Chapter 1 – The Blood That Chose Me

I never asked for this.

Not the sigil. Not the whisper in my veins. And definitely not the red seal that burned into my chest the night my brother died.

I remember the scent of blood first—his, not mine. Warm, metallic, real. It was raining too, not that the arena gods care about weather. That night was my first offering, even if no one called it that.

They say the Crimson Vein Arena chooses you. Not the other way around. You don’t sign up. You get claimed. And when it calls, you don’t get to say no.

I tried to ignore it. The dreams. The hallucinations. The way my hand started twitching every time I passed a mirror. The way I started hearing my brother’s voice, not like a ghost but like a memory trapped in my marrow.

But then the mark bloomed across my collarbone like a curse, and the door opened.

Literally.

A jagged split across reality, humming with the sound of cracked bone and breathless silence. I walked through before I could talk myself out of it.

And now I’m here. Standing in the outer ring of the arena.

Red sky. Black stone. Every other contender looks either terrified or cocky. I'm neither. I just want answers. And maybe revenge.

That’s when I see her—Lira Veyne.

She’s leaning against the arena wall like the fight hasn't even started yet. Her aura burns silver. Her eyes—cold, calculating—flick to me for a second too long. And in that second, I feel it.

The pull.

The bond I didn’t ask for.

The match I never saw coming.

Chapter 2 – She Who Does Not Bleed

People here bleed too easily.

One wrong glance, one cocky step, and they’re on the ground—wounded, panicking, or dead. It’s predictable. Weak. The arena isn’t kind to the impulsive.

That’s why I don’t fight unless I have to.

Not yet.

Not until the first offering bell tolls.

I lean against the wall of the preparation gate, eyes skimming the new recruits. Some look like they’ve been training for this their whole lives. Others... barely know which way to hold a blade.

And then there’s him.

Rael Kurohane.

He walks in like he’s been dragged here by something he doesn’t understand. Not arrogance. Not fear. Something else. Guilt, maybe. Grief. I’ve seen that look before—in myself.

The mark on his collarbone glows faintly. New blood. Chosen. And yet… his presence cracks the air like thunder. Raw power, tightly leashed. Dangerous, but not wild.

He doesn’t see me watching. Good. That’ll make the first test easier.

“Don’t stare too long,” mutters a voice beside me—Myrr, one of the older contenders. “That one’s got arena scent all over him.”

I don’t look away. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

Because here, in this cursed game of blood and soul, I don’t trust anyone who walks in clean. I trust the ones who’ve lost something.

And Rael Kurohane has clearly lost everything.

The bell rings—low, deep, ancient.

Time for the first blood round.

I push off the wall and step into the arena. He does too, thirty paces across. Our eyes meet—really meet—for the first time.

And I realize something I hate instantly.

If the arena doesn’t kill me…

He might.

Chapter 3 – The Space Between Blades

Rael

I can feel her watching me again.

Silver aura. Cold presence. Sharp like frost cutting through heat.

She’s not like the others—doesn’t flinch, doesn’t posture. Just watches, like she already knows how this ends.

I hate that.

The prep chamber echoes with footsteps, voices, tension so thick it hums through the floor. There’s a gate ahead, sealed shut. Behind it, the first trial. No one knows what it’ll be until it begins.

I shift my stance. Breathe once. Twice.

Then she speaks.

“Your mark’s fresh,” she says from behind me. “You’re either very lucky… or very stupid.”

I don’t turn to look at her. “Funny. I was thinking the same about you.”

She walks closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator sizing up another. Her boots stop just short of my shadow.

“You walk like someone who’s lost something,” she says. “Which means you’ll break when it matters.”

“I don’t break,” I reply flatly. “I burn.”

Her gaze narrows. “Fire’s pretty. But it runs out fast.”

For a moment, the air between us warps. Not with heat or magic—but with something deeper. A thread I don’t understand. A pull. Familiar. Foreign. Feral.

“I don’t need a partner,” I say, just to cut through the silence.

She smirks. “Good. Because I don’t babysit.”

Before I can answer, the gate thunders open. A blast of crimson light spills into the chamber, followed by a voice booming from nowhere:

“First Trial: Bloodbound Duel. You fight as pairs. If one dies, both fail.”

I turn slowly to face her. She’s already looking at me, her expression unreadable.

Of course.

Of course it’s her.

She sighs.

“Try not to bleed too much, fireboy.”

Chapter 4 – Bloodbound

Rael

The gates slam shut behind us. No turning back now.

The arena shifts under our feet—black stone breaking apart, floating platforms rising, pillars cracking through the mist. Everything smells like heat and iron.

And blood.

Lira stands at my side, blades already drawn. Twin sabers, curved and elegant. She moves like she was born with them in her hands.

I don’t draw mine yet. I let the arena speak first.

A heartbeat passes. Then the enemies rise.

Two of them—armored, silent, dripping with red aura. No faces. Just crimson and steel. Puppets, maybe. Or past contenders brought back to life. The arena likes to recycle pain.

“They’re linked,” Lira says quickly. “Strike one, the other adapts.”

“How do you know?”

“I read the arena archives.”

