The barrier drops from around the cage and light streams in, burning my eyes. It takes a moment for my vision to adjust, to see the gray walls of the arena caging us in and the many golden-haired Draco males and females sitting in the stands rising around us.

  There’s an air of anticipation. A strange, dark tension in the atmosphere. My gut twists in foreboding as my gaze goes to Gustov on his platform above us. He stands with his hands clasped almost piously before him. I can’t see his face, but I imagine it’s arranged in a regretful expression.

  “The creatures before you are a danger to our way of life,” he says. “The Skins and the Dreki are a threat to our existence.” He doesn’t mention Sarah or her humanity. “But the biggest threat and the largest betrayal comes from within. From our own people. My most trusted commander and friend, Royce.”

  The crowd boos loudly.

  I look to Royce and note how he’s furiously scanning faces. What is he searching for? Oh…His wife and son.

  My stomach drops as an awful thought worms its way into my mind.

  “Executing these criminals is not enough,” Gustov continues. “They must serve as an example to the rebellion hidden amongst us. Through their punishment, I will illustrate to those amongst you who are working against me what you are truly putting at risk.”

  The ground below us rumbles and a square of earth drops away. This is how the wyverns enter the pit, but my instincts warn that there will be no wyverns now. At least not yet.

  Another rumble and a panel slides up. Several figures are laid out on it. Women, children, and a couple of males. They look peaceful. I’d think them asleep if not for the crimson lines cutting across their pale throats.

  My stomach knots. “No…”

  Royce drops to his knees with a raw keening sound. His men cry out and begin to weep. Their pain is sharp and powerful, pricking at my eyes and forcing my throat to bob. My chest grows tight in empathy for their loss.

  I look down at the dead bodies, then up at the shocked crowd. Pale, horrified faces look upon the scene. Fear saturates the air with a bitter tang.

  This is what he wants.

  He’s hit the resistance where it hurts the most by taking what they love the most.

  Gustov looks up at the crowd. “Let this be a lesson to the resistance. If you try to take what I love, I will do the same to you.” His voice is ice. “I will take your wives, your children, your husbands, your mothers and fathers, and I will leave you to rot in a cell with guilt and grief clawing at you.” He looks down at us. Right at Royce. “But not you. You will die today, and it will be a horrific and painful death.”

  Royce lifts his tear-stained face to Gustov. “Fuck you,” he says softly. Then louder, “Fuck you, you sadistic egomaniac!”

  His companions stand tall beside him. “Long live the resistance!”

  “Long live the resistance!” Royce yells.

  A murmur skitters over the crowd, and the atmosphere shifts. I can’t pinpoint it, but it isn’t favorable, and it isn’t aimed at us.

  Gustov must sense it too because he quickly changes tack. “Now, on to the entertainment. The games we love the most.”

  The ground shifts beneath us and the bodies are swallowed up. Royce makes a soft sound of distress in the back of his throat, and I grit my teeth.

  He’s just lost his wife and child. The brave males who stood up to injustice have lost the very people they’re fighting for, but here they stand, tall, proud, and unafraid.

  I step forward to join them and the Dreki follow. Whatever happens, we are united.

  We’ll fight hard, and we won’t go down easy.

  The ground in another spot opens and the roar and screech of wyverns rends the air. Two huge purple creatures with blue spiny backs pad into the arena, collars sparking. Venomous ones. I remember these.

  Another panel opens and two more wyverns rush into the huge space. They run at the blue backs, but their collars spark green, and they rear back heads whipping to and fro in agony.

  My heart sinks.

  They’ve been trained not to attack one another.

  They spend a few moments screeching and then fall ominously silent.

  My stomach tightens and ice fills my veins.

  “When do we get weapons?” Yora asks.

  I’m wondering the same thing. We can fight these fuckers with blades, but hand-to-jaw? No chance.

  “Today we have a new game,” Gustov says. “Today we’ll see how long our enemies can survive in a pit of wyverns with only their wits as weapons.”

