Page 63 of A Taste of Torment
“What did you find about the Akrasia Games?” I ask as we head down the hall.
Something new crosses my mind. What-ifs I’d rather banish at this point, but I can’t help it. My mind is still my most objective strength right now. Every possibility must be considered.
What if Jarron wooed my sister and convinced her that if she won the games, she could be his queen? What if he’s now priming me to do the same?
My stomach twists.
Why would he do that? Other than some sadistic form of entertainment? No idea.
I don’t even think this line of reasoning makes any sense. Why would he be so willing to openly date me if he was determined to bond to a powerful being? He doesn’t seem to care what people think about him dating a human.
Unless he just gets off on getting our hopes up and then crushing them.
That’s not at all the Jarron I know, I remind myself. But I barely know him.
The other book in my hand should give me a bit more insight into the reality of royal demons. Were my previous expectations about demons entirely false?
Jarron seems so surprisingly human. Is that all an act?
“Not much,” Jarron answers my nearly forgotten question. “The story only told me what I already know. No one knows who runs the competition, how contestants are chosen, when or how often they happen. The book simply explains what they discovered after each of the events took place.”
“Like?”
“Like, there are around ten weak supernaturals or humans who enter and they’re made to fight inside a magical dome. They don’t know for sure what happens to the victor, or if there even is one.”
I frown. “Why would there not be a victor?”
“It’s not outside the realm of reason for cruel supernaturals to lie to achieve their goals. We have no way of knowing if their promises are fulfilled or not. Maybe all the contestants die at the end. That would explain how they’ve kept the games so secret for so long. No survivors to tell their tale. Or maybe the victor is silenced some other way.”
“Hmm.”
We enter Jarron’s room, and I take a seat on his plush couch in front of the already flickering fire.
“I could ask around. There’s a chance I could get an in from influence alone. I only worry…”
“What?”
“It’s public knowledge we’re together. They’d have to be extremely selective on who they give any information to, even potential betters. I don’t know if I’d be disqualified for being a human sympathizer.”
I cross my arms and watch the fire. “Unless you wanted your significant other to enter.”
Jarron jerks his attention to me, his face full of rage and confusion. “What?”
I shrug. “Elizabeth was dating someone powerful. Someone who apparently told her they knew a way to make her powerful too.”
Jarron blinks.
“She mentioned in her journal that he promised toascendher.”
His expression of disgust is a relief if I’m honest.
“If you fell in love with a human but knew you couldn’t mate with her without weakening your reign, what lengths would you go to alleviate that conflict? To make it so you get the best of both worlds?”
He sits up straight. “Not this.” He slams a finger into the book, the image of a magical dome scrawled on the page. “If I fell in love with someone too weak to keep my reign—which is not an issue I personally have, by the way—then I would choose not to mate with them. It’s appalling to think they’d risk their love’s life for power. In fact, I can’t see how that’s love at all.”
I press my lips together tightly. “I agree,” I whisper eventually. “But that doesn’t mean someone else might not.”
Jarron runs his fingers through his dark locks once and then leans his head against his palm. He remains that way for several minutes, the silence stretching.
