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With an unusual surge of strength, my legs propelled me toward King Maximus at a prodigious speed. Growling, I went for the kill, hands curved into claws, aimed toward his neck.
The King blurred. One instant he was in front of me, the next he was at my side, his own claw-like hand clamped around my neck, immobilizing me.
I tore at his arm, nails digging deep. Blood seeped from my own fingertips as they threatened to come loose from their beds, but I didn’t hurt him. He was stone, and I was but flesh and bones.
The great strength that coursed through me was nothing but child’s play to the Black King. He grabbed one of my clawing hands and squeezed it until the bones broke under the pressure. I screamed in pain. He let go. I stared at my bent fingers. Two of them jutted at odd angles. Bile stirred in my gut.
The Black King released his hold on my neck. I dropped to my knees, cradling my hand.
He glowered down at me, his expression conflicted. He sniffed the air as if trying to catch my scent. When he did, he seemed to grow even more puzzled.
Fighting my nausea, I got to my feet. Sweat dripped down the side of my face. The pain in my hand was the worst I’d ever felt, and I feared I would pass out from its effects.
“Nyro Stonehelm, you surprise me,” the King said. “I’ve never seen anyone turn down a Trove, much less after their first tasting.”
Both the use of my name and his admission startled me. I never thought vampires could possess redeemable qualities, for how could something like honesty and evil mix?
“I should kill you,” he said, “but my curiosity is piqued. You didn’t break just now—he’s your brother, after all—but surely you will give in the next time. I’m also thinking you might make a good addition to the Board.” He turned to Timotei. “What do you say, pet? Should I let him live?”
The question was full of mockery. Timotei’s answer didn’t matter. Maximus had already made up his mind. He’d found a toy to distract him from the boredom of his eternal existence.
“Y-yes, please,” my brother said between sobs. “He’s my brother.”
King Maximus leaned forward and caressed Timotei’s cheek, the back of his fingers smearing the blood from the wound in Timotei’s temple.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to be part of the Board. I despised the Vampire Court and everything it represented. I would rather die. Every citizen in Acedrex was a prisoner, every Trove either a slave or someone living in constant fear of being discovered. I couldn’t be part of that, couldn’t become a monster.
And yet, how could I abandon my brother? If I lived past today, there would still be a chance to free him. And maybe I wouldn’t have to become a monster. The Black King had expected me to attack Timotei, but I’d been able to resist.
My will was strong. I could overcome whatever obstacle, whatever challenge King Maximus set in front of me, couldn’t I?
My hand throbbed, the pain and tingling in my broken fingers a sharp, living thing that still had my insides roiling.
“Then Nyro shall live,” the King announced with a flourish as if he were ushering guests into his chambers to later feed on them.
Timotei inhaled sharply, his relief clear. The back of my eyes stung. He didn’t understand the game the King was playing. He only cared that his big brother would live.
“Now, let’s fix this,” King Maximus said, snatching my hand and righting the broken fingers with one sudden jerk.
I screamed, my pain renewed and redoubled. My bones cracked into place, straight once more, although just as broken.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but trampling sounds from the woods gave him pause. Several dark shapes on horseback appeared and came to a halt when they spotted us.
Knight Traian and Knight Arcos dismounted with more agility than men their age should possess. Rook Sanda and Ungur were also there and hopped off their mounts almost as quickly as the Knights.
Rook Sanda stormed in my direction, his intention to murder me clearly spelled on his face.
“Heel,” the King ordered, but Sanda went on, seemingly blinded by rage.
I got ready, flexing my legs and holding up my hands, even as my broken fingers complained. Before Sanda got too close, however, Knight Traian took hold of the Rook’s shoulder and fiercely held him back.
“Obey your King’s command,” Traian growled.
The Rook jolted to a stop. He blinked, red eyes roving around in confusion. After a moment, he shrank a bit, though his desire to murder me still shone in his gaze.
The four newcomers stood there, peering from the King to Timotei to me, then back again. I had no idea what they made out of the situation. My brother, bloodied. Me, still alive. And the King, looking amused rather than angry.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” King Maximus said, pointing at me. “Get this boy a horse.”
The Knights and Rooks exchanged puzzled glances, while the King lifted Timotei into his arms and, in one fluid motion, propelled himself to the top of the wall. I lurched forward in a fruitless attempt to get at Timotei, then peered up to find the King standing casually at the edge of the fortification.
“I will meet you at the Challenge Hall,” he said from atop his perch, while my brother clung to him, pressing his face to the King’s chest. “Nyro Stonehelm fights tonight.”
What?!
Knight Traian took a step forward, shaking his head. “But he has broken his contract, your Majesty. He should die.”
“Dear Traian, when was the last time you read the contract?” the King asked. “It is I who decides the punishment. Have you forgotten? Well, I haven’t, and I have decided that tonight, Nyro’s punishment will be to fight to become First Pawn.”