Aiden was on one knee, his sword point-down in the dirt, his body a symphony of agony. Every breath was a struggle, every muscle screamed in protest. Two down. He had saved two. But the price was etched in the blood on his arm and the throbbing pain in his back.
The Hunter Chief rose from his throne of bones, a slow, deliberate movement that silenced the crowd. He didn't call for another fighter. He jumped down from the platform, landing with a heavy thud that shook the ground. He cracked his neck, a grin of pure, predatory confidence spreading across his face.
"The boy has spirit," the Chief boomed, his voice echoing in the sudden silence. "But the show is over. It's time for the main event." He pointed his dragon-bone staff at Aiden, then at Lyra and Seraphine. "I will face you myself, prince. And when I win, I will not take just one. I will take them all. Your little harem of misfits will become my brides. Every. Last. One."
Aiden's blood turned to ice. He forced himself to his feet, his body trembling with exhaustion.
The Chief's grin widened. "And to make it interesting... if, by some miracle, you manage to defeat me... my men will kill your dragon. Slowly."
A gasp went through the crowd. Aiden's heart stopped. He froze, his mind a complete blank. He looked at the Chief, then at the two remaining maids. Lyra, her face a mask of fury. Seraphine, pale and watchful. He could save them by winning, but it would cost him Nimbus. He could save Nimbus by losing, but it would condemn them to a fate worse than death.
It was an impossible choice. A trap with no escape.
He was cornered, his sword feeling impossibly heavy. What could he do?
Then, a voice, not in his head, but roaring through the entire arena, shook the very stones.
"AIDEN! WIN!"
It was Nimbus. His voice was a thunderclap of desperation and fury. "DO NOT LET THEM MAKE A COWARD OF YOU! DO NOT LET MY LIFE BE THE REASON YOU FAIL! I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN SEE YOU SURRENDER!"
Tears pricked at the corners of Aiden's eyes. His friend. His oldest, truest friend, was telling him to sacrifice him.
"NEVER!" Aiden roared back, his voice raw with emotion. "I WILL NOT LET YOU DIE!"
The Chief just laughed. "A touching reunion. Now, die."
He charged.
But as the Chief lunged, a different voice cut through the tension. It was Seraphine's, sharp and urgent.
"Rina. Come here."
Rina, who had been watching from the side gate with the other freed maids, flinched. "M-me?"
"Now," Seraphine commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I need you. Trust me."
Hesitantly, Rina scurried back towards the arena floor, stopping a safe distance from the chained vampire.
"What are you doing?" Aiden yelled, his attention divided.
Seraphine ignored him, her eyes locked on Rina. "I told you I was in your debt. I am about to collect. I need to be free to help him. And to be free... I need strength."
Understanding dawned on Rina's face, followed by a wave of terror. She shook her head, her eyes wide.
"Do it," Seraphine said, her voice softening for the first time. "Or we all die here today."
The Chief was almost upon Aiden, his staff raised high. Aiden parried the first blow, the impact jarring him to his very bones. He was out of time.
Seeing the desperate look in Aiden's eyes as he stumbled back, Rina made her choice. She squeezed her eyes shut, ran forward, and held out her arm.
Seraphine moved with a blur of speed. Her fangs sank into Rina's wrist. It wasn't a savage bite, but a quick, precise draw. Rina let out a small cry, her body going rigid.
Aiden saw it out of the corner of his eye as he desperately fended off the Chief's relentless attacks. He saw Seraphine's back straighten. He saw a faint, violet aura begin to glow around her. The chains on her wrists began to groan, the metal straining against an unseen force.
"Your little friend is providing a distraction, prince," the Chief sneered, driving Aiden back with a series of powerful strikes. "But it won't save you!"
Aiden was losing. He was too tired, too hurt. The Chief was too strong. He stumbled, falling to one knee. The Chief raised his staff for the final blow.
And at that exact moment, there was a loud SNAP.
One of Seraphine's manacles shattered. She wrenched her other hand free, the broken chain swinging from her wrist. Her eyes were no longer just violet; they were glowing with a terrifying, otherworldly light.
"Get away from him," she said, her voice no longer human, but a chilling, resonant whisper that cut through the roar of the crowd.
