Page 37 of Courting War
As they traversed the hallway, a mixture of emotions settled in his core.
His stomach flipped. Morrigan knew so much about the games. She knew exactly where she was going and what she was doing, marching through the labyrinthian library easily knowing her way like she’d been there many times. And maybe she had, because she was the War Priestess with a Godmark etched into her skin. A mark giving her access to monsters, inhuman senses, magic, and the gods.
It was disconcerting yet also relieving.
Perhaps with her help, Kellyn might stand a fighting chance inthe games.
Maybe he wasn’t on his own.
Unfortunately, his newfound hope was short-lived. Turning a corner, Kellyn was struck with the force of a thousand hisses.
Snakes.
Instinctively, his eyes found the source of the sound.
A deadly mistake.
“No, don’t—” Morrigan’s call was sucked out of the air as she realized the futility of her warning.
Because Kellyn’s eyes were already locked onto Medusa’s.
Well, seventy thousand fucks.
Stone climbed up his legs. The cracking and popping sound crushed his eardrums with the weight of his fear. His heart strummed like a screeching violin—playing off-key and out of sync—and his muscles tightened.
The stone clawed up his chest, climbing the rungs of his ribs and encasing him in fractured nightmares.
Kellyn gasped a final breath as the stone slid over his neck, chin, cheeks, and eyes, swallowing him whole.
His last and horrible thought wasthis is not an honorable death.
Chapter Thirteen
THEODRA
Extremely Enraged Ex-God
LIGHT’S MIRROR
“Medusa.” The word slipped from her tongue like a witch’s curse.
This wasn’t how Theo planned on sabotaging her champion—it wasn’t sabotage if she didn’t help him at all. Was it? It was apathy. Theo didn’t want the boy to die necessarily; she simply refused to aid him. Simply refused to fall into her mother’s machinations.
Theo sighed, making sure not to look into Medusa’s eyes. Instead, she scrutinized her champion’s limestone form. She didn’t bother to remember his name, instead referring to him only as “champion”, “foolish mortal”, or “boy”—despite knowing he was very much a young man.
But the boy was a beautiful statue. His towering stature and defined muscles made him look like a god or an ancient hero. Even his scarred face shimmered, frozen under the rock.
Theo smiled. Rock was the perfect form for men. They couldn’t talk back or commit egregious acts.
Reaching up, she ran a finger along the scar on his brow.
How did you get this?
Without her powers, there was no way of knowing. There was a beauty in the unknowing, though. If she wanted the answer, she’d have to discover it for herself.
She’d have to work for it.
Theo let her fingers slide down the mortal’s face. A pool of emotion stirred in her stomach. She almost felt sorry for the boy. But alas, this was what happened when fools encountered gods and monsters.
