Page 55 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

CHAPTER17

RONAN

“Are you sure about that shirt?”

Ronan glanced down at the white tunic he’d tucked into his brown leathers. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”

Bast scrunched his nose. “There’s blood on it.”

“So?”

“What do you mean ‘so’?” he asked, looking horrified. “You’ve just received a royal summons.”

“To go to a tavern.”

“Perhaps you do not understand what the word royal means. Allow me to explain...”

Ronan had to swallow a laugh. If Sebastian ever learned he was not only intimately connected to royalty but he’d also issued his fair share of royal summons, the poor bastard would shit his pants.

“Dmitri knows what to expect. He’s the one overseeing these stupid trials. If a little blood offends him, then he’s in the wrong line of work.”

“Still, it would not hurt for you to try.”

“Sebastian, I’m not changing my clothes.”

Bast lifted his hands in surrender, but his sigh was filled with exasperation. “You should work harder to endear yourself to the High Lord’s inner circle. You’ve successfully completed three trials as of today and are no closer...”

Ronan tuned the other man out, his temper sparking at the words. Not because Bast was wrong, but because he was fucking right.

It had been five days since this damned contest started. Five days, three trials, and two wastes of fucking time. He was no closer to helping Shadow regain her memories today than he’d been on day one. She’d avoided him at every turn since leaving him on the palace steps.

He’d hoped to find a way to force the issue, but the last two tests hadn’t lent themselves to any sort of extended conversation. Shadow arrived at each one just as it began and took off as soon as she’d completed her task. Outside of contest-sanctioned events, she remained behind the palace walls, as unreachable to him as she’d been when they resided in different realms.

Unlike the first trial, which had been a bit of a free for all, the last two had been structured, meaning not only were the competitors mostly separated, they were supervised. Ronan had little doubt he was the reason for that. After his display at the party and then again with his upset of a win, he knew the High Lord wanted to keep a closer eye on him. The additional scrutiny also explained Shadow’s icy behavior. Not that it required one. She’d made her feelings clear as crystal with the tongue lashing she’d given him. And then he’d taken it a step further and humiliated her by winning in her place.

Ronan let out a frustrated sigh. No, he couldn’t blame her cold shoulder on the High Lord. He’d earned his spot on her shit list all by himself.

As for the trials themselves, the second had been intellectual in nature. The contestants were each placed in a sectioned-off area so they could not see or talk to one another and asked to solve a series of puzzles.

The brain teasers were easy. He coasted through them without issue. To be honest, after the drama surrounding the race, he’d been pretty underwhelmed by the whole thing. The most memorable part had actually been Bannock’s absence. Rumor had it the brute managed to find a token and cross the finish line, but when he hadn’t shown up to participate in the next trial, Ronan couldn’t help but wonder what had really happened after he left that alley.

It was also why he questioned the fate of those who failed the second trial. Only the first twenty to finish moved on. The rest weren’t seen again, nor were those who lost the race. Ronan had no idea if they’d been forced to leave town or if something morepermanenthad been arranged.

As for today’s trial, it marked the halfway point, and the gloves were definitely off. The remaining twenty competitors had been paired up and made to take part in a head-to-head battle with the weapon of their choice. There were two ways to end the match. Submission or death. Given his competitors and the man they were fighting to serve, Ronan had little doubt mercy had been in short supply. He certainly hadn’t shown any to the unfortunate soul he’d faced off against. Unless one counted a flaming axe through the throat mercy.

No, he didn’t question the fate of today’s losers. He was much more interested in learning about the winners. Since the fights happened behind closed doors, with only Erebos and his flock as witnesses, there was no way for him to know who else had won or lost. He could only assume Shadow and the handful of others he’d singled out continued to perform well.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“No.”

Bast threw up his hands. “Why do I even bother with you?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question about you since we met.”

“Lies. You love me.”

Ronan raised a brow. “You think so, do you?”

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