“Of course you did.”

They move. Fast.

The first rushes her. The second comes for me. I duck low, draw my blade in one fluid motion, and block the strike. Sparks fly. My arms shake.

These things are strong.

But I’m stronger.

I twist, drive my elbow into its neck—not that it has one—and slide my blade through its ribs. It staggers, just as the other one suddenly changes direction mid-swing, aiming not at Lira—but at me.

She curses under her breath, spins, and intercepts it cleanly.

“They’re synced to intent,” she mutters. “Not just wounds. They sense weakness.”

“Great. So no pressure.”

We move back-to-back, instinctively. Neither of us says it, but we both know: one wrong move, we both die.

And yet… something shifts in the air.

My chest burns. Not from the fight—from the mark. It pulses in time with hers. Our sigils glow faintly, flickering in sync. And in that moment, I feel it—

Her anger.

Her calculation.

Her fear.

Her fight.

Not thoughts. Not words. Just raw emotion.

“Are you feeling this too?” I ask, breath tight.

Lira doesn’t look at me. “Shut up and move left on my count. Three… two… now!”

I obey.

She sweeps low, I leap high, and our blades cut through both enemies at the same time—from opposite angles.

They collapse.

For a moment, everything is still.

Then the arena sighs, like it’s satisfied.

“Trial Complete. Pair survives.”

The gate opens again.

I turn to her. “That was—”

“Don’t get sentimental,” she snaps. But her breathing’s off. Her hand trembles slightly.

So does mine.

Because whatever just happened between us...

It wasn’t normal.

It wasn’t strategy.

It was connection.

And in this place, that’s more dangerous than any blade.

Chapter 5 – The One Who Should Be Dead

Lira

The mark is still pulsing.

Even after the enemies fell. Even after the gate opened. It’s like it doesn’t want to let go of him. Rael. Or maybe… me.

We haven’t said anything since the trial. He walks two steps behind, like he’s still deciding whether to trust me or run. Typical. That connection—whatever it was—rattled him more than the fight did.

It rattled me too.

But I won’t show it.

The waiting chamber hums as more fighters are brought in—survivors from other trials. Most are bruised. Some bleeding. One is laughing like they don’t know what fear is.

Then the temperature drops.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Because walking through the gate, casual as ever, is Kael Rennick.

Tall. Pale. Snake-slick smile.

And unmistakably alive.

I grip the hilt of my blade so hard my knuckles ache.

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be alive. I saw the report. I filed it myself. Kael Rennick—my former partner in the Syndicate, my rival, my betrayal—was executed after the Ember Cross Massacre.

Yet here he is, blood-marked and grinning like sin.

“Well well,” he purrs, eyes locking onto mine. “Didn’t expect to see you in the flesh, Lira. Let alone with a pet.”

Rael’s eyes flick to me, then to Kael. “You know him?”

“I did,” I mutter. “Before he sold out an entire faction to save himself.”

Kael shrugs like it's a compliment. “Still bitter? We make the choices we must. I lived. You survived. And now we’re all family in the arena.”

Rael steps forward slightly, his jaw tight. “You want something?”

Kael eyes him like a cat sizing up prey. “Just curious what kind of connection the arena's cooking up between you two. You look... untested. Breakable.”

“We passed our trial,” I snap. “You?”

Kael just smiles. “Mine begged for mercy.”

I don't respond. I can’t. My heart’s thudding too loud.

Because Kael’s presence means two things.

One—he made a deal with something worse than death.

And two—he knows what happened that night. The truth I buried. The secret I killed for.

Rael doesn’t know it yet, but he just got pulled into a war far bloodier than the arena wants us to believe.

Chapter 6 – The Ember Cross Massacre

Lira — Two Years Ago

I told myself it wasn’t betrayal.

It was strategy.

Survival.

Just another mission.

But that night—that night—is burned into me deeper than any sigil.

We were the Syndicate’s top pairing—Kael Rennick, the manipulator, the charmer, the liar. And me—the blade. The one who cleaned up the blood and never asked where it came from.

The Ember Cross compound was supposed to be a clean job. Infiltrate. Extract. Leave no trace. But Kael had other plans.

The alarms went off ten minutes early.

Children screaming.

Men falling.

Blood everywhere.

By the time I reached the inner sanctum, Kael was already there—standing over the body of our contact, her throat slit. His hands weren’t even shaking.

“Why?” I asked him, my voice ice.

He didn’t even blink. “Because chaos gets you noticed. And I’m tired of being in the shadows.”

“You sold us out.”

“I upgraded us.”

He stepped forward, touched my cheek with bloodied fingers. “You’re better than this. Than them. Come with me.”

I should’ve killed him then.

But I hesitated. And in that hesitation, he smiled.

The Syndicate marked him for execution. I made sure the report buried him deep.

Even forged the name of the one who dealt the final blow.

Me.

Because if I couldn’t kill him… I had to erase him.

And now he’s back. Breathing. Watching me with that same crooked smile.

Rael doesn’t know any of this. Not yet.

But if Kael’s here, it’s not for the prize. It’s for me.

And I won’t let him drag me down again.