Темнейшее поражение полностью

The Darkest Surrender

by Gena Showalter

Lords of the Underworld - 11

Аннотация

Possessed by the demon of Defeat, Strider cannot lose a challenge without suffering unimaginable pain. For him, nothing stands in the way of victory. Until Kaia, an enchanting Harpy, tempts him to the razor’s edge of surrender.

Known among her people as The Disappointment, Kaia must bring home the gold in the Harpy Games or die. Strider is a distraction she can’t afford because he as an agenda of his own – steal first prize, an ancient godly artifact, before the winner can be named. But as the competition heats up, only one prize will matter – the love neither had thought possible…

To Donna Glass, a real-life Bianka Skyhawk.

Your support and enthusiasm for the

Lords of the Underworld thrills me more than I can

ever say. Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank

you! (Did I mention I’m thankful?) And from all of the

warriors currently residing in the Budapest fortress:

you’re welcome to come over anytime. Gideon adds:

And I hope like hell you don’t! Also, Lysander says

there’s a cloud with your name on it—next to his.

PROLOGUE

Fifteen hundred years ago…

Or

A million years ago…

(Just depends on who you ask.)

FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER, the bi-century Harpy Games ended with more participants dead than alive, and every single one of the survivors knew fourteen-year-old Kaia Skyhawk was to blame.

The day began innocently enough. With the morning sun shining brightly, Kaia strolled through the overcrowded camp hand in hand with her beloved twin sister, Bianka. Tents of every size littered the area, and multiple fires crackled to ward off the early-morning chill. The scents of filched biscuits and honey coated the air, making her mouth water.

Forever cursed by the gods, Harpies could only eat what they stole or earned. If they ate anything else, they sickened horribly. So Kaia’s breakfast had been a meager affair: a stale rice cake and half a flagon of water, both of which she’d pilfered from a human’s saddle.

Maybe she’d appropriate a biscuit from a member of a rival clan, she mused, then shook her head. No, she’d just have to remain semi-hungry. Her kind didn’t live by many rules, but the ones they had, they revered. Such as: never fall asleep where humans could find you, never reveal a weakness to anyone and, most importantly, never thieve a single morsel of food from one of your own race, even if you hated her.

“Kaia?” her sister said, her tone curious.

“Yes?”

“Am I the prettiest girl here?”

“Of course.” Kaia didn’t even have to look around to confirm that fact. Bianka was the prettiest girl in the entire world. Sometimes she forgot, though, and had to be reminded.

While Kaia had a disgusting mop of red hair and unremarkable gray-gold eyes, Bianka had luxurious black hair, shimmering amber eyes and was the image of their exalted mother, Tabitha the Vicious.

“Thank you,” Bianka said, grinning with satisfaction. “And I think you’re the strongest. By far.”

Kaia never tired of hearing her sister’s praise. The more powerful a Harpy was, the more respect she earned. From everyone. More than anything, Kaia craved respect. “Stronger, even, than…” She studied the Harpies in the area, searching for someone to compare herself to.

Those who were old enough to participate in the traditional tests of might and cunning bustled about, preparing for the one remaining event—Last Immortal Standing. Swords whistled as they were tugged from sheaths. Metal ground against stone as daggers were sharpened.

Finally, Kaia spotted a contender for her comparison. “Am I stronger, even, than her?” she asked, pointing to a brute of a woman with bulging muscles and thick crisscrossing scars adorning her arms.