“You have no effect on me,” she replied defiantly, rebelling against the sensations she was experiencing, but I knew her well—I knew everything about her.

  “You keep lying.” I lowered myself onto her and brushed my nose against her cheek, sliding my hand up her thigh. “Make love with me,” I whispered against her lips.

  “No. It’s forbidden.”

  “If you remembered, you would know I’ve never cared about the rules. Your blood flows within me. I am your Champion.”

  “You have to win for me before you can have me.”

  “I’m going to win for you. I’ll kill them all just so I can touch you again.” I kissed her on the neck and she closed her eyes, excited by my promise. Clasping her buttocks, I held her tight against me so she could feel how much I desired her. “But first tell me why.” She looked me in the eye, weighing the answer to the question she’d already read in my mind. “Why did you stop Devina? It was a serious insult, but you did it anyway. Say it.”

  “Because you’re mine,” she hissed, staring at me intensely, leaving me on the edge of insanity.

  “You’re wrong.” I spread her legs roughly and pulled her even closer. My fingers clutched her undergarment and tore it off. “It’s you who are mine.” I entered her and kept her tightly pressed against me as she cried out. I rested my cheek on her chest, on the brink of exploding from the emotions rushing through me. Gemma clung to the cushions, her muscles clenched to hold me close. Her nails scratched my back as I moved inside her. All my frustration faded, swept away by the passion only she could nourish. I held her hands over her head and kissed her with desperation.

  Unwilling to be tamed, she was on top of me in a flash. For a moment I was afraid she was going to make me stop, but then she gazed into my eyes and removed her bodice, freeing her supple breasts. My hands slowly moved up her sides to stroke her nipples and she moaned, moving slowly on top of me. I was breathless. I’d spent months chasing her, longing for her. And now she wanted me. I was inside her and didn’t want to let her go ever again. I propped myself up to be closer to her and caressed her back through her long hair.

  “You’re a madman,” she murmured, her arousal growing. “I should kill you for this affront.”

  “You won’t,” I assured her. “You’ll come to visit me every night, against all the rules.” I ran my thumb over her lip and she took it into her mouth. “Because you’re like me: we aren’t made for rules.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she gasped, crying out with pleasure. “You’ve taken my body. Let my mind be free.”

  “I am in you as you are in me,” I told her in Sanskrit. “In my heart. In your soul. I’m not giving up until you remember.” I began kissing her again passionately and she scratched my chest, her poisoned nails leaving marks. I groaned, caught between pain and pleasure. “Were you with others before me?” I asked, the blood boiling in my veins at the thought.

  “No one,” she replied, a helpless victim of the power that ruled us both.

  “Devina’s Soldiers?” I insisted. “Tell me and I’ll kill every last one of them.”

  “You’re my Champion. No one else.”

  “Jamie,” I moaned.

  She squeezed her legs around my waist and arched her back, reaching the climax of her pleasure. I rested a hand on her nape and ran my lips down her neck. “I missed you so much,” I whispered, brushing my cheek against her skin as our intertwined bodies trembled from having found each other again. “It’s amazing to hear your voice again. Keep talking to me. I’ve waited an eternity. I thought I would die without you.”

  She was silent, letting my words wander inside her. For a moment I deluded myself that I’d finally found her. Her fingers stroked the tattoo on my thumb, so similar to hers, then rose up my arm and traced the deep scar that ran from my bicep to my shoulder. When she lowered her eyes to the one on my chest, her brow furrowed. “You’ve already been our prisoner,” she said softly, guessing it for the first time.

  “I’m not your prisoner,” I stated, drawing her against me to kiss her. But she moved away and stood up, her back to me. I admired her naked body, her long hair flowing down her back, her toned muscles and golden skin. She was a goddess. “I’m here only for you, to remind you of what we had . . . to take you back.”

  A maidservant burst into the room. “Everything is ready, my lady.” It was Meryall. She went to Gemma and helped her dress, stealing glances at my naked body.

  “Inform the Empress that she may announce me.” Her command called the young woman to attention and she immediately looked down, embarrassed. “Today a new Champion battles in the Opalion.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The maidservant bowed and left the room.

