CHAPTER 5

Reading their letters felt like holding a handful of wet ash. Every line dripped with a terrifying, hollow finality, a goodbye written by young men who already considered themselves dead.

Weren't they even going to try? I asked myself, tears blinding my vision. But deep down, I knew the brutal truth. How could anyone find the will to fight when the arena demanded you slaughter the very people you once shared meals with? How could you draw a blade against your childhood friends, your own citizens or worst of all, your own brothers? I knew with absolute certainty that if I were placed in that blood-soaked ring, I wouldn't have the nerve to strike a single blow.

Desperate to see their faces one last time, I made repeated attempts to slip down into the subterranean dungeons. Every single time, cold iron spears crossed in front of my chest and stony faced guards turned me away. That was when the horrifying realization hit me, they weren't in the palace cellars at all, they weren't even in the kingdom anymore, they had already been moved to the staging grounds beyond our borders. With only a few days remaining before ‘The Hunt’ officially commenced, time was bleeding away.

In my grief, I realized I had to use whatever leverage I possessed, since all three of my brothers had legally transferred their vast estates, lands, and fortunes to my name before they were dragged away, I used every coin to execute a quiet, desperate rescue. Pompeli, the furthest province under our crown's reach, was the safest haven available. Under the cover of night, I moved every willing citizen, merchant, and poor family out of the slums, fleeing before the royal guard could sweep the district again.

Now, my desperate focus shrank to four remaining souls, my faithful nanny, her young daughter, Tiberius, and my brothers.

I tried everything to buy their freedom, I offered heavy pouches of gold, priceless family jewels, and forged deeds, but the guards' fear of the King and Queen far outweighed their greed. Bribes were useless, I was down to my absolute last, terrifying option, I had to face my parents directly.

The city was in utter chaos as the opening hours of the tournament neared. Foreign delegates, terrifying warlords, and exotic beasts packed the streets, creating a noisy shield that kept my covert movements completely unnoticed. Word trickled back from the arena border that my brothers and Tiberius were still alive, somehow surviving the initial sorting trials.

My time was officially up. I resolved to meet my father the next morning before he departed for the royal viewing box in the arena. As much as I loathed the cold monster he was, I had to swallow my pride and beg for the lives of everyone I loved.

Late that night, a soft, heavy thud echoed against my balcony doors.

When I unlatched the heavy shutters, a tiny scaled creature, a messenger dragon used by the higher tier realms landed on the stone sill, its golden eyes gleaming in the dark. Bound to its small leg was a tiny parchment scroll written in my youngest brother's messy scrawl.

My hands trembled violently as I unrolled it. The ink was smudged, mixed with ash and dry blood:

‘Medea, my sweet sister,’

‘Do not come for us, take what is left of your heart and leave this city behind. We are managing, and by some miracle, we might survive this storm, save yourself’

The words were meant to reassure me, but the despair beneath them was glaring. He wasn't going to make it out alive and he knew it. This message was my final warning, time had run out.

That very night, without waiting for dawn, I smuggled my nanny and my daughter onto a covered wagon heading for Pompeli, I wasn't taking any chances with tomorrow. As the wagon disappeared into the foggy night, I stood alone on the stone terrace, clutching the blood-stained letter to my chest as silent, heartbroken tears burned down my cheeks.

Tomorrow arrived, heavy and suffocating.

After dreading the coming daylight through the entire dark, I couldn’t sleep a single wink. I dressed in simple, durable clothes, fitted for movement rather than royalty and though it seemed utterly unfit for a princess, I couldn’t care less. Today, everything was going down.

When I walked into the dining hall, I found both my mother and father sitting at the head of the long table, quietly picking at breakfast. Before I could even open my mouth, the weirdest thing happened.

"Oh, darling! Thank goodness you’re up and ready," my mother beamed, looking surprisingly radiant. "I’m so glad you received and listened to our message last night."

"What message?" I asked, a wave of confusion washing over me.

"Oh, you’re coming with us to the arena!" she said smoothly. "So hurry along so we can head out. You’ll be riding with me."

"But you never let me ride with you."

"That doesn't mean I don't know you can ride," she dismissed with a wave of her jewel-adorned hand. "Besides, you aren't riding horse-back, you are in my carriage. Now go pack a few clothes. We’ll be spending a few days in the capital so you can socialize. The palace will be locked down, and all current servants are being freed. We need an entirely new staff, this batch has been acting terribly off of late,  So pack lightly."

She stood up and swept out of the hall without waiting for my response. My father only offered me a fleeting, unreadable glance before silently following behind her.

I forced down a few quick bites, but I didn't bother packing a single bag. I knew in my heart I wouldn't be sleeping in the capital. I only slipped the most vital documents into my cloak and stepped out to join my mother.

