“You”—I grab the nearest pillar to keep from falling—“are a maniac.”

“So I’ve been told. By people of more note.” He holds out one hand, imperious. “The box, little sacrifice.”

I hold out my prize. Some distant part of me marvels that the Dark King allowed me to have it. That he let me go because of Amara.

Alexios’ red eyes gleam as he accepts it and turns it in his hands.

“I bled for that,” I say. “Got throttled and tossed around by an actual god of death. I think I deserve to know what’s inside.”

The look he levels at me could melt the skin off my bones. “You deserve? Let me explain something to you, girl. You’re entitled to what I decide you’ve earned. Nothing more, nothing less. Until the end of my trials, you’re entertainment who just happens to be fucking my Enforcer.”

I clench my jaw so hard my back teeth grind together. I glance through the balcony’s open doors to the bed, but my Chosen is nowhere to be found. “Where’s Evander? Because I want a night with him. No chains, no magic cuffs. Just us.”

“I want many things in this dismal simulacrum of existence,” he replies conversationally, tucking the chest under his arm. “Peace in my realms. The luxury of not having to listen to mortals whine. Funny how rarely I lower myself to begging for any of it. You seem to be under the impression that this is a negotiation. It isn’t. You’ll see your Chosen soon.” He jerks his chin toward the bathing chamber. “Now go use the bath before I drown you in it.”

I’m about to argue, but something in his eyes stops me cold. The kind of flat, reptilian stillness that says he’s imagining all the creative ways he could end me.

So I shut up and obey.

Someone’s already prepared the bath for me. Steam rises off the water, and the surface is scattered with pale flower petals. The fragrance of citrus and roses permeates the air.

Well. At least this is one luxury I can appreciate.

I strip, trying not to look too closely at what my destroyed clothes reveal, but it’s impossible to ignore the purple bruises everywhere the Dark King’s corpses got their hands on me. At least he healed the necrosis, or I wouldn’t have a working left hand. Small mercies.

Sinking into the scalding water forces a hiss from between my teeth. I scrub myself raw and pink, washing away blood and grime and the lingering stench of decay.

When I finally step out, there’s a gown hanging from the door made of shining fabric that resembles liquid sunlight. I scowl as I hold it up.

“Is there another dress to choose from?” I call out to Alexios.

“No.” Curt. Final.

Asshole.

I step into it and begin tying up the little fastenings. The dramatic slits along both legs are held together by golden chains, and the plunging neckline and back meet at a choker-style collar that covers the Dark King’s bruises. If it weren’t for the shining filigree, I’d say it were something a pet would wear, which is probably the point. The translucent fabric is stitched with strategically placed jewels to hide the parts of me for Evander’s eyes only. Still, if I breathe wrong, someone is going to see my nipples.

I hate everything.

Alexios is standing on the balcony as I emerge. He turns, gaze drifting down my body, and I fight the urge to fidget beneath that intense red stare.

“Acceptable. I’m glad it fits.”

“It fits like you want everyone to see my ass when I walk, so I’ll go with ‘barely tolerable.’” I tug at the thin fabric where it dips too low between my breasts. “Is the collar a style choice or a punishment?”

He gives a mocking tilt of his head. “You know better than anyone that when I aim to send a message, I’m hardly subtle about it.”

“Yes, well”—I tug again—“I’m practically naked.”

“Would you prefer I send you out wearing nothing at all?”

I glare at him instead of answering. “How long until you give Evander’s mark back?”

“When we finish my tests.” His eyes drop to my wrist where his own Claim used to glow, and something dark passes across his face. “I heard you, you know. Every time you climbed onto that altar and cursed me in your thoughts. You were an irritating little shit.”

Ice floods my veins. “I wasn’t aware you could hear me through your Claim.”

“Not everything. Listening to every pathetic thought from thousands of Claimed would finish the job of driving me insane.” His wings shift restlessly. “But when they started worshipping you instead of coming to my temple, I listened. And when I found out the woman I thought I executed soulbonded with an Eternal willing to raze realms for her? I wondered just how far your ambitions went.” His voice drops lower, crueler. “Humans always have been grasping, greedy things, and the Wolf wouldn’t be the first god destroyed by a pretty face and a tight cunt.”

Fury detonates in my chest, and I get right up in his space. “I soulbonded with Evander because I love him. Because after you, the thought of another god’s mark on me made me want to claw my skin off. I died hundreds of times for your precious Shroud, and what did I get for my trouble? Abandonment and punishment because an emperor couldn’t control his people. I hated you then. I hate you now. And I’ll hate you until they put me in the ground.”

For a moment, I think he might kill me. The air between us hums with power, the smell of lightning growing stronger.

Then he laughs—a genuine sound that startles me more than his rage.

“I know.” His fingers brush against my cheek. I jerk away. “I tasted that hatred every time the knife opened you up. I could drink it.” Then he holds out his arm like we’re attending some grand ball. “Audience awaits, little sacrifice.”

I don’t move.

His eyes narrow. “Take my arm and walk with me, or I’ll grab you by that collar and make you crawl.”

I believe him. I’ve seen what he does to those who defy him.

So I take his arm and let him lead me through the corridors. “Just because I’m wearing this doesn’t make me a pet on a leash.”

“No,” he agrees, not looking at me. “Pets are easier to control.”

The palace stretches in a labyrinth of soaring archways, windows, and columns engraved with delicate filigree. I don’t know how he doesn’t get lost here, but I suppose you memorize things after seven thousand years.

Finally, Alexios stops before a pair of doors made from gleaming basalt. Gold embellishments twine across their surface like vines, nearly covering the pulsing glow of runes. The doors shudder open with an echoing groan.

The wave of noise hits first—a deafening crush of shouts and screams.

It’s an arena.

The circular structure stretches out before us. Marble columns rise hundreds of feet, their surfaces carved with scenes from ancient battles of gods locked in combat. Tiers of seats filled with hundreds of demis climb toward the open-air oculus, interspersed with platforms that float around the arena, suspended by nothing but magic.

“What is this place?” I ask Alexios.

“The Colosseum Eternal.” He gives me a wry smile. “Even gods need somewhere to settle their scores.”

The demis in the stands shout at our arrival, the wings forming a mosaic of colors against the stark architecture: ruby and gold, midnight blue and forest green, pure white and deepest black. The air crackles with their combined power, and their voices blend into a roar that bounces off the walls.

My attention turns to the arena’s fighting pit. Obstacles are set up throughout—columns and rocks that offer cover for attacks, some blackened and shattered from previous battles. At first glance, there’s nothing remarkable about the sand, but ancient runes flare beneath the surface in irregular patterns.

“Those runes down there,” I say, glancing at Alexios. “What do they do?”

“Contain the violence. Without them, every fight would level the palace.” Alexios gestures at the circular opening above us. “The barriers channel excess power upward, into the sky.”