I have stood beside Her, not for my own pleasure, but for Her aid exclusively.” He pointed at the competitors. “These men have witnessed our affection, can attest to our unshakable bond, for we are united not just as Rulers of Thessen, but by the love that only a father and Daughter can share.”
Tobias’s mind drifted, counting the instances he had seen the Sovereign and The Savior in a room together before this moment. Once? Twice, maybe?
“My Daughter is a Woman forced to grow without a Mother,” the Sovereign spat. “I am all She has. I ended the man who took Her Mother. Do you think for a second I would allow anyone to cross Her?”
Garrick stammered, “Y-Your Highness, please—”
“Enough! You’ve lied to me. I can overlook that. But I cannot overlook the pain you’ve caused my Daughter. Her heart breaks because of you. Inconsolable, because of you. Weak, even in this moment. Because of you.”
“I’m so sorry—”
“Look at my Daughter,” the Sovereign barked. “You vowed to die for Her. And today, you honor that vow.” His gaze shot toward the back of the arena. “Guards!”
Three guards sprang from the perimeter, shouldering the competitors out of their path and grabbing Garrick. He thrashed in their grasp, struggling to free himself, but it was useless. Without warning, a guard thrust his spear through Garrick’s back, sending it ripping out his gut.
“Fucking shit…” Flynn croaked.
Kaleo laughed at the end of the line. “What was he expecting?”
The howling of the crowd morphed into a singular chant: “CYCLOPS. CYCLOPS.” They cheered for the Sovereign, who leaned casually in his throne, his face ripe with indifference. Anger simmered Tobias’s blood, but his rage was only a fraction compared to Leila’s; her tear-streaked cheeks made that clear.
“A warning to the men who stand before me.” The Sovereign stared right at Tobias, his glare sharp enough to draw blood. “Challenge me, and I promise your fate will make the Brave’s look like mercy.”
“CYCLOPS. CYCLOPS.” The Sovereign glanced over the pews, taking in their praise, then flicked his wrists at the men beneath him.
“Dismissed.”
***
Tobias pulled Leila against him, holding tight to her hips. Each kiss was voracious, as he was starving for her, desperate for a taste. It had never been like this before—frantic and primal—and he bit down on her pillowy bottom lip, emboldened. She moaned into his mouth, and suddenly the cool night breeze was lost on him. He was burning up.
“Tobias.” Leila’s voice was breathy against his lips. “I want more.”
They stood in the watchtower, alone save for the moon in the sky, and the way it reflected against her fair skin made her look heavenly.
“More?” he said. “What do you mean?”
“I mean...” She grabbed his hand, planting it on her breast. “I want more.”
She tugged his shirt overhead, tossing it to the floor and diving in for another kiss. Everything was moving faster than he could handle—his racing heartbeat, his lungs fighting for air—but it didn’t matter. It was all so good. Too good.
“You’re sure?”
“Tobias, I feel as though I’ve wanted you for ages.” She cupped his face. “Do you want me?”
No words formed in his throat, so he offered her a zealous nod instead.
“What if…” Leila trailed her fingertips down her neckline between her breasts, “…I undress myself, and you watch?”
Tobias stared down at her hand—and her breasts. “And then?”
“And then…” she slid her hands along his chest, “…you press me up against the wall…” her hand traveled down to his groin and squeezed, “…and you fuck me.”
Tobias’s breath caught in his throat. “Oh my God.”
Leila backed away from him, giving him a perfect view of her from head to toe. She threaded her fingers beneath the straps of her dress, pulling them down her shoulders.
Pain burst through Tobias, collapsing him to his knees. He looked down at his tortured gut, and the fire within him turned to ice.
A spear jutted from his stomach, coated in crimson.
Blood filled his mouth, tasting foul—like death. Leila’s cheeks were wet with tears, and a guard appeared behind her, his spear pointed at the small of her back.
“LEILA!”
The spear ripped through her, her screams rattling in his bones. The world around him blurred; I’m dying, and no matter how much he fought, he couldn’t delay it, couldn’t escape his end. She’s dying, and she screamed his name, “Tobias, Tobias,” as his world fell to darkness.
“Tobias.”
“Let go of me!” he spat.
His eyes shot open. He lay in bed, his sheets twisted between his legs, his hand grasping something—an