  “Forget the past, Soldier,” Gemma said, sheathing her weapons behind her back.

  “No!” I got up from the bed and approached her from behind, taking her by the arms.

  “We’re here in the present and you will battle as my Champion. My blood flows inside you. What more could you possibly want?” she said without turning around.

  “Your body isn’t enough. I want your mind. Your heart belongs to me and sooner or later you’ll realize that for yourself,” I promised. I wasn’t willing to give up now that I was so close.

  Gemma moved away, stopping at the door. “My heart belongs to Sophìa. You will never have it. And you’d better fight well or you won’t have anything else either. Go and kill them all, my Gladiator. Be my Champion or die for me. Good luck. Gahl sum keht.” She looked me in the eye one last time and left the room, leaving me alone.

  I knew those words in Kahatmunì, the Witches’ tongue. They meant “Forge your glory.” I couldn’t believe that after making such passionate love to me her coldness had returned so quickly. If her expression had been a blade, it would have pierced my heart.

  I laced up my brown leather pants and sat on the bed, disheartened. In those moments when I’d been inside her, I’d deluded myself that everything had returned to what it was before, that she was mine again. I rested my elbows on my knees and covered my face with my hands, frustrated. I couldn’t give up. Not now, of all times. I would win the Opalion for her—with her blood in my body nothing could stop me. During battle she would ignite it, making it burn in my veins, giving me supernatural strength. I would slaughter them all just to be with Gemma again, because the thought of not being able to have her again was killing me.

  “Evan.”

  My head shot up as a hooded figure stepped before me. I recognized the voice instantly, there was no doubt about it. “Ginevra. What are you doing here?” I gasped, approaching her.

  She pushed her hood back, revealing her face. “You’re in danger, Evan.”

  I looked around, on my guard, and tried to touch her but found myself grabbing only air. She was an illusion. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

  “There’s no time for questions. Listen carefully. Simon’s power is working. It took root inside Gemma and continues to unearth her memories. Sophìa knows it and you’ve become a threat to her. She’s afraid of losing Gemma because of you. That’s why she called for an Opalion in Gemma’s honor and is letting you fight for her—she wants to get rid of you. Anya warned us just in time.”

  “I’m going to fight,” I growled fiercely. Nothing was going to keep me away from Gemma.

  “No. We won’t let you. Sophìa gave the order to kill you, Evan. You’re going to die in the arena today.”

  “Does Gemma know?” That possibility alone was enough to kill me.

  “No, of course not. She chose you as her Champion—she would never accept it. But if you die in battle she won’t be able to object.”

  I clenched my fists. If Sophìa felt I was such a threat, that meant I had an actual shot at getting Gemma back. “I can’t give up now, of all times. She’s starting to remember!” I insisted.

  “That’s not enough for her to cast off evil. She needs to remember everything before she can find herself. I’ve been through it.”

  “I need more time.”

  “You don’t have any! And neither do I. We need to act fast, before they discover I’m here.”

  “Here where?” I asked, voicing a terrible suspicion.

  “In Hell, Evan. I’m already here, with Simon, Drake, and Stella.”

  I knit my brows in shock. “Are you out of your mind? What does Simon have to say about this? I can’t believe he approved something so insane.”

  “It was his idea and I backed him up.”

  “You were both banished. Sophìa put a death sentence on you.”

  “We’re prepared to fight—for you and for our lives.”

  “It’s too risky. You have to get out of here!”

  “It’s too late. We’re not going to let them kill you. We’re going to attack the Castle.”

  “No! I can do this. Don’t risk your lives for me. I can’t allow it!”

  “It’s already been decided. We’ve gathered an army under my command, and there’s an entire militia of rebels inside the Castle who will help us. We’re getting you out of here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without Gemma.”

  “You won’t be any good to her if you’re dead!”

  “I don’t want to put you in danger. It was my decision to come here. I’m going to see it through. I’m fighting.”

  “You can’t. They’ll kill you!”

  “I’ll die if I have to. I’m not leaving here without Gemma.”

