Chapter 10

Ten

Moon

“ W hat the fuck?” I murmur, as I look around the grand ballroom. I haven’t seen Arlo or Crow since I left them both in the Orc realm. Many of the contestants have been summoned here so we can participate in this weird as fuck ball-banquet thing.

Apparently, this is exclusively for the players who got accepted without needing to try out. Which is more annoying than anything else. Players have been known to die, disappear, or even kill themselves during these games. The last thing I want is for a bunch of my competitors to get a chance to size me up.

But here we are. I tried to refuse, but the invitation had some kind of spell imbued, and when I said no, it changed itself to yes.

So that was really annoying.

Now here I am.

In this stunning dress that none of these people deserve to see, and high heels that might be the actual death of me. They’re just too pretty not to wear, though.

“Fucking hell, Moon.” I hear my boss grumble behind me. I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face, as I turn to see him biting his fist.

“What?” I ask with fake innocence. I know what his issue is. My dress is silver and completely see-through. The bodysuit I’m wearing under it covers the naughty bits, but you can still see my ass. The length stops at my knees, and the slit goes all the way up to my hip. The strappy high heels are black, winding up my calves, and making me about three inches taller.

“You know exactly what, you fucking demon in heels,” he hisses, and I shrug. Lust is one confusing man. Sometimes I feel like he’s fighting himself to resist me, and other times it seems like he really isn’t interested. Not that it matters when I have a Heart Bonded who should be here somewhere.

“A man who has no intention of touching shouldn't look, either,” I scold him.

“Trust me, Moon, you don’t want my touch,” he huffs, before spinning and walking away from me and further into the crowd.

“How’d you even get into the ball? It’s for the special guests only!” I snark, but Lust just keeps walking.

“I bet you’d thoroughly enjoy my touch,” Crow whispers in my ear, startling me. I throw a punch on instinct, making him grunt when it connects with his ribs.

“Stop sneaking up on me, you bastard. You’re lucky I pulled back at the last second. I may have spent years training for these games, but I also trained my body too,” I growl. I should have broken his ribs. Taught him a lesson and scared off some of the people giving me side-eye.

“My apologies, Pixie.” Crow smirks, still standing in my bubble, and much to my delight, rubbing his sore ribs. Serves him right.

“Is this her?” a song-like voice asks, and I spin to see a woman so beautiful it steals my breath. Long, cascading blonde hair, and big blue eyes so bright they look like crystals. She wears a small tiara, and I can see her pointed ears peeking out of her hair. She holds herself with grace, and the look she gives me is assessing, but not unkind.

“Indeed,” Crow says, and as I look between them, their resemblance becomes obvious. “Moon, meet my sister, Genevieve.”

“You can call me Evie. Only my brother insists on using my full name,” she says, as she holds her small hand out for me to take.

“It’s a beautiful name. I chose it myself.” He straightens his back as he says this, making me frown.

“You chose your sister's name?” I question, and Crow nods once.

“Our mother died in childbirth, and our father refused to care for Genevieve,” Crow says, as a darkness falls over his features.

“Crow has always been more like a father to me, than a brother,” Evie adds, not seeming the least bit bothered by that fact.

“Fuck. That's… Wait, how old are you both?” I ask, trying to guess based on their looks.

“Crow is thirty, and I am eighteen. Crow is still considered young among our people, but far less insane.”

“Youth and insanity are common for Elves?” I ask, and Evie snorts.

“Youth and carelessness along with the reckless ability to find trouble are common.” She winks.

“Right. So, when can I leave?” I ask, wanting to get the fuck out of the Elven realm. There’s a weirdness in the air that I can’t quite name. Maybe, murderous intent?

“At the end of the night. Eventually, the Elven King will come out and welcome the contestants.” Crow looks around the room, and I don’t like how on edge he seems to be.

“Let's go, brother. You’ll have time to woo the Witch later,” Evie says, as she locks her arm with his and starts pulling him away. I wave to them both as they make their way through the crowd, but I notice Crow keeps his eyes on me.

Cato

“Why are you stalking the purple-haired Witch?” Odas asks, and I hate the smile I hear in his voice.

