woman was determined to take over his house and hold.
But he didn’t care.
The thought of it made him smile.
What he didn’t know was that on the other side of the door, Diantha was smiling, too.
Chapter Eight
The Bear was pacing again.
It was another warm night in the Highlands as Magnus stood at one end of the arena and the Bear stood at the other. It was the ultimus bout, the last one of the night, and the crowd had been prepared for it.
They were on their feet now because Magnus had entered the arena after the Bear, a privilege reserved for the Ludus Caledonia’s elite warriors. There wasn’t a man or woman in the stands who wasn’t somewhat drunk because they had been drinking all evening, betting on fights, and waiting with great anticipation for the very last one.
It had finally arrived.
Magnus soaked up the adoration of the crowd like he always did. It was something that fed him, nurtured him, and gave him the very foundation of the arrogance for which he was known. The spectators knew he was great, he knew he was great, and everyone was in agreement. Magnus looked up to the crowd, acknowledging them with a mere glance, and it drove them mad.
Already, coins were raining down on the arena floor and the two servants that Magnus employed to collect that money were running out onto the field, grabbing at the money. At the edge of the arena where it joined up with the staging area, Magnus could see his friends and supporters standing there—Lor, Bane, Galan, Axel, Wendell, and another doctores named Milo Linton. Even Tay was with them, watching the crowd, watching the Bear, and feeling some trepidation just like the rest of them.
This was the bout that everyone, including those who ran the Ludus Caledonia, had been waiting for.
The Bear was pacing in circles now, beating his chest and roaring, going through some kind of ritual meant to work himself into a frenzy. Magnus was busy pulling on what amounted to fingerless leather gloves, meant to protect his hands yet leave his fingers free to work. He bent down and scooped up some of the dirt of the arena floor, sprinkling it onto the gloves to give them better traction. He was pretending to be busy when what he was really doing was watching the Bear in his periphery.
He was watching every move the man made.
As he busied himself, he caught sight of Axel as the man made his way out onto the arena floor. As the manager of the Ludus Caledonia, he was permitted everywhere at any time, even in the arena before a bout started. Axel von Rossau was an enormous man, Saxon by birth, with skin as dark as tanned leather and bright-blue eyes. He was a ferocious fighter, as Magnus had seen on occasion, and he was greatly respected by all as a fair and just man, if not quite hard. As he came near, Magnus continued busying himself.
“Eagle,” Axel said in his heavy Germanic accent, “I came to give you some advice.”
Magnus didn’t look up from his gloves. “I am listening.”
Axel’s gaze drifted to the opponent across the arena. “He is going to try to kill you,” he said. “I have not been told this, it is simply a feeling I have. I have seen enough men to know what is in his heart and on his mind. He will kill you if he can.”
Magnus nodded his head as he finished with the gloves. “I trust ye,” he said. “It is my intention tae take him out immediately. I willna toy with this one. He smells my blood.”
“He does indeed,” Axel said. “If you do not disable him at the first, it will go badly for you. A wounded bear is a dangerous thing.”
“I know.”
Axel paused. “You should also know something else,” he said. “Your friends have decided that if the Bear harms you in any way, they will swarm the field and destroy him.”
Magnus’s head snapped up. “Tell them that if they do, I’ll never speak tae them again,” he said. “This is my fight. I’m not a weakling who needs others tae fight my battles.”
Axel smiled faintly. “You need to learn the difference between men believing you to be weak and men wanting to protect their friend,” he said. “They know you are not weak.”
“Then tell them to stay away.”
Axel cocked his head. “Let me ask you a question,” he said. “If it was Lor or