  “We’ll take Gemma with us,” Ginevra said.

  “How?”

  “We’ll take her, I promise you. Trust me, Evan. Trust all of us. There’s only one way to save your life: by forcing Sophìa to let you go.”

  “How can anyone force the devil to do something?”

  “By declaring war.” Ginevra stared at me, in her eyes pure determination.

  “You know what a war would mean, don’t you? Your Sisters would be in danger. Are you willing to run that risk despite the Bond?”

  “My bond is with you now. My Sisters gave me destruction and death—the death of those I loved, of those I didn’t know, the death of my soul. You gave me back myself. You’re my family now. Besides, don’t think it’s so easy to face them in battle. They know how to defend themselves from your angel fire, though for them it’s as lethal as the death of their serpents.”

  I nodded. It must have pained her greatly to say it. “Kill a Witch’s Dakor and the Witch dies with it.”

  “I hope it won’t come to that,” she murmured, distraught. I could see that the idea of joining forces against her Sisters caused one part of her tremendous pain—but the other part had chosen Gemma and me. She looked at me. “What about you? Are you ready to battle the Witches?”

  “I’ve been training with one of them for centuries,” I replied with a laugh, feeling not a shadow of fear. “What’s the plan?”

  “We’re attack—”

  The doors swung open all at once and I spun around. Ginevra vanished an instant before four Soldiers burst into the room to escort me out. The horn blew, announcing the beginning of the Games. The Subterraneans gathered my weapons and walked me to the threshold. For a moment there was silence, then the doors were opened. I strode out and everyone in the stands cheered when they saw me.

  The courtyard had been transformed into an amphitheater. I made my way to the center of it and looked around. All of Hell seemed to have flocked to the event. The stands were packed with the Damned—brave Souls who were risking death just to experience the thrill of witnessing the Games. The Opalion was the only occasion for which Sophìa opened the Castle gates, and for this one she must have spread the word far and wide throughout the kingdom. I scanned the crowds, searching for my friends among the hooded faces. Ginevra hadn’t had time to explain their plan, but her promise was enough for me: We’ll take Gemma with us. Until then, there was only one thing for me to do.

  Fight.

  The Witches were already in position—nine black panthers in a circle, staring at me. Devina’s amber eyes flashed at me. I would have recognized them in whatever form she took. Even now they had a defiant gleam and suddenly I remembered what she had said as she took her leave: Goodbye, Soldier. So she’d known about Sophìa’s plan—she must have.

  “Silence!” thundered a commanding voice. The entire arena fell silent. I turned and saw her. Sophìa was standing on a dais reserved for the Witches. Beside her was Gemma. They both wore bizarre steampunk outfits with dark yet sexy tones and, on their faces, black markings that looked like tattoos.

  Sophìa and the Witch of Honor were the only ones who would preside over the Games in their human form until they were joined by the Sister who would offer up her Champion for the duel. The others had the task of guarding the edge of the Circle in their animal form, prepared to tear to shreds any of the Damned or Subterraneans who dared set foot outside of it.

  “My dear lost Souls,” the Empress began. “I am pleased you have come in such great numbers, as today is an important day—not only for the Sisterhood but for all of you. What better occasion than an Opalion to give you such happy news? It is with immense pride that I announce to you that the kingdom has a new commander: our Sister Naiad.” Gemma rose to her feet and the crowd cheered for her. “Honor her as you have done with those who came before her over the centuries. Obey her commands and be willing to die for her.”

  The snarl of a panther filled the arena—Devina opposing the affront—but the other panthers instantly drowned her out, rejoicing for Gemma and her new appointment.

  “This Opalion is for Naiad and it will determine the valor of her new Champion. He will undergo grueling trials and challenges. If he is valiant enough a worthy opponent will be chosen to face him in a duel. Only one will be declared the victor, rendering honor and glory unto his Amìsha. May the show begin! Good luck, Champion. Forge your glory.”

  Sophìa sat down and I prepared to fight.

