Chapter 27 · The Fake Spouses Under Lightning

The gates of the Thunder Pit opened at dawn.

Lightning crawled across the iron ribs of the arena roof, white veins trapped beneath glass and brass. Each strike made the entire floating city shudder. Below the suspended stands, the pit dropped through three levels of reinforced stone, ending in a circular floor of black conductite veined with molten blue light.

Nora stood at its center with one hand pressed against her ribs and the other wrapped around a borrowed shock-blade.

The blade hummed like an angry insect. Its grip was too large. Its balance was worse. She had repaired better weapons for men who had apologized less before dying.

Beside her, Kane rolled his poisoned shoulder. His left arm still hung slightly stiff, but the faint glow beneath his skin had returned, threading from his wrist to his throat in thin silver lines. The lightning in the arena answered him with a low, hungry growl.

Nora kept her face turned toward the opposite gate.

“Try not to look terrified,” Kane murmured.

“I’m not terrified.”

“You’re holding that blade backward.”

She glanced down. The cutting edge was, in fact, pointed toward her own thigh.

Nora turned it around without blinking.