The ride to the Pit was tense with anticipation, but the real shift came when they reached the edge of that debauched, dangerous den of shadows. As the sun dipped low and the world turned gold, the pit began to hum—music, laughter, cries of pain and pleasure, the desperate symphony of vice.
They dismounted quietly, leaving the wagon and beasts tethered safely at a distance. Each of them adjusted their clothing, armor, and expressions like masks. Nyxia pulled her cursed bodysuit tight, the hood drawn to shroud her ears, shadows clinging to her like second skin. Boo was already sauntering ahead, her skintight body suit catching the light with a soft sheen. Darj lingered behind, eyes sharp beneath his hood, ever the watcher. Perseus stood tall, composed, but a muscle twitched along his jaw.
But then there was Eurydice.
As they passed through the outer threshold and into the velvet murk of the Pit's bustling heart, Eurydice became something else. Her steps were graceful and measured, the sound of her heels sharp and confident on the stone beneath her. The gown she wore clung to every curve, and the strategic gold chains that draped across her chest and hips gleamed like molten light in the low haze of lanterns and magical fire.
And trailing behind her… was her tail.
Long, smooth, sinuous — and utterly mesmerizing. The appendage had been meticulously adorned with delicate golden rings, each one affixed with a gem that shimmered like starlight. Divine script had been etched in the gold plating that held the gem, softly glowing with celestial energy. The markings weren't just ornamental; they pulsed faintly with Light, an aura of sacred protection clinging to her despite the raw sensuality of her appearance.
The Pit noticed.
Every step she took sent ripples of attention rolling through the crowd like waves. Patrons whispered, eyes followed, and some—men, women, others—couldn't resist brushing their hands lightly against her as she passed. Not groping, not disrespectful… but reverent. Curious. Drawn.
Fingertips skimmed the curve of her arm, the back of her hand, the dip of her waist. One bold elf murmured a drunken blessing as he stumbled past, utterly enthralled by the divine sigils on her tail.
"Who is that?" someone whispered.
"Light's Mercy, she looks like a goddess—"
"She's not from around here."
"No, but I want her to be…"
Eurydice didn't flinch. She smiled like a queen holding court in a den of wolves, letting the attention roll off her like rain on lacquered steel. She leaned slightly toward Nyxia as they navigated through the crowd, voice low and amused:
"Are you sure we're not here to rule this place instead of tear it down?"
Nyxia smirked faintly, the tension around her mouth relaxing just a touch. "One mission at a time."
Behind them, Perseus kept casting sidelong glances, his brows furrowed in a storm of complex emotions. Boo, though—she just gave a low whistle.
"Remind me to never stand next to you when I want to not be seen."
Eurydice's eyes glimmered with quiet mischief. "I did offer to stay behind."
"No," Nyxia muttered, "we need eyes on you. Every pair of them."
Because while they watched Eurydice… they wouldn't be watching the others.
And in the heart of the Pit, distraction could mean survival.
They had entered the wolves' den.
And tonight, they weren't prey.
They were the storm.
Arioch saw her the moment she stepped into the light.
Like a serpent sensing the flicker of flame, his void-shimmering eyes locked onto Eurydice with slow, predatory interest. The crowd parted unconsciously as he moved—his presence wasn't just commanding, it was dangerous. Tall, lean, dressed in finely tailored black silks that shimmered like the night sky, Arioch walked as though the Pit itself bent to his will.
And in many ways, it did.
He approached Eurydice with the fluid grace of a nobleman, or perhaps a demon who remembered how to pretend. His voice was velvet, honeyed and rich, but laced with something darker—decay beneath the sweetness.
"Well, well…" he began, stopping just within her space but never quite touching her. "The Pit has seen many things… but never quite you." His gaze drifted slowly down her form, lingering with blatant appreciation on the curve of her hips, the shimmer of chains, and the glowing script on her tail. "Divine. Cursed. Seductive. You wear all three like a queen."
Eurydice didn't so much as flinch. Her expression remained serene, almost amused—until his next words.
"You have the look of someone who might enjoy this world. One who could thrive in it. Tell me, would you like some company, my dear?"
He extended a hand—not to touch, but as a symbol. A test.
Behind her, Nyxia had already melted into the shadows with Boo, Darj, and Perseus. They'd made their way to one of the large, tiered seating areas that overlooked the fighting ring. Boo leaned casually on the rail, glancing down just as a pair of pit workers dragged out the next fighter.
Nyxia tossed a few silver coins to the bookie. "Just trying to blend in," she said with a forced smile.
The name on the slate caught her eye: Miri.
She stilled, her fingers curling slightly. She knew that name. A wild, scrappy fighter with a reputation for drawing out fights until her opponents either bled out or collapsed from exhaustion. Miri didn't win clean—she survived. There was a difference.
Perseus took a seat beside her, arms crossed. "You recognize her?"
Nyxia nodded. "She was in the holding cells. Before. Arioch liked her. She kept coming back broken, but never dead."
Boo tilted her head. "Think she's still herself?"
"We'll find out," Darj murmured.
Below, Miri emerged into the ring—scarred, muscled, long unrestrained red hair turning black towards the ends. Her eyes scanned the crowd like a hawk. She rolled her shoulders, flexed her hands, and readied herself as the announcer bellowed something unintelligible over the roar of the crowd.
Back near the entrance, Eurydice finally spoke, her tone smooth, honeyed, yet with the faintest edge of steel beneath the velvet.
"I'm afraid I don't take company from strangers."
Arioch's lips curled.
"Then allow me to fix that." He gave the faintest of bows. "Arioch. This little kingdom belongs to me." He glanced around as if it were merely a garden party. "And everything that happens within it… happens because I allow it to."
His voice dropped lower as he leaned in—not too close, but enough for her alone to hear.
"I know power when I see it, and I know hunger when it's hiding behind holy eyes. Be careful, angel… some demons bite deeper than they seem."
He pulled back with a smirk and turned on his heel, disappearing into the gloom with the ease of smoke.
Eurydice exhaled slowly, gaze steeled. The game had begun.
And Miri's fight below had just started.