  “Fuck,” Yasra says.

  The cage begins to descend, and although the crowd is silent, the wyverns go wild. We’re about to be thrown to the beasts with no way to defend ourselves. I’m a realist, so I close my eyes and summon Anya’s face.

  It might be the last time I see it.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ANYA

  We flew high, using cloud cover to try and shield ourselves from the drones. According to Vesper, the machines never went this high. It was how he’d gotten past their defenses the last time he was here looking for the key to Sector 8.

  The only reason the Dreki couldn’t attack Draco City directly was because Gustov had a power source fueling a shield that could be activated to disable a Dreki if it was within a certain perimeter. Which was why we needed to be careful. We kept our numbers low and stayed above the clouds to avoid being spotted.

  Azazel flew behind us, staying in Vesper’s shadow. I couldn’t help but marvel at how smooth he was in the air, how he rarely needed to beat his wings but glided for long stretches. His crimson scales gleamed in the sunlight and his ember eyes met mine with warmth.

  How am I doing? he asked.

  I’m impressed. You look amazing.

  The Dreki has moves, Vesper said.

  The EMP machine was strapped to Vesper’s neck, case lid open, so all I had to do was activate it. There’d be a powerful pulse and the tech in Draco City would get knocked out, giving the resistance the opportunity to take control.

  There was a reason why Gustov’s guards were so loyal to him. A reason they fought for him and died for him. Bran told me that Royce explained how tiny explosives were embedded in every Draco guard’s brain. Royce managed to deactivate several over the past few months, so the resistance grew from there, but there were still too many trapped in Gustov’s service.

  The EMP would free them.

  How close do we need to be? Vesper asked.

  About a mile out to be sure.

  Almost there, then. I can see the city.

  I couldn’t, but then I didn’t have a dragon’s vision. Still, I tensed, ready to activate the machine and find my friend.

  A gust of wind hit us, and Vesper’s wings flared, catching air and taking us higher. My breath snagged in my throat and my head spun.

  You okay? Vesper and Azazel asked at the same time.

  I’m fine.

  Vesper dropped altitude again, and I spotted the city through a break in the clouds.

  So close.

  Do you hear that? Azazel said.

  I couldn’t hear anything but the whistle of the wind and his voice in my head. What?

  I hear it, Vesper said. Shit.

  Three large, disc-shaped drones whizzed into our path, lasers on red.

  Crud. I thought they didn’t fly this high?

  Looks like Gustov upgraded.

  Watch out! Azazel yelled.

  The drones fired and Vesper tipped to a 180-degree angle to avoid a hit. I cried out, holding tight to avoid falling off. Azazel!

  I’m all right. Hold tight, Azazel called out.

  Another laser burst, but from behind this time.

  We were surrounded.

  HELGI

  My head rings with the wyverns’ screams of rage, my heart feels like it’s about to explode. I run, dodge, and leap to avoid being crushed or bitten. Wex and Yasra are with me, working as a team to minimize the wyverns’ focus on Royce and his men who aren’t as fast or strong as us. We keep the wyverns distracted best we can.

  Sarah is a smudge in my periphery, clinging to Bedi’s back as he evades the beasts. He’s hurt, though. His arm’s bleeding.

  “Helgi!” Yasra yanks me to the left in time to avoid being bludgeoned by a wyvern tail.

  It hits the ground in the spot I’ve just vacated with a crack, sending clods of earth flying to spatter my cheeks.

  I’m running again, but I’m not sure how long we can keep this up. There is no timer. No end game but our death, and the wyverns are insane with pain and rage as their collars flash from white to green when they get too close to one another. They want us dead so their pain can stop. I don’t blame them.

  I catch a glimpse of Gustov high above. I’ll kill him. If I get out of this alive, I’ll fucking kill the bastard.

  Someone screams, a high-pitched wail of agony. I spin to see blood rain from the sky. Something hits the ground, wet and heavy. It takes a moment for my brain to realize that it’s a torso with entrails dangling out.