  THE OPALION

  I stood at attention, muscles rippling, as I awaited the first challenge. A swarm of black butterflies flew in my direction. I watched them as they circled me and immediately flew away. Each transformed into a threatening-looking Soul. In a flash I was surrounded. The spectators held their breath until the first one came forward. He was a tall, dangerous-looking man wearing seventeenth-century clothing. He’d been the first to make a move, but that didn’t make him any braver than the rest—it just made him my first victim. I smiled, my eyes trained on him in an ominous invitation. The man leapt toward me and attacked with a dagger he whipped out at the last second. I dodged it though he dealt me a glancing blow. I grabbed the Soul by the arm and head-butted him. Black liquid gushed from his forehead and he fell to the ground, dazed. He tried to get to his feet, reaching for the dagger he’d dropped, but I crushed his hand beneath my foot. Tearing away from him a piece of sharpened wood he’d kept hidden behind his back, I swiftly slashed his throat.

  The crowd remained silent for a moment, stunned by how quickly I’d killed him, and then burst into enthusiastic cheers and shouts. The decapitated body fell to the ground and exploded in a cloud of smoke. I raised my eyes to the other Damned, daring them to make their move. One of them let out a cry of fear and fled toward the edge of the Circle, but a panther chased him and tore him to pieces. Seconds later all that was left of him was ash.

  Two of the Damned advanced together. They must have been brothers, because they resembled each other greatly. They too were armed. With my foot I flicked my first opponent’s dagger into the air and caught it. I flipped the weapon in my hand, waiting for the brothers’ move. They looked bloodthirsty, and with good reason: their survival was at stake. But I had an even stronger motivation: I was fighting for Gemma.

  One of them gave a war cry and launched his attack, but I wasn’t about to be intimidated. I waited until he was close and grabbed him, using his own momentum to flip him and send him crashing into his brother. They got up and attacked together. I blocked a punch from the smaller one and used his arm for leverage as I jumped up and delivered a double kick to the larger one, who ended sprawled on the ground. But my grip was too brutal; the smaller one’s arm snapped and he fell to his knees, screaming in pain. I seized my chance and drove the dagger into his throat.

  “Sorry,” I told his brother. “Didn’t want to make him suffer.”

  He glared at me with hatred and launched another attack. Just then the smaller one turned to dust and I snatched up the dagger as the second Soul rushed at me, sinking the sharp blade into his neck. He gurgled, black blood gushed from his mouth, and he too was reduced to ashes.

  Overjoyed, the spectators went wild, but I was just warming up. I raised my eyes to the Panthior, the platform of honor, and Gemma gave me a pleased look. “I’m going to win for you,” I told her in my mind, and she smiled at me, her Witch eyes glittering craftily.

  At her side, Sophìa stared at me with fire in her eyes. At the tournaments she acted as Stage Director, transforming the playing field and increasing the difficulty of the trials. When she made her move, I wouldn’t be unprepared. She flung out her hand in a challenging gesture and heavy bars sprang from the ground and bent around me, sealing me inside a small cage together with my new adversaries: the most ferocious Souls selected during the Hunt. Against some other Subterranean they might have had a chance, but not against me. I was the most ruthless of them all. In that arena, I was the lion.

  Some of them climbed onto the ceiling of the cage and crawled over my head while others crept up behind me. I studied their movements. All my opponents were armed and I was surrounded. My only defense was to attack. I charged at one of them, dropped to my knees, and slid across the ground. Wresting the sword away from him, I struck a brutal blow, chopping two adversaries in half. Black blood spurted from their bodies. As I was getting up I threw a right hook at another one and took his sword. I spun around and two heads tumbled to the ground. With Gemma’s blood in my body I felt invincible. A Soul swooped down onto me from the ceiling of the cage but I shot backwards and slammed him against the bars. The blow left him dazed and he let go, but two more dropped down and held my arms as a third came and bludgeoned me in the face. Blood filled my mouth. I slowly turned my head until my eyes met his. The ferociousness on my face was enough to leave him unsteady on his feet. I spat out the blood and freed myself with a backflip as the third Soul fled—but he wasn’t going to escape me. I chased him down and slit his throat.