“I’m not,” I grunt, not liking that he’s forcing me to speak in a crowded room. Odas is taller than I am, and I'm over six-four. His black hair is cut short. Brown eyes so dark they’re almost black, and his brown skin is darker than my tanned skin.

“Oh, but you are. In fact, you’ve marked her with your scent twice now…”

“I have not.” I spin, hating how smug he looks right now. He’s pleased that he’s caught me slippin’ up. I’ve managed to control myself for many decades now. Then I saw her in the crowded banquet.

“I feel it too,” he whispers, as he looks past me and toward the woman who caught my attention as soon as she stepped into the room. She’s breathtaking in that dress, and the overwhelming urge to drag her to a cave and claim her, show her my hoard, and present it to her. Fuck… I swallow hard, unable to look away from the silver slip of a dress and the wild purple hair. My other form is at war inside of me, pushing me to take her.

“Do you?” I narrow my eyes, and he takes a step away from me.

"That never gets any less creepy," he mumbles, and I roll my reptilian eyes.

“What do you think it means?” I ask, and he shrugs.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.” His grin is lopsided, and I have to hand it to the man, he has a way of blending in that I don’t.

“She feels…”

“Like something more than just a Witch?” Odas asks, and I nod. “She’s Heart Bonded,” he adds, nodding to her forearm.

“More to hoard,” I murmur under my breath, and Odas chuckles. Asshole.

Moon

“Arlo!” I rush over to him when I finally spot him. I’m a few steps away when I pause. “Holy hell,” I whisper, as I take in the sight of him. He’s dressed in a tux, and his mask is covering the lower half of his face, down to his neck, per usual. But damn. Arlo in a tux? Yes, please.

“Sweet fucking hell—" Arlo says, as he looks from my shoes up to my eyes and groans. “Are you trying to cause a scene? Fuck. Every man in this room looks ready to kidnap you, Moon,” he grumbles, and I smirk.

“Let them try.” I shrug. “I could use a good warm-up fight,” I chuckle, and Arlo sighs.

“You will be the death of me.” He shakes his head, and I frown.

“The mask?” I ask, and Arlo nods.

“I’m allowed to keep it on. Fortunately, Crow is one of the Elves running the Games and changed the rules. I won’t be the only one masked,” he says, nodding to a few others also hiding their faces. “You should wear one too. Along with a large tarp. And a paper bag for your head,” he jokes.

I just shake my head, hooking my arm in his. “You have a lot to tell me,” I say, and Arlo smiles.

“Not here,” he says, but I understand. It’s not safe. Especially if his not-dead-dead mother is the ex-queen of the Elven realm.

There’s a hiss in the crowd, as it parts like the sea, and a man in all black, towering over everyone except Arlo, every inch of his body covered, stomps by us. Arlo tugs me back, and I frown.

“Do you know him?” I ask, but apparently not quietly enough, because he stops mid-stride, turning to face me.

“Do you not?” the stranger asks, and I frown. Like Arlo, he’s wearing a mask over the lower half of his face. But unlike Arlo, his eyes are solid black, with a dirty blonde head of messy hair. He’s large, toned, muscular, and intimidating. Fucking hell, the danger radiating off of him is so thick in the air I can almost taste it. Small, curved ears suggest Fae.

“No. I don’t. Should I?” I ask, and I wonder if maybe I’m not as prepared for these games as I should have been. Why didn’t I do more research into the other species I’d be competing with? I suppose I wouldn’t have gotten terribly far anyway, given how secretive we all are.

He lifts a gloved hand, trailing it down my cheek, and I remain still as people around me gasp, and Arlo goes still.

“You should be scared,” he says, rather than introducing himself.

“Of? You?” I question because, as we’ve discussed, I’m an idiot.

“Very much,” His eyes narrow, as he looks me over, and his eyebrows rise. “Try not to die too quickly out there. You’ll be so fun to toy with if we make it to the finals together.” I can’t see his smirk, but I know it’s there, as he spins and stomps on.

“Okay. That was-”

I don’t get to finish my statement, because, for the second time in two days, my world goes black.