Page 175 of When Sisters Collide
Tarxi’s expression hardened, steeped in malice. “But I don’t know why I’m bothering to tell you all this, when you already knew.”
A cold spike of dread pierced her anger. “Already knew?—?”
“Well, yes.” His smile twisted into something cruel. “It was you who revealed their existence to us.”
The ground seemed to shift beneath Katell’s feet. A chill crept through her veins, coiling around her like ice. Her hands trembled, pulse pounding in her ears. “No,” she whispered. “That wasn’t?—”
“Ah,” Tarxi interrupted, feigning realisation. “That’s right. I wasn’t supposed to tell you.” He waved a hand dismissively. “But let’s not spoil the fun any longer. I believe it’s time for this one to be whipped.” His icy gaze cut to Scylas. “I have a hunch he had something to do with the slave uprising.”
At his command, soldiers moved into the ring, sandals crunching on sand.
Katell’s body stiffened, anger surging back in a fiery wave. “No one is touching him,” she snarled.
Tarxi cocked an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”
Her answer was immediate. In one fluid motion she unsheathed her sword. The blade sang as it cleared the sheath, catching sunlight in a deadly gleam. The murmurs stilled, every eye fixed on her. “You heard me,” she said, the promise of violence simmering beneath the surface. “The games are over.”
Tarxi gave a dark chuckle. “Oh, no,Katell. They’ve only just begun.”
Before she could react, the Northerner—the warrior who had fought Scylas—lunged, his axe swinging in a wide arc. Instinct kicked in. Katell sidestepped, brandishing her blade. His glazed eyes locked on her with eerie detachment, as if his mind wassomewhere far away. But he was fast—faster than she’d expected for someone so heavily built—and his next strike came hard and relentless. Metal clashed against metal, her sword ringing with the impact.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the female Northerner vaulting into the arena, heading straight for Scylas.
On the dais, Tarxi reclined in his chair, chin propped on his fist, watching with smug satisfaction.
Scylas scrambled to his feet, snatching up a shield from a fallen soldier. He raised it just in time to block her first strike, but her second cut deep, blood spilling across the sand.
“No!” The cry tore from Katell’s throat, fear and adrenaline surging.
She shoved it down. She had to focus, end her fight fast—or Scylas wouldn’t survive. She ducked beneath the Northerner’s next swing and drove her blade upwards, piercing the gap beneath his shoulder plate. He grunted but refused to fall.
He hauled his axe high again, but Katell was done wasting time. Calling on her Gift, she seized his wrist. He tried to wrench free, but her hold was ironclad. With one swift, brutal twist, the joint gave way with a sickeningcrunch. The axe dropped, clattering to the ground, his strangled cry echoing in the arena.
Katell didn’t give him time to recover. She slammed her knee into his chest, sending him sprawling into the sand. The impact knocked the fight out of him, and he lay there, unmoving.
In the next breath, she pivoted to Scylas. He teetered on the verge of collapse, his shield raised in a desperate guard, jaw clenched against the pain. Blood streamed from a deep gash in his thigh. The female warrior pressed her advantage without pause, each strike heavy and merciless.
Katell grabbed a dagger from her belt, muscles coiled, ready to throw. But as she drew her arm back, it wouldn’t move.
The dagger remained in her grip, fingers frozen.
Her body screamed to act, yet her limbs refused to obey.
Stay.
The command echoed through her mind, slithering like poison. She didn’t want it—fought against it—yet the order was there, sharp and undeniable.Stay.
Helpless, she stood rooted in place, forced to watch as the female Northerner swung her sword at Scylas with lethal precision. He caught it on his shield, but the blow drove him back a step, his arm trembling.
Katell’s focus shifted to Tarxi. He remained seated on his dais, fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair, watching her struggle with dark, twisted amusement. His lips curved into a knowing smile.
His Gift.
He had reached into her mind and taken control.
She wanted to scream, to force him out, but her limbs betrayed her.Get out of my head.
A cruel laugh reverberated through her skull. Tarxi dug his psychic claws deeper, tightening his hold. She fought to move, but her body stayed rigid, trapped in the iron clasp of his will.