The Chief paused, turning to look at the freed vampire. Aiden looked up, his vision swimming, and saw a monster wearing a noblewoman's face. The final fight had just changed.
The snap of Seraphine's manacle was like a thunderclap in the tense silence. The broken piece of metal clattered to the arena floor. She stood, a faint violet aura pulsing around her, her eyes glowing with an ancient, terrifying light.
"Get away from him," she whispered, her voice resonating with a power that made the air vibrate.
The Chief paused, his staff still raised, his arrogance momentarily replaced by a flicker of caution. It was all the time they needed.
Eira, her eyes still closed, slammed her manacled hands together. A wave of emerald light erupted from her, washing over Lyra and Talia. With a sound like shattering glass, the chains on their wrists and ankles fell away.
At the same time, Eira pointed a single finger towards Nimbus, who was still roaring and struggling against his own massive bonds. The chains holding the dragon glowed with the same emerald light, then shattered into a thousand pieces.
Nimbus was free.
The Chief's face twisted in a mask of fury. He had lost control. "TRAITORS!" he bellowed at his own men who were now staring in shock. "FORGET THE PRINCE! KILL THE GIRLS! KILL THE DRAGON! NOW!"
The arena erupted into chaos. Hunters, unsure of their new orders, hesitated for a crucial second. It was a second that cost them everything.
"Rina, to me!" Aiden yelled, scrambling to his feet.
The terrified girl didn't need to be told twice. She scrambled across the arena and took shelter behind one of Nimbus's massive legs, peering out at the carnage.
Talia needed no further instruction. With a feral cry, she disarmed the nearest hunter, wrenching a short-handled axe from his grasp and spinning it into a deadly arc. She was a whirlwind of controlled fury, a warrior finally unleashed in her natural element.
But it was Lyra who was truly terrifying. Seeing the others free, seeing Aiden still in danger, something inside her snapped. A primal scream, full of rage and dragon-fire, tore from her throat. She didn't fight like a soldier; she fought like a predator. She moved with a blur of motion, her hands seeming to grow claws as she ripped and tore at the hunters who got too close, her eyes burning with a terrifying, golden light. She was not just defending herself; she was avenging every dragon that had ever fallen.
Aiden watched them for a heartbeat, his heart swelling. They were not his burden. They were his army. The weight on his shoulders lifted, replaced by a surge of pure, unadulterated strength. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. He was no longer just fighting to survive. He was fighting to win.
He turned his full attention to the Chief, who was now staring in disbelief as his elite fighters were being decimated by a handful of girls.
"This is your doing, you little prince," the Chief snarled, turning his full fury back on Aiden. He charged, his staff a blur of motion.
The clash was epic. It was no longer a fight between a prisoner and a warden; it was a battle of wills. The Chief fought with the strength of a desperate animal, his staff swinging in powerful, crushing blows. Aiden, renewed and focused, met him with a speed and precision he'd never known he possessed. His sword was an extension of his arm, a silver flash that parried, deflected, and countered.
"They are just a collection of misfits!" the Chief roared, driving Aiden back. "I will break them one by one!"
"They are not my harem," Aiden grunted, blocking a heavy swing. "They are my squadron!"
He saw his opening. The Chief, in his rage, had overcommitted to a downward strike. Aiden sidestepped, the staff smashing into the dirt beside him. In that split second, Aiden kicked the Chief's legs out from under him.
The massive hunter stumbled backward, his eyes wide with shock. He was right on the edge of the chasm that split the arena—the same chasm Aiden had noticed earlier, the one from which a faint, reptilian growling emanated.
Aiden didn't hesitate. He didn't raise his sword for a killing blow. He lowered his shoulder and charged.
He slammed into the Chief with all his remaining strength.
The Chief's face was a picture of pure disbelief as he lost his footing and toppled backward over the edge. He fell into the dark chasm with a final, terrified scream.
Aiden peered over the edge. The Chief hadn't fallen to his death on rocks. He had fallen into a pit. A writhing, snarling pit of chained, starving dragons, their scales dull and their eyes desperate. They were the Heart-Eaters' larder.
The last thing Prince Aiden Dravenheart heard was the Chief's scream, abruptly cut short by the sickening sound of crunching bone.
It was over.