Shadow's Claim(77)

Trehan clutched his sword hilt, fury burning inside him. Control your anger. Control your instinct.

His rational mind knew Caspion had no fated claim on Bettina. After this conversation, Trehan also knew that the demon didn't feel love for her-at least, not romantic love.

But his heated instincts still demanded satisfaction, a swift death as punishment. Since encountering Bettina, Trehan had been inundated with a ferocity unlike any he'd ever known.

Control . . . control. Inhale. Exhale.

The horn blared then. Ignoring Caspion, Trehan turned his attention to Gourlav, due to fight the young animus demon this round.

Gourlav eased his massive body to his feet. Had he been slow to move initially? Had his primordial joints creaked?

Or was he feigning weakness?

Instead of tracing, Gourlav stomped from the sanctum to the ring, his horns scraping the top of the twelve-foot-high entryway, gouging the rock. His horns were unmarked.

The animus demon followed with leaden feet. Sweat covered the male's pallid face. When the iron gate closed behind them, he lost control of his bladder.

Trehan traced to the gate to watch the bout. Caspion made a frustrated sound and followed.

Just outside the ring, a cadre of Rune's soldiers had gathered, readying to fight Child Terrors, should any arise from Gourlav's blood. They needn't have bothered.

As the match began, so would it end-abruptly.

With one blow, Gourlav sliced his opponent from balls to scalp. Another sword strike took both halves of his victim's head.

Gourlav gave a monstrous roar to the sky then disappeared, likely returning to whatever hell dimension he ruled.

Trehan glanced at Caspion, finding the young male's eyes narrowed, his expression determined. Trehan imagined them both sharing a singular thought: I will do anything to keep that creature from Bettina.

The vampire's match was next.

Chapter 24

Once Rune's guards had cleaned up the remains of Gourlav's opponent-who'd been halved like ripe fruit-Daciano and the troll entered the ring.

The vampire was dressed all in black, again in tailored pieces of obvious expense. Bettina alone knew what he concealed beneath those garments.

His unique sword was at his side. His one cold weapon.

The troll was at least a dozen feet tall, wearing what looked like the largest-and rattiest-toga Bettina had ever seen. It thumped its spiked tail aggressively, but Daciano ignored his opponent, instead gazing up at her, alone at her table.

His lips were thinned with intent; she now knew how sensual they could be.

Bettina wasn't even surprised when that electric thrill coursed through her body. So she pointedly ignored him, hiding her face behind the rim of her oversize goblet.

As soon as the gate clanged shut, the troll raised his club in the vampire's direction, spitting the words: "I'm going to gut you and feed on your entrails! I'll take your head and suck on it like a sweet!"

The horn sounded. At once, the troll swung; Daciano feinted left and dodged the blow.

"And then I'll slurp from your gullet!"

Daciano moved right and struck so fast, she couldn't see the flash of his sword.

Blood began to seep around the troll's bristly neck like a crimson scarf. The creature's expression was one of shock as its body and its head crashed to the ground with all the grace of a demolished building.

The crowd went silent. She saw others around her blinking, as if they hadn't seen the fight correctly. Daciano had dispatched his opponent with one blow, and not a drop of blood on his immaculate clothing.

After a stunned moment, the Sorceri cheered.