The Deadliest Game (The Blood Tournaments Book 2): A YA Dystopian Romance by Daniela A. Mera

Author:Daniela A. Mera [Mera, Daniela A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Golden Glow Press
Published: 2023-07-09T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

My last night with my friend

Magda smiled at me while she lay beside me in my enormous bed. A comfortable familiarity came with being with my chosen sister once more. Blood or not, she was still my best friend. After learning that my brother had drowned next to me, her friendship felt all the much more sweet. The soft glow of the moonlight streamed through the thin curtains, casting a silvery hue over the plush velvet bedding that adorned Antonio’s guest room.

A flicker of silver danced across the room, casting a delicate pattern on the wall. I thought of Santiago while Magda explained how they were bound through blood. When she painted the experience with words, it was easy to imagine his quiet strength and his once-broody demeanor turned to sunshine rays. He lit up when he was with her.

“Magda, you licked his blood?” I whispered, thinking back to what had happened with Antonio the night he kissed me.

Our blood didn’t call to each other—I would’ve felt it. Antonio was simply helping me to heal.

Emotion rose in my throat, threatening to choke me. I couldn’t think about this right now.

Magda hesitated for a moment, biting her lip nervously. “Well, it sounds stranger than it felt. Santiago called it the Sanguine Call.”

I furrowed my brow, trying to recollect what Antonio had mentioned about this mysterious type of bond. He said it was a rare phenomenon. “The Sanguine Call... isn’t that some sort of blood-bonding ritual?”

“Exactly,” Magda breathed. “Yes, that’s part of it. But there’s more to it than just the bond, Carmen. Santiago is kind and gentle... and he loves me.” Her cheeks flushed. The words hung in the air, weighted with a significance that sent shivers down my spine. She was never like this with anyone, never shy or fleeting. It was hard to make her blush.

Something was different.

“You slept with him.” The answer appeared like the context between the lines of a story. I was irrationally angry since I had known about them for a while. The possibilities swirling between Antonio and I turned into alarms sounding in my ears, and I sat up. “What happened to Ronaldo?”

She bolted upright on the bed as well. “Carmen—”

“He’s an Élite,” I interrupted, my voice quivering. “You are putting yourself in danger by doing this with him. How is it going to end?”

Her cheeks flushed. “You don’t understand.”

I scoffed. “Magdalena, I understand all too well. He will have to get married after the tournament, just like me. What will you do when he has a wife?”

She sat there, glaring at me and breathing heavily. Even though the words were intended for her, they struck me in the heart just the same.

The Canciller had just been testing me during that interview. He knew about the lies published in tabloids.

Antonio was impossible. Getting close to him was a mistake. What if the Canciller had already promised him to someone else?

I saw no other women, but I was making a mistake in loving him. I would be hurt just like I had been as a young and foolish girl writing him a letter.

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