Page 215 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
Alina felt her entire body lock in place, suspended as though trapped inside an invisible prison. She could not move, could not breathe properly, could not even lower the dagger in her hand.
Only Saren remained free.
Still kneeling before her, the woman laughed softly.
Then she rose.
Saren brushed the dust and blood from her trousers, stepped closer, and stood face to face with Alina. Her expression brimmed with amusement as she leaned in, her face inches from the princess’s.
And she stared directly into Alina’s eyes.
‘This is what it means to fight a god,’ Saren whispered.
Her voice curled through the warm air like a blade drawn slowly from its sheath.
‘I will allow you to kill this body, Alina Acheron. But I will return. And when I do, I will take something from you.’ Her smile widened, cruel and certain. ‘So be ready to pay the price of war.’
Alina’s eyes flickered upward.
Above them, the thousands of spectators remained suspended in perfect stillness—mouths frozen mid-shout, spittle caught in the air, fists lifted in furious anticipation. It was as though the entire arena had been turned into a statue carved from a single moment.
Her gaze found Kai.
She wondered what he saw right now.
Perhaps nothing at all. Perhaps this strange pause in time lasted only a heartbeat beyond mortal perception. So brief that, to the rest of them, it would feel as though no time had passed at all.
Saren leaned closer.
‘It was a pleasure meeting you, Alina Acheron,’ she said, her wicked smile deepening. ‘Until next time.’
Then time snapped back into place.
Everything happened too quickly.
Alina’s dagger plunged into Saren’s side, but even as the blade pierced flesh, Saren forced herself upright, moving with a last, desperate burst of strength. Her own dagger struck just asswiftly, driving deep into Alina’s side.
Pain exploded through Alina’s body.
She collapsed onto the sand, teeth clenched as blood surged from the wound. Her dagger slipped from her grasp as both hands flew instinctively to her side, trying in vain to stem the warm flood pouring between her fingers.
Saren fell too.
But even in her dying state, she lunged forward and seized Alina, shoving her hard against the ground and pinning her there.
Her grip clamped around Alina’s left arm.
Her fingers dug into the skin, tearing it open.
Alina felt the slow drip of blood from Saren’s wound falling onto her own body. The cut she had inflicted was deep, terribly deep. Alina knew it in that instant.
Saren had only seconds left.
The Dunayan seemed to realise it too.
And before her strength deserted her completely, she lifted her desert dagger one final time.
The blade came down.