  The dismembered Draco raises an arm, his mouth hanging open in a silent plea for aid.

  Royce lets out a bellow of rage and tries to get to his comrade, but the wyvern stamps on the torso, ending the Draco’s pain and bringing itself one step closer to ending its own.

  The crowd is silent.

  No one cheers.

  Gustov has lost his grip on his people, and he knows it. This is his revenge. His threat to them all.

  We’re not getting out of here alive.

  Not unless there’s a miracle.

  I dive and roll out of a wyvern’s reach, but two other wyverns rush me. Wex cries out in alarm and Yasra shoulder-shoves me out of the way. I hit the dirt to the sound of a sickening thud and look up in time to see Yasra toppling through the air to land across the arena with a crunch.

  Is he moving?

  No. Oh gods.

  I scramble to my feet and run full pelt toward him. “Yasra! Yasra!”

  The ground behind me shakes as the wyverns follow.

  “Anya, no!” Wex screams.

  I skid to the ground beside Yasra. His leg is twisted at an odd angle. He’s unconscious but still breathing. A sob breaks from my lips. He’s alive.

  “Yasra!” I slap him.

  He groans and looks up at me, then past me to the approaching threat. “Go!”

  I can run. I can leave him.

  But I don’t.

  I can’t.

  “I won’t leave you.” I wrap my arms around him, and he stares at me as if seeing me for the first time.

  The crowd is screaming now. Yelling at me to move, their bellows mingling with those of my comrades.

  But it’s too late. They’re almost upon us.

  My heart sinks.

  I won’t get to say goodbye to Anya.

  I’ll be leaving her alone to deal with whatever comes.

  I’m sorry…So sorry that I couldn’t make it back.

  ANYA

  The drones surrounded us, ready to fire. There was no escape.

  Azazel, flip move, Vesper ordered before dropping altitude suddenly.

  The breath rushed out of my lungs, and I hung on for dear life.

  The air behind me shifted and I looked up through teary eyes to see Azazel rush forward in a spin that had his wings slicing through the air, knocking out the drones. The machines sparked and fell to the earth.

  Let’s hope there’s no one down there, Vesper said with a chuckle.

  I stared up at Azazel. Nice move.

  Thank you.

  Vesper climbed the air, and we picked up speed toward the city.

  More drones appeared ahead of us. Crud!

  Now? My hand hovered over the controls. Please be now.

  The drones whizzed toward us, lighting up red, ready to fire.

  NOW, Vesper cried.

  I hit the button.

  HELGI

  I’m going to die.

  This is the end.

  A shock wave passes over us, blowing the hair back off my face and making my teeth rattle. The wyverns spasm to a stop and there’s a sharp snap.

  Their collars fall to the ground, and a moment later so does mine.

  The world goes deathly silent for several beats, and it hits me that this is the absence of the buzz of technology.

  This is the death of Gustov’s power.

  They did it.

  They activated the EMP, which means…

  I shoot to my feet as the epic form of a Dreki flies overhead, casting a shadow over the arena.

  Another follows, crimson scales gleaming dangerously in the sun.

  Vesper and Azazel.

  Wex lets out a whoop and punches the air.

  Yasra lets out a manic laugh.

  Then chaos breaks loose.

  The crowd screams and tries to exit the arena. I shoot a look at the balcony, but Gustov is gone.

  Royce shoots off toward the exit trailed by his men. They’ll find Gustov. There’s nowhere for him to run.

  Vesper circles and swoops low, and I catch sight of the dark-haired figure sitting atop him.

  Anya is here. My heart swells with love, pride, and so many emotions I’m unable to put into words.

  She slices at something on Vesper’s back and it falls to the ground with a crash. She follows, leaping off the Dreki and falling gracefully to land in a crouch.

  We lock gazes for a moment before running toward each other and meeting in a hug.

  “You made it,” we say in unison, then laugh.

  She pulls back and slaps me on the shoulder. “Did you miss this place that much?”

