh, I’m okay.” John pressed featherlight kisses to both my temples. His voice was a gravelly rasp. “Lift up your hips, bestie.”
I relaxed against him and obeyed.
This was my friend, and I was safer with him than any other man in the universe. That mattered.
“So perfect,” John praised.
A hardness was pressed against me.
I breathed roughly and bit down on the fabric across his chest. John moved both his hands until they grabbed my butt. He squeezed, and his nails dug into my skin as he supported me like I weighed nothing.
John moaned against my neck, “Fuck, Aran, you’re so precious.” He kissed and nipped at my sensitive skin.
I trembled with ecstasy, then shuddered as stabbing pain streaked down my back.
And I just knew.
It was going to hurt so badly.
John slammed his powerful hips forward, and I bit down on his pec to hide my scream.
The pleasure was so good.
The pain was so much worse.
It felt like he was splitting me in two.
John immediately stopped moving. “You okay?” He peppered kisses against my closed eyes, my nose, then my cheeks.
I bit down on my lower lip as shock waves rolled through me.
“Please, you’re killing me.” He kissed the corners of my mouth. “Speak to me, Aran.”
I shivered as he said my name like it meant something special to him. Like he was devoted to me.
“I’m fine, dude,” I said shakily as I tangled my fingers in his messy hair. “You can keep going.” Please get this over with quickly.
John groaned roughly, “No. I need. Let you. Adjust.”
The overly full sensation of him seated deep inside me made it feel like someone was dragging a knife down my spine.
Pain blinded my vision, and everything went fuzzy.
It was agony.
John’s arms were wrapped around my shoulders protectively.
It felt like a hot knife was being jammed into my shoulder blades and twisted until my skin ripped off.
I was in hell.
“Just go, please. Finish it quick,” I gasped and tried to convey with my tone what I couldn’t put into words.
John must have heard the desperation in my voice because his arms tightened, and he pistoned his hips and moaned with pleasure.
I bit down on my lip to stifle a scream.
“Fuck, how are you this perfect?” he moaned as he bounced me roughly on his lap.
I tasted blood, and it took everything in me not to fall apart and shove him away.
It was so painful.
John shuddered and held me tight as he pulsed deep inside me. Wetness flooding between us.
Thank the sun god. It was over.
“Aran,” John moaned as he rubbed circles on my lower back.
He didn’t say anything else, and neither did I.
The white spots receded from my vision, and the sensation of being skewered alive slowly dissipated.
The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming.
“Are you okay?” John pulled himself out of me as he kissed my forehead, his arms still wrapped around me. “Please talk to me.”
I panted and whispered a shaky, “I’m fine.” My face warmed as I whispered, “was it good for you?”
John made a pained noise as he peppered delicate kisses across my nose. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”
His fingers traced a soothing pattern across my back, which was having the unintended consequence of causing little blips of pain.
It hurt but I didn’t tell him to stop because I didn’t want him to.
His fingers stopped moving.
He stiffened.
I pulled back to see what had made him pause.
I followed his gaze.
He was staring down at his lap, and it was covered in streaks of pink.
Mortification churned my gut, and I prayed a pillar would randomly fall over and crush me to death.
John slowly looked up at me. “Aran.” His dark eyes hardened as he realized what I’d given him.
All traces of a smile slipped off his face.
He looked enraged.
No. No. No. This can’t be happening. Is he mad at me? Pissed that I was a virgin?
I smacked him on the arm casually and forced myself to laugh. “Don’t make it weird, dude.”
It’s weird. I could feel him dripping out of me.
“I’m going to kill the gods,” John muttered, then took a deep breath and tucked a stray curl behind my ear.
“These things happen.” I shrugged with a casualness I didn’t feel.
John’s expression was intense. “No. They don’t. Not like this. They never should have made you do this.”
I grimaced and stared at the ground.
Great, now he definitely thought I’d been a virgin loser saving myself for marriage or something embarrassing like that.
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “I would have done it with tons of other men, but things got in the way. So, seriously, don’t make it weird.”
“Things” equaled an enchanted knife. “The way” equaled my back.
John stiffened. “Tons of other men, you say?” he asked with feigned casualness.
I grimaced. Maybe I’d laid it on a little too thick. Still, there was nothing to do but double down. “Oh, please, you don’t know what kind of seduction skills I have.”
John raised one eyebrow. “I hate to point out the obvious, but clearly not great ones, seeing as you were…” He waved at his lower half.
I smacked his chest as John grabbed my shoulders and started shaking me back and forth.
Great. John was having an episode.
He said dramatically, “I’m quaking at the sight of these seduction skills.”
Something warm and gooey exploded in my chest because he was treating me like he always did.
I laughed as he shook me and said, “Big talk coming from a guy who came in two minutes.”
“Hey, you told me to.” John’s olive cheeks flushed pink as he stopped shaking me and mumbled under his breath, “You felt insane. You have no idea how hard it was.”
“That’s what she said.”
A long moment passed as we both processed the fact that I’d repeated a ridiculous, childish joke. I blamed Sadie. There’d been a span of three weeks where that was the only joke she told.
“Really.” John shook his head like he was disappointed in me. “I thought you were more mature than that.”
We stared into each other’s eyes.
I cracked first.
Giggling like a maniac, I smacked him on the arm, and he smacked me back harder.
After a light spat of hitting each other, I wiped red-and-black streaks off John’s face and said, “Seriously, thank you so much for doing that. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me.” I paused. “Bestie.”
John smirked lasciviously. “So you agree I’m your best friend.”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t say that—”
Lyla’s voice echoed loudly through the arena. “The punishment is complete.” She sounded annoyed, like she couldn’t believe she was having to make an announcement.
John and I grimaced at each other and pulled our clothes back into place.
I’d forgotten we weren’t alone in the middle of a random field, just having fun together.
He was the only person who could make me so comfortable.
Sun god, I’d forgotten I was experiencing the most embarrassing moment of my life. Who did that?
We sat together and waited, but the wall of fire shielding us didn’t go away.
John stood up with me in his arms (I was impressed with his core strength), and he yelled, “Corvus, cut the flames!”
There was a long pause.
“I can’t,” our captain shouted back, and he sounded embarrassed.
John swore under his breath.
The next thing I knew, John was sprinting forward with me in his arms. He leaped through the wall of fire and tilted his body in midair so he protected me from the heat.
Somehow, we landed on the other side mostly unscorched.
I patted out a small flame kindling in John’s hair.
He turned so his back was to everyone and they couldn’t see me.
Servants ran past us, toward the fire, with buckets of water.
Over John’s shoulder, the academy students, legions, and judges stared at us.
“Fuck them,” John said under his breath.
I gripped his shirt and nodded. “Fuck them.”
We didn’t say another word as we rejoined our legion, and I didn’t look anyone in the eyes.
Even the kings had nothing to say.
And it felt…
Like everything had changed.
