Hall of Games [ REWRITE ] | The Varya Chronicles #1

Chapter Thirty-Four

Cole stood in front of her, staring at her with his sad, brown eyes.

"Cole." She rushed forward to hug him, but her arms went through his body.

"You should have told me about your deal with the Polong," Cole said. "I deserve to know."

"I swear I wanted to tell you, but I just couldn't find the right occasion."

Excuses, the Polong said. You had every chance to tell him about our little pact.

She tuned out the Polong's voice. "I'm afraid the truth would overwhelm you. I-I couldn't."

"You lying to me is worse than Papa's death." Cole took a step forward. "Why can't you just tell me? You know I won't be mad at you."

"I'm just afraid you would leave me," she whispered. "Everybody I love is gone, I can't bear to lose you."

"Oh, Cady," her brother said. He stepped forward and dissipated into smoke.

Tears ran down her cheeks.

"Little one, wake up."

Cadence groaned and opened her eyes. She turned over to the brilliant sunlight pouring through the window.

"So, the human lives," the voice said.

Cadence sat up and scrambled for her daggers.

"Looking for these?" The Ancient waved her daggers in front of her face. He was pinching the hilts tentatively with two fingers on each hand.

"Give them back!"

"No," he said. "If I hand over the only things that can wound me, you'll cause me a headache, and I've just recovered from a terrible ordeal. Not interested in going through the drama again."

In the broad daylight, Cadence could see the Ancient as a whole. He looked different. He was less bestial, more human. His scales and talons were gone, his skin was now a smooth ebony, devoid of crystalline scales. The only Rakasha-looking feature that retained was the great pair of curved horns poking from his majestic black curls and his large wings. His bad wing had straightened out and was folded behind his back.

He turned to look at her, and her heart gave a sharp leap. His human face slapped Cadence in the heart—beautiful amethyst eyes, canines, and a smug smile. A tight shirt clung to his muscles. She tried to avert her eyes as she followed the shirt's trajectory right down to his breeches.

"The human likes what she sees, no?"

"No," she responded a bit too fast. The Ancient laughed in his handsome, baritone voice.

"Humans are all drawn to beautiful things. It's their nature, and it makes them easy to exploit."

"So says the one who almost got himself killed yesterday."