The arena was an absolute nightmare.

The stench of iron, blood, and copper hung thick in the warm air, punctured only by the roar of bloodthirsty crowds and the sickening crunch of metal on bone. It was so gruesome I had to keep my eyes glued to the floor.

Break time came quickly, but I hadn't laid eyes on my brothers once. A terrible anxiety was gnawing at my ribs when a royal page approached to announce that my father wished to dine with me privately.

This was my chance.

Knowing how rarely my father spoke, I expected a straightforward, cold transaction in my mother’s absence. I took a deep breath, stepped into his private viewing chamber, and got straight to the point.

I laid the deeds on the table, offering him every single property, estate, and asset my brothers had transferred to my name, keeping only Pompeli, which had originally belonged to me. "In exchange," I said, my voice steady, "you give me Tiberius, you let my brothers go, and we leave in peace."

He agreed. It felt dangerously easy, fishy beyond words, but I was too desperate to care.

His only condition was that Eden would be handed over to me immediately to be loaded onto a carriage for Pompeli after all, in the King’s eyes, the boy was completely useless. I, on the other hand, was required to sit by his side until the end of today's games, after which I would be permitted to slip away with my brothers into the dead of night.

I knew I couldn't truly trust him, but I had no other choice.

A few minutes later, Tiberius was brought before me. To my utter shock, he didn't look nearly as broken as I had imagined. His skin was clean, his wounds bandaged, and he looked almost remarkably taken care of. But I didn't waste time asking questions. I squeezed his hand briefly before the guards escorted him to a private, heavily shielded carriage that would guarantee his safe passage to Pompeli.

Left alone with my father, a strange, hollow feeling settled over me. As I sat across from him, watching him cut his meat with slow, deliberate precision, I realized I had never actually known the man. This was perhaps the first real conversation we had ever shared.

I stared at him, wondering if the horrifying rumours surrounding his name were true. People trembled at the mention of him, they hated him, not knowing what he was, a human or monster called him a merciless tyrant, a cold-blooded monster who ruled with an iron fist, . But speaking to him right now, he didn't seem like a tyrant. He just seemed utterly empty. Was he always misunderstood? Or did he simply not care? Was his cold nonchalance just a shield, a cowardly excuse that allowed my mother to oversee the kingdom's bloodiest affairs?

He must have felt the heavy weight of my eyes on him, sensing the profound pity bleeding from my gaze. He slowly laid his fork down, stared at his pale hands, and sighed, a sound so fragile it sounded like breaking glass.

"Medea I am sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling as he looked up with eyes drowning in a deeply tragic, gut-wrenching sadness.

My heart ached, but I was far beyond caring. A bitter, sarcastic laugh tore through my throat. "No, you don’t deserve to say such words."

"I do owe you an apology," he said softly, his chest heaving as if every word physically pained him. "I never meant for any of this to happen to our family, to you."

"Well, it did happen, when I needed you the most you weren’t there, you traded me for power and now you’re about to do it again, but this time around I am not the only one being affected, it’s the whole country!" I snapped, tears prickling the backs of my eyes as my voice cracked with raw grief. "You made sure of it! So many innocent lives, about to be destroyed, so many slaughtered in the dirt! Just for what? For power? For fame? For money?! How could you?!"

I leaned over the table, my chest heaving as the heartbreak turned into a searing, venomous fire. "You know, for a second, I was actually starting to feel for you. I sat here thinking you were probably a good man deep down, maybe just a bit overambitious and greedy, but I hoped that maybe you cared, that It was all for my own benefit, just maybe. But do you know what I realize now?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, looking into his hollow, weeping eyes.

"You're just a coward," I sobbed quietly, the words cutting through the heavy air. "You've got no spine. You have no balls at all, you can’t even admit the things you’ve done, that’s why you let me take all the blame and shame, that's why you hide behind a woman and let her pull the strings while you pretend to be blind. You are nothing, and I am not scared of you."

I blurted it all out in a single breath, my heart shattering into a thousand agonizing pieces. But even as the harsh truth hung between us, his face didn't twist in anger, he didn't even look defensive, he just sat there, utterly unfazed, cradling a dark, agonizing sorrow that had long since consumed his soul.

"Your brothers aren't going with you, Medea," he said quietly, looking down at the wooden table.

A cold knife plunged into my chest. "Why?"

"Because they won't be leaving this arena alive."

"How dare you?!" I shrieked, slamming my hands onto the table as tears finally cascaded down my cheeks. "How could you think so little of your own sons?! I could almost understand why a cowardly father wouldn't risk his skin to rescue them, but the fact that you don't even have an ounce of faith in their strength is disheartening! It's sickening!"

He shook his head slowly, looking at me with a tragic, pitying stare. "I have said all that I can say, Medea, and don't bother planning your escape tonight. The first round of the tournament ends today and you are going home with your husband."

In an instant, every single piece of the terrifying puzzle clicked into place.

The blood drained from my face. No wonder he was so eerily calm. No wonder my mother seemed so disturbingly cheerful this morning. The palace hadn't just been "emptied", it was being systematically scrubbed clean. The servants weren't being freed, they were being removed or executed because they were familiar with me, because they loved my brothers, because my parents couldn't risk a coup.

They had already auctioned me off to the highest bidder in exchange for a lifetime of unimaginable wealth and political power. Oh, how hopelessly naive I had been to believe my father would ever just let us walk away!

"Why?" I choked out, my voice barely audible. "Why free Tiberius, then?"

My father's eyes flickered with a quiet, terrible grief. "Oh that is not a story for me to tell."

"I am not staying!" I spat, standing up so fast my chair overturned against the stone floor. "Nor am I getting married to some sick, murderous stranger, I am not letting you use me as a bargaining chip gain, all in the effort to gain your love, no I am not doing that! And you can't do anything to stop me!"

"Yes, he can't," a sharp, melodious voice chimed from the doorway. "But I can."

My mother stepped out from behind the heavy velvet curtain, sweeping into full view like a beautiful, terrifying apparition.

My father instantly shrunk back, stepping quietly behind her like a mindless pawn waiting for its next instruction. He really was a coward.

My mother, however, looked terrifyingly radiant. She was draped in a breathtaking, glowing silk gown that caught every shaft of sunlight, her skin flawless, her hair styled to absolute perfection. She didn't care about the thousands of souls being butchered in the dirt outside, she only cared about looking flawless. Around us, every royal guest wore black or dull, muted tones to mourn the ongoing slaughter, but my mother stood out like a dazzling, wicked sun.

"You know I can, and I will," she warned, her sweet smile failing to mask the lethal ice in her eyes. "So do not test my patience, Medea. Follow the maids right now, let them dress you properly, for the games are about to end and the victor will be named. You need to look exquisite for your future husband and your new people. First impressions matter."

"And if I don't?" I hissed, clenching my fists until my nails bit into my palms.

"Let's just say" She tilted her head, giving me a serene, cruel smile. "we will start by sending you the severed head of your favourite brother."

"How could you?!" I screamed, the grief ripping out of my throat in a raw, ragged wail. "You are evil! You are an absolute monster! You don't deserve them! Why?! Why are you doing all of this?!"

"Oh, sweet child" She stepped closer, reaching out to gently stroke my cold cheek with her manicured fingernails. "Are you truly still sitting there wondering why I am not bothered by their deaths or yours?"

I recoiled from her touch, glaring at her through a blur of furious, heartbroken tears. "Are you even our mother?!"

"Oh, yes, honey, I am," she cooed smoothly, her eyes gleaming with an unholy light. "And I regret birthing every single one of you. But don't worry soon, I will have a perfect heir, an alpha and not some silly betas."

A hysterical, broken laugh escaped my lips. "This is hilarious you are literally butchering your own children because their not perfect, because they don’t qualify to be an alpha '?!"

"Darling, this is mercy," she snapped, her eyes flashing with a sudden, violent intensity. "Compared to what I was forced to endure when I was your age? At least I am not chopping off their heads in front of you with my own hands."

"You don't have to repeat history!" I pleaded, my voice breaking into soft, desperate sobs. "No one is perfect! We were your family!"

"No, you’re wrong," she whispered, her voice dropping into an eerie, hypnotic murmur. "someone is perfect, an alpha is perfect, just like your father, imagine what I could achieve with three of your father as sons or grandsons, I could conquer the continent."

"You're crazy!" I screamed, sinking to my knees as the utter hopeless horror of my reality crushed me. "You're insane! Please... please, Mom, don't do this!"

"I know," she murmured softly, sparing me one last, detached glance.

She raised her hand and gave a cold signal to the heavy guards and maids waiting in the shadows. They stepped forward instantly, gripping my arms with merciless iron hands.

"Mom, please! Don't do this! Please!"

As they dragged me out of the room, I wasn't even begging for my own life anymore. I had accomplished my goal, I had saved Tiberius, and I had evacuated my people to safety. Deep in my soul, I clung to the desperate hope that my brothers were strong enough to carve their own way out of that hellish arena.

No, I wasn't terrified of dying. I was terrified of the future they were building on our bones. And as the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind me, a dark, terrifying resolve settled into my shattered heart.

The only way to stop them from using me as their trophy breeding machine, was to die.