  I bare my teeth in a grin. “About as much as a hole in my head.”

  Her gaze slips over my shoulder to where Yora and Bedi are helping Yasra to his feet, his leg healed now that the collar is off. He locks gazes with me, and something passes between us. A promise of more. Of a conversation to come.

  But not now. Now we have to find Gustov and kill his ass if Royce hasn’t done so already.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  ANYA

  The doors were all open to us now. No electrical mechanism was in operation. Nothing to keep us penned in or locked out. We wove through the corridors of the arena on instinct, following the stench of blood and testosterone.

  The sound of raised voices told us we were headed in the right direction, and soon the white corridors gave way to a courtyard built for leisure. Gustov stood surrounded by Royce and his men. He had a gun and swung it from person to person, trying to ward them off.

  He was a cornered animal. Alone. No sign of his personal guard or his wife.

  “Stay back. I will shoot you,” Gustov said to Royce.

  “Do you think we care if we live or die?” Royce spat. “You killed the only tethers we had to this world. We have nothing left to lose.”

  Royce and his men advanced.

  Gustov took a shot, but it flew wide. “Stop!” he ordered. “Stop right there.”

  “He killed their families,” Helgi said, low and gruff. “But look at him now. He’s nothing. Weak and old and scared.”

  She was right. Without his guards, without his army, Gustov was just an evil old man.

  “Stay back!” He took another shot. “You don’t understand what you’ve done. You’ve left us defenseless against them.”

  “The Dreki mean us no harm,” Royce snapped.

  “Not the Dreki, you fool. The old gods.” Spittle flew from his lips. Funny how he was now afraid of the Jotunn when all he’d wanted to do was allow them to rise so he could seduce them into joining forces with him. He’d done everything in his power to stop the Dreki from finding the grimoire, including killing Anara. The man was truly insane. “They’ll kill us all, our only hope—”

  Angry screeches cut off his words. The world went dark. The Draco cursed and fell back as four wyverns landed in the courtyard around Gustov, penning him in with scales and claws.

  “No!” Gustov shot at them, but the bullets bounced off their scales harmlessly. “Get away. Get away from me.”

  The wyverns growled and attacked.

  Gustov’s screams died long before the sound of tearing flesh.

  Gustov was dead. The Draco were free, whether they wanted to be or not. Royce had lost his family, but he’d gained a new purpose. To bring peace to our people and to unite us before the Jotunn arose.

  He was the new leader of Draco City and our ally.

  We’d commandeered Gustov’s personal quarters, and the pristine cream and gold décor was now stained with blood, not just ours but his wife’s too. We’d found her with her throat slit.

  Not self-inflicted, and honestly no one gave a crud about catching the killer.

  Azazel and Vesper stood by the window, as if needing to be close to the sky. Wex, Yasra, Bedi, and Yora stood by the door, and Draco guards were stationed outside. Sarah stayed close to Bedi, her hand clasped with his.

  There was a story there that I was sure I’d learn later.

  Nile and Bran had arrived shortly after us, carried by Dreki guards, and they were pissed they’d missed Gustov’s demise.

  Helgi and I sat on a soft white chaise, bodies tense and on edge because despite the fact that Gustov was gone, this still felt like enemy territory.

  “What happens now?” Helgi asked Royce.

  “We release all prisoners and reach out to our contacts in the Outlands. Let them know that it’s time to prepare for the Jotunn invasion.”

  “You have contacts in the Outlands?” Vesper asked.

  Royce’s smile was mirthless. “I’ve been building relations with certain mercenary factions for some time now.”

  “What factions?” Nile asked.

  “The Blackthorn,” Royce said.

  Bran let out a low whistle. “Now those would be good to have on board.”

  “And who are they?” Azazel asked.

  “Assassins,” Bran said. “Excellent ones.”

  Royce had prepared for war, and he’d lost the very people he’d been fighting for, yet here he was, still willing to fight. For us. For his people. I had nothing but respect for the male.

 

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