Page 53 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

“Finally,” he growled.

“Apologies, my lord,” Dominic said, bowing slightly.

“Has there been a development?”

“Yes.”

“Well?”

“Of the fifty-eight who started this morning, twenty have crossed the finish line, and sixteen have been killed.”

That left twenty-two roaming around, only two of which could move on to the next trial.

Unaware of his mental arithmetic, Dominic continued with his update, “As of ten minutes ago, all tokens have been found. It's now a matter of strategy and daring.”

“Any guesses who the last two will be?”

Dominic’s expression remained neutral, giving nothing of his actual thoughts away. “All of our top picks have already finished. I suspect whoever is the most cunning will win out over the foolhardy or brave.”

Meaning the general didn’t care who else moved on since his favorites were already through. Fair enough. When he didn’t offer anything further but continued to stare at him, Erebos raised a brow.

“Was there anything else?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Dominic hesitated slightly, only further piquing Erebos’s interest. He wasn’t going to like whatever his general was about to say.

“I’m waiting.”

“You should know that Bannock was involved in an altercation with Shadow.”

The brawler had been among the last batch to cross the finish line. According to Dovina’s report, he’d looked as though he’d had a rough go of it based on the bloody cloth wrapped around his torso and the broken bones in his face. But she hadn’t said anything about Shadow, which was unlike his Raven. That could only mean Bannock hadn’t been able to talk until the healer fixed whatever happened to his face.

“What kind of altercation?”

“He cornered her, touched her, threatened—”

Erebos was already moving. He didn't need to hear anything else.

Knowing Shadow had been threatened was enough. Her use to him had an expiration date, but no one else knew it. As far as they were concerned, she belonged to him. That meant she was off limits.

Period.

Anyone stupid enough to come after what was his courted death.

He prowled through the palace, his fury manifesting as darkness. Little black wisps swirled and coalesced all around him, cloaking him and dimming the well-lit corridors. It was the closest he’d been to his true form since taking over this body.

After years of playing a part, it was easy to forget he was the deity responsible for bringing mortality to this plane. The one who could latch onto a mortals’ minds and twist the strands of their consciousness or shred it entirely. No one was more powerful than him, except, perhaps, his wife.

But Luna wasn’t here.

For too long, he’d hidden his power, afraid of drawing her attention before he was ready. No more. With one of her Chosen near, it was only a matter of time before they crossed paths again. So while he may not be at his full potential in this body, he wouldn’t be handicapped by his mortal trappings.

Death was his lifeblood. His language. His art.

No matter his form, he was a master. And while that meant hecouldmake it quick and painless, today there would be no mercy. Not for the man who dared to come between him and his one true goal. So Bannock’s death might be quick, but it would be far from painless.

With every step closer to his target, he reclaimed his power, calling it to him until it lapped along his skin like a lover’s sweet caress. By the time he rounded the corner and could make out the sound of the brawler and his comrades speaking, the High Lord was nowhere to be found.

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