Free A Star is Born: The Coming Dawn: Book I by Austen Knowles Page A

wishing he would move fast and win easily.
    “Do you smell that? Is that her? It’s…” A warrior in the crowd whispered, and smelled as his nose lifted skyward and revolved in her direction. His eyes locked onto Ky. He yelled for all to hear: “I want her.” A few others fell in suit, claiming Ky. “I’ll fight you for her, Cobaaron.”
    Ky glimpsed Cobaaron. There was murder in his eyes. Men poured onto the stage eager for their chance to duel Cobaaron. Ten, twenty, and then thirty or more warriors made their way forward. Ky gripped her chair. The fight wasn’t fair. Every one of them had weapons, while Cobaaron had none. She felt hot, and her glowing intensified. “I do smell that,” a councilman whispered behind her. The sound of his voice rung like gunfire and made Ky jump.
    Without warning, all the warriors sprung into action. They lunged toward Cobaaron before any announcement was given to make the fight begin. Cobaaron spun as a warrior thrust a sword. But then three men surrounded him in an instant. Cobaaron stole a sword after breaking a warrior’s wrist. Then he slit the man’s throat in one solid motion. He extended his arm jabbing the weapon into another warrior’s ribs with such power even the handle of the blade forced its way into his body.
    He spun with even more speed as he ducked. He wrenched a shield with a foot long spike off the arm of a warrior. Immediately, he decapitated a man with the edge of the shield. As Ky watched, everyone else seemed to move slowly, while Cobaaron alone gained yet more speed. He thrust the spike into another man’s heart, and sliced another warrior in the gut with the shield, leaving it in his side.
    Ky gasped, but she wanted to scream. She never saw anything so barbaric or gory in real life. The sight was shocking. She closed her eyes, praying it would be over. She willed him to hurry yet faster, not wanting to see him do such acts of violence, especially not for sport.
    When she opened her eyes again, most men had died. Cobaaron jumped. Someone threw an axe at him. She screamed, certain he wouldn’t survive it, but Cobaaron caught the handle as it spun, and hammered the iron into the man’s skull.
    Suddenly, he was moving faster than ever. Before he