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“Astaroth,” Helion snapped.
The god tilted his head back and laughed. “Yes, Helion. I will not tell her, as promised.”
I wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, but his powers rendered me useless.
“If you kill any more of my people, vicious one, I will have Cerilla subdue your powers daily. Or…” he pondered with a large smile, “you could join her in the Nether. I hear you are fond of chains.”
I stopped struggling, going slack under the weight of his magic, and he smiled. His threat hit me like an arrow to the heart.
“So, we have an accord.” He pulled back his knife. “Once every seven years, I put on a show for the Hells,” he said. “A little offering. A little entertainment. I let them watch the husks of those responsible for their suffering tear themselves apart for the chance to breathe again. You will be a welcome addition.” My stomach twisted, watching his opaque eyes sparkle with satisfaction. “Over seven days, you will be tested. Tormented. Displayed for every damned soul beneath my rule to witness.”
I struggled against his magic uselessly, desperate to tear out his vocal cords and play them like an instrument.
“But I am not entirely cruel. The winner is granted freedom from their eternal suffering until the next damning trials begin.”
He tilted his head, leaning in until the sharp scent of his magic became unbearable. I wanted to gag, but I was not even granted that.
“I believe you know the last winner very well,” his said, breath washing over my face. “Edgar.”
That’s how the priest—Edgar had come to Stonebriar.
The pressure of his magic eased, and I collapsed forward with a gasp, sucking greedy mouthfuls of air into my lungs.
“How did Helion walk free then,” I rasped between breaths, “if he did not win the damning trials?”
“He promised to drag you back here with your soul complete, so I could finally enact the punishment you’ve escaped for so long.” His eyes gleamed. “And then he made it sweeter, wagering that he could make you marry him before the entire court.” Astaroth’s smile turned cruel.
The air left my lungs. I shot a glare at Helion, who kept his eyes trained on the ground. This was all some twisted fucking game.
“He promised me your misery,” Astaroth whispered. “And I do so adore a spectacle.”
“You fucking poor excuse of male,” I seethed, looking straight at Helion before turning back to the god of the Hells. “I am a victim. I do not deserve to be punished.”
Astaroth’s delighted laugh cut through the tension, clapping his hands together and tipping his head back towards the ceiling.
“Your ignorance is delightful.” He straightened his jacket with a slow, elegant tug and rose to his full height. “Now,” he said, his smile returning. “The first game is a hunt.”
A chill moved through me, stomach hollowing out as I realised I was truly trapped here. Forced to play whatever games he demanded.
“You will be released into the woods surrounding the manor with the others and hunt one another down. Kill or be killed. But simple death is boring, and I am not in the habit of rewarding dullness. The viewers will decide the winner based on creativity, brutality, and spectacle.”
He stepped closer, voice dropping into a coldness that seemed to press against my skin. “So do try to be entertaining, vicious one. I would hate to find you disappointing.”
He clicked his fingers, the sharp press of his magic tearing through me like claws before I fell into unconsciousness.
The rough ground scraped against my back, my head lolling as consciousness beckoned me. I blinked against the dull light before rolling onto my side with a sharp gasp. Pain pulsed through my skull in vicious waves, each heartbeat threatening to split it open. My nostrils burned with the reek of Astaroth’s magic and smoke.
Tall trees stretched towards the ash-coloured sky above us, and even they were absent of vibrance. They were a washed out green, the same shade a person skin turns before they vomit.
“I told you not to fight.” Helion’s voice came from behind me, quiet, but threaded with something darker that I could almost feel. I vaguely heard him, my eyes glued to the eerie pastel paintings leaning against the trunks of the lifeless trees.
They were everywhere.
“Would it pain you so badly just to listen for once?” His voice cut through my haze, scattering the chilled feeling and replacing it with anger.
“Why the fuck would I listen to you?” I spat, forcing myself onto my hands and knees. “You’re a snake.”
A hand closed around my upper arm, hauling me to my feet with effortless strength. Heat bled through the thin fabric of my tunic where he touched me, and my lip curled in disgust as a shiver tore through me.
