It becomes eerily still within the Pit as the drummers lining the top rim of the audience seating clash their sticks against their drums. Generating a fast beat that vibrates the air and pulses through the floor under my boots as they announce the start of the Champion's Game. The rhythm they create isn't long but it's enough to cause my heart to sync to their rapid beat.

Even when the drummers stop, the abrupt ending echoing throughout the Kingdom, eagerness keeps my heart thumping the same quick beat. It's been so long since I've been allowed free range of my magic that the prospect of getting to use the full spectrum of it sends a jolt of excitement racing through my veins.

Unfortunately, the majority of my competitors behind me don't seem to share the same enthusiasm as me. Their uncertainty and stress loosen their hold over their magic resulting in it bleeding out of them. The multitude of different magic thickens the air to the point I can almost feel it tickling the back of my neck.

The gravity of the situation must finally be settling in as Roarke guards spill into the Pit before taking up positions on the outer ring. The emblem of a shield stands out against their light leather armor as each one slams a full-body metal shield down in front of them. The same rune is carved into the surface of each one and though I couldn’t be bothered to learn every name of the hundreds of runes in existence, I know this one acts as a nullifier. Their goal is to hopefully contain the chaos about to transpire.

King Roarke brings the attention back to him as he loudly calls out to the few guards still standing behind him. Everyone quietly watches as they begin pushing servant girls and boys I haven’t noticed until now down the few steps that lead to the front of the platform where the King is standing. Some are in shackles while a few hold on to heavy-looking chests filled with whatever was thought valuable from whichever Kingdom presented it as their reward. Slightly dreading this next part, my eyes jump back to Ax as he uses a gentle grip on Ara’s elbow to help lead her down to join the others. All the while, my fierce friend glares at her father with such intense hatred that even the psychotic king finds it hard to keep prolonged eye contact with her.

“Gentlemen, your prize,” he announces as he creates a dramatic wave of his hand to show off the line of slaves and riches lined up behind him. I want to chuckle at the deliberate way he addresses only the men competing within the games but since he follows it up with a glare pointed at me I hold it in. Instead, I keep my face devoid of anything but boredom which deflates some of that smirk plastered across his face as he doesn't get the response he wanted from me. He prolongs that glare for another moment before turning back to the crowd.

“For those of you who haven’t heard of The Hunt, there are just three stages for this particular game,” the King explains, drawing out a small cheer from the crowd. “First comes the purge; a fight to the death to thin out the herd. Second, comes the actual hunt; where for five continuous days a twenty-man hunting party from each Kingdom will actively try to kill everyone. If, by some miracle, anyone is alive on the fifth night the twin moons of Neoma and Esmeray rise, they will be given the location of prizes. Then it’s an all-out race to be the first one there.”

Half the audience cheers while the other stomps their feet on the ground, creating a cacophony of noise that has my ears ringing and I barely hear the King shouting the fours words I’ve been waiting for.

Let the Games begin.

My magic instantly rains down a shower of dark violet bolts of lighting in a three-foot radius around me, creating a protective barrier that allows me a few extra seconds to meet Ara’s green gaze again. Knowing I don’t have much time left with her, I reach up and tap my two fingers against my heart, reminding her once again that I’m here for her. Ara can only smile in response to the promise since her hands are still bound but that’s more than enough for me.

I suck in a fortifying breath once the grey mist of magic begins forming at her feet, rising unnaturally fast before it clings to her body. Hopelessness gnaws on my insides as I watch the magic creep up her legs and the moment I lift my eyes I find the same emotion dominating her green depths. She tries to keep her smile in place to most likely reassure me everything is going to be alright but the corner of her lips wobbles. Her unconscious tick tells me how afraid she really is inside, and I instinctively move towards her. The need to protect her overrides my every thought, but she stops my next step with a tiny jerk of her head.

Reminding me that I’m now bound to the game’s magic just as much as she is.

My frustration flows out in a long growl that vibrates my throat at the reminder that both of our lives will be forfeited if I tried freeing her before the game ends. The magic created for the games might be neural as a way to keep things fair between the Kingdoms but that just makes it so much worse. It doesn’t discriminate or empathize with either tribute or competitor. Once someone is pledged in -whether of their own accord or not- they can’t escape until the game is over or they are killed instantly.

Hence why I’m down here in the Fighter’s Pit instead of up there slicing the King’s throat right now. My choices were limited once she was made a tribute over a month ago and the magic connected itself to her life. Only the person that controls the tribute can pull them from the games before it begins, or like previously mentioned: Death. There’s also that unfortunate clause that if the ruler dies before the end of the game, so does their tribute. That way people, like me in this case, can’t just come along and start slitting throats to gain ownership of the tributes.

So it was either wait to kill the winner or be the winner.

And I’ll be damned if I allow anyone to think they have ownership of Ara for even a second.

I dig my fingers into my palm as I’m forced to watch as the mist continues slithering up over her chest and up her neck. With our time quickly running out, I lift my eyes again to connect with Ara’s and try praying to Nasya again for that miracle, but I can still see the mist traveling up over her lower face. Consuming her jaw, lips, cheeks, before ultimately cutting off our connection completely as she fully disappears.

A bright flash of light dominates the entire arena, blinding everyone for a brief second, before things clear again. My eyes intently seek out Ara but it’s fruitless since the magic’s taken her and the other tributes to a secure place while the games commence. However, I do find someone else standing in the empty spot.

Shiny blood-red metal monopolizes my attention as King Roarke grins gleefully down at me as he soaks up the sight of me losing control. Yet, it’s slightly ironic that what he seems to find so amusingly weak will turn out to be something that’ll inevitably decimate his existence from this world.

After all, I tend to become a little homicidal when I lose control.

