The Coliseum's limestone walls towered above Marin Ashveil as she was led between two armored wardens. From her vantage inside the pen's barred gate, she watched the crowd assemble—thousands of torches flickering like restless spirits, chants rising in a low thunder. Across the sand, chained Alpha veterans paced behind iron collars, their eyes void of hope.
A booming voice echoed from the speakers' dais. “Citizens of Bloodmoor! Behold the Hunter-King's might and mercy! Let the games commence!"
Marin pressed a hand to her chest—steady—as guards shackled her to a post in the center of the arena floor. She glanced up at Elias, who stood on a raised platform beside Regent Selene's gilded seat. His crimson eyes met hers, fierce with determination.
Selene's composed voice carried across the s
