She opened her eyes reflexively. There was no trace of amusement on his beautiful face.
“Surrender,” he repeated almost gently. “Surrender or I’ll make you do it.”
“Why are you doing this?” she rasped out.
“You know why.”
Lannahi wanted to deny it, but there wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in his golden eyes. Nihhal had his plan and he was going to carry it out.
“Stop the duel!” Nimmat’s voice swept through the arena. “On behalf of the Arbiter Council, I call Nihhal and Lannahi in testimony.”
Lannahi’s eyes widened. She was afraid to believe the hope she’d buried deep under a heap of despair. Could it be that some of the wind-winged guards heard Nihhal revoking the curse he’d cast on her?
A similar thought must have crossed his mind because Nihhal clenched his jaw. “I underestimated you, Lannahi,” he said, moving his finger across her cheek.
She wanted to reach into her belt pack, but he held down her hand.
“Be silent. If anyone other than Sarkal attacks me, you will suffocate and die. Now get up.”
Lannahi rose to her feet like a puppet being pulled by strings. Nihhal stood next to her and looked at Sarkal, who was standing by the railing in the first row.
“King of Goldenshadows,” he shouted. “If anyone besides you attacks me, your daughter will die. Come to the arena and fight me. You can refuse, but if you do, my army, which now surrounds your capital, will raze it to the ground. Choose.”
In the stands sat the most powerful fae in the world. To immobilize them with words alone was no small feat, but Nihhal succeeded. A daughter or a city—to give such a choice was tantamount to declaring war, but no one had the right to interfere in Sarkal’s decision.
“I accept your challenge,” Lannahi’s father said aloud.
Taking advantage of that his attention was focused on Sarkal, Lannahi slipped a knife out of her sleeve and prepared to strike Nihhal in the throat. Despite his surprise, he managed to move away and block her attack. He jerked her wrist and Lannahi dropped her knife. Nihhal bent her arms back and drew her up hard against his chest.
“Don’t move,” he said impatiently.
Lannahi would have gone still even if he hadn’t ordered her to do so. She couldn’t breathe. She was suffocating.
Nihhal quickly realized his mistake. He revoked all his enchantments and repeated only the last one.
“It seems that your daughter doesn’t want to be saved,” he said aloud to Sarkal, “but the citizens of your city won’t have opportunity to express their opinions.”
As her father moved toward the stairs leading down into the arena, Nihhal whispered in her ear, “I should kill you, but for you, it wouldn’t be a punishment, would it?”
Lannahi breathed heavily. When Nihhal straightened, she knew something bad was about to happen, but she didn’t know who she needed to warn. She couldn’t even move her body into the direction where Nihhal was looking.
“Kill him,” Nihhal murmured, then turned her so she could see his curse in effect.
Ashared stood between the columns marking the entrance to the arena. Despite her earlier insistence, he’d escorted her to the waiting room. Nihhal had greeted their closeness with an indulgent smile, but Lannahi should have known that this smile heralded misery. She should have warned Ashared…
The sword that her lover carried at his waist slid out of its scabbard on its own and stabbed him in the stomach.
No!Lannahi wanted to scream but her mouth refused to open.
“Defy me again, and I will do the same to your mother,” Nihhal whispered.
A commotion erupted in the stands, but all Lannahi saw was Ashared falling to the ground. She couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t end like this…
Kill him.
Tears pricked her eyes. She was frozen. She could only stand and watch as her love was brutally murdered before her.
Suddenly, Nihhal released her. She heard him gasp, and then there was a thud as if someone had fallen to the ground.