I barely hide the jerk of surprise when a band of heat encircles my waist, feeling as if someone was grabbing me from behind. I look over the King’s shoulder at Ax who hasn’t moved an inch since walking Ara down to be presented as one of the prizes. His lush lips are pressed tightly together to suppress the burning anger blazing within his blue eyes and I lift an eyebrow in a silent inquiry as to what he wanted. The side of his pressed lips twitch from the action and the temperature around my waist goes up a few notches in warning before cooling back to the comforting warmth.

Interesting. I’ve always known it irritated General Control Freak when I did that among my other bratty gestures but he’s never reprimanded me before. This new development, though interesting, is a little too distracting for my current predicament. So I ignore it the best I can as I wait for him to enlighten me on what was so important he had to interrupt my stare down with the King.

His heat shifts against my waist and I notice it gathering more on my left side, indicating for me to turn, so I follow his nonverbal command to find Enno standing right outside my wall of lighting. His abnormally bright green eyes inspect the violet bolts with an overly captivated fascination as he reaches up to lightly run a finger across the barrier. The action disrupts the continual vertical channels of lighting with a quickly fading horizontal line of red sparks that flashes a red glow against his slightly pale skin.

He whispers something too low for me to make out before slamming his hand fully into my barrier. A violent tremor ripples up his arm as my magic attacks but instead of jolting back, Enno lets out a deep, guttural moan. The sound creates a visceral response from the darkest part of my soul, leaving me slightly breathless as he pulls his hand back until just his finger touches the surface again. A manic smile stretches across his face as he begins to slowly stalk the rim of my barrier. His finger sliding against the bolts, igniting the red sparks as he moves along.

“Bellamy Evimer,” he calls out before making a couple of clicking sounds with his tongue. An arched eyebrow is my only response to the over-the-top display of him acting like he’s reprimanding me for something. “Tell me, were you the one fucking our dear sweet Princess?”

“No,” I simply state as he slowly passes in front of me, his pace never faltering as he continues to circle my shield. Like with Ax earlier, I don’t fall for the Alpha bullshit by following his movements, but keep my gaze locked straight ahead with my arms laying relaxed by my side. Unease might stab along the nerves of my back as he keeps moving, but I’ll never allow an ounce of it to show.

“So you’re not fucking her and yet,” he lets the sentence hang as he stops in front of me, “here you are.” With his body now taking up my view, I finally look up to meet his bright eyes. I’ve never been this physically close to Enno since he has an affinity for stabbing random people within reach, so I’m surprised to find an outer ring of dark blue bleeding into the green.

It's weirdly mesmerizing the effect it makes and seeing them up close actually answers one of the many questions I've had about him for a while now. It was always a mystery to me how he could continuously capture people's attention even after knowing about his abilities, but it’s plainly obvious now. They have this strange beauty to them that just pulls you in whether you want them to or not.

They're pretty hypnotic actually, I think as my gaze stays locked with his. The green pulsing brighter and brighter as a weightless feeling erupts inside my chest.

Feeling as if I was falling.

Heat spreads across my bottom lip, distracting me long enough to realize my mistake. I quickly slam mental barriers around my mind to keep Enno’s magic from sinking deeper.

That was fucking stupid, Bells. You're in the games for all of five minutes and you almost allowed the worst of the worst to mind rape you.

I add a few extra layers of protection just to be sure, all the while still maintaining our eye contact. He might have affected me for a moment but I won’t show him how close he was to entrapping me by looking away.

“You are fascinating,” Enno rasps out, his voice dropping deeper and deeper until he’s almost purring out the last syllable. He pulls his finger away from my barrier, finally cutting off the sparks that distorted his image from my side. My fingers twitch with anxious energy as he drops his eyes away as he brings his hand up to hold in front of his face to inspect the damage done by the prolonged contact with my magic.

I glance over to his hand to see that the tip of his finger is burnt black from my magic, and as I lower my gaze I notice the damage transitioning to a dark red blister that travels down the back of his hand and to the inside of his palm.

Once again, Enno disregards any normal response a normal person would have at seeing their body part destroyed and he runs his tongue up the back of his hand and over the burnt flesh. I have to force myself not to outwardly cringe as I think about how fucking disgusting that must taste but he doesn’t seem to mind. He just closes his eyes and proceeds to stand there, hand still in front of his face, as a wide smile pulls his lips away from his teeth to show off how sharp his canines are.

I wait for him to do something else fucked up but when he remains unmoving I grow impatient. “Are you just planning on standing there licking yourself through the entire Purge?”

A deep chuckle rumbles out of him as he finally opens his eyes to immediately connect with mine. I ignore the goosebumps that slide down my arms from the sound and motion with my hand in an I’m waiting gesture.

“Are you planning on hiding behind your magic through the entire Purge?” he throws back sarcastically to which I let loose my own chuckle. It catches him by surprise as his head tilts to the side in curiosity. I move a few steps forward, placing myself mere inches from him with only the barrier keeping us from touching, and reach up to run a finger across the surface as he did.

“Who said I was hiding?” I remark as the magic sparks to life between us with such veracity that I feel a smile playing across my face.

“Oh do tell,” he says as his green eyes pulse with magic as his excitement grows, “what are you doing in there, Sweet Evimer?”

“Waiting,” I answer while inspecting the intensity of the lighting flashing inside the barrier. “Just needed a little extra oomph to get shit moving along.”

Needing to test the energy levels, I slam my hand against the barrier to create a shower of red sparks to dance around me. I pull my hand away from the wall and hold it up so some of the sparks land on my palm. The magic instantly seeps into my skin, ripping a gasp from me as it blazes a fiery path up my arm until it settles like hot coals inside my chest.

Oh, this is going to hurt.