The holding cell beneath the Great Hall was carved from solid granite, the air thick with the metallic scent of old blood and rusted iron. Kael paced the length of the cramped room, his heavy boots striking the stone floor like the ticking of a deadly clock. He was a caged beast, his midnight aura bleeding into the shadows, dark and suffocating.
Sitting on a cracked wooden bench, Elara quietly adjusted the leather bracers on her forearms. She didn't look like a terrified prisoner. She looked like a soldier preparing for the front lines.
"I should have ripped Torin's throat out the moment he suggested the pit," Kael snarled, stopping his pacing to slam a fist against the stone wall. The rock cracked under the force of his blow. "This is exactly what Victor wanted. A spectacle. A chance to
