Page 50 of Veil of Shadows

Everyone was covert about it, either angling in their seats or pretending to stretch when they turned, but I quickly joined in and searched the crowd as best I could.

I looked for antlers, a clearly defining feature that no siltenite would have. But everywhere I looked in the crowd, it was either pure siltenites or pure wildlings only. No half-breeds.

My hope dimmed, but I thought back to the group of half-breeds I’d seen traveling in the Wood when Jax had still held me as a captive. And I’d seen a second group of half-breeds too after Guardian Alleron had rescued me in Lemos.

Multiple groups of half-breeds had ventured here. I was sure of it, so there had to be other half-breeds somewhere. We just had to find them. Because where there was one half-breed, there were usually others. It was no secret they tended to stick together, their outcast status bonding them.

“No sign of anyone interesting,” Alec commented, his remark obscure enough that it wouldn’t draw any attention if anyone overheard.

“Could be too early to tell,” Jax replied just as evasively.

Minutes later, the competitors fighting on the arena floor finished their battle. Cheers rose from the crowd as they shuffled off the sandy arena, and for a brief moment, the floor was empty.

A group of wildlings ran out to change the props. They moved so quickly that it was only minutes before the entire arena looked like a new venue. What had previously been a sandy floor with several walled obstacles in its vicinity was now a maze of hoops, low-lying barbed spikes, and enchanted weapons that randomly shot out spells.

Spectators leaned forward eagerly in their seats as the next round of potential competitors walked onto the arena’s floor.

Jax stiffened beneath me just as my spine snapped upright.

The entire group of new competitors were half-breeds. All of them.

Murmurs erupted in the crowd as everyone took notice. Several siltenites near us began to boo, those behind us voicing their displeasure just as fast.

A low growl erupted from Jax, his friends having similar responses.

All of the half-breeds had animalistic features in one way or another. Three had hoofed feet, two had whiskers, one had wings, and half of them had exteriors that were fur or scales instead of bare skin, yet all of them wore clothes.

But no antlers.

I sagged against Jax, and for once, his wandering hands stopped. Disappointment swelled in his aura so potently it robbed my breath. Unconsciously, I shifted closer to him, wanting to give him comfort. The second I realized what I’ddone, I stiffened, but Jax’s arm locked around me, and he kept me close.

Alec leaned over to the prince and whispered, “Now this is interesting. Do you think he traveled here because friends of his came to compete?”

Jax frowned. “Could be, but I hadn’t heard of any half-breeds he knew having an interest in the Matches.”

“Do you recognize any of them?” I asked the prince quietly.

He subtly shook his head. “No, none of them.”

Some of the booing crowd had quieted, and thankfully, a few cheered in encouragement. But the majority’s reaction was typical of our society. Most despised the half-breeds because of the threat they posed to siltenites, but there were groups of fae who championed for them. Nobody could deny that the half-breeds were shunned and treated as lesser, even more so than wildlings, and it took bravery to speak up against it since those who did were often shunned too.

I nibbled on my lip. That strange kinship I felt toward them resurfaced. Like me, half-breeds wereother, but the belief that half-breeds should be eliminated ran deep in our culture, unlike the reverence a lorafin received. Our society despised them so much that it was a miracle King Paevin had allowed them to compete at all.

A siltenite walked out onto the arena floor, his gestures grand as he waved his arms in dramatic fashion. “Fine fae of our four kingdoms,” he boomed from a magical device, “our next competition shall require the competitors to remain in the fray as they battle unseen attacks. Those left standing, shall proceed to the next round. Let the battle begin!”

The spectators cheered just as the arena erupted in a display of magical traps and obstacles.

Where there had been sand only moments ago, pillars burst from the floor, knocking one of the competitors off his feet. Theother devices activated as well. The hoops soared through the air, forcing the half-breeds to leap through them or be knocked over.

Demobilizing spells shot from the weapons, freezing anybody they touched. One of the half-breeds froze mid-step when a spell hit him, as though paralyzed. A flying hoop knocked him off his feet a second later, but he quickly recovered, shaking off the spell and leaping back into action. But he hadn’t even gone two feet before a boulder tumbled out of a trap door and rolled right over him.

My breath sucked in. Even from the distance, a sickening crunch reached my ears. The boulder rolled to a stop, and the half-breed lay unmoving. Two wildlings rushed out to drag him off the floor.

Just as fast, a shimmer of magic billowed in the air, and then new wildlings burst through small doors mid-way up the arena’s interior walls. They flew atop large redbeaked hawks, the giant birds soaring through the air while the wildling riders shot at the competitors with poisoned darts.

One half-breed took a dart in the shoulder. She was unconscious before she hit the floor.

The remaining half-breeds fought valiantly, some even using a combination of weapons and their own magic to fend off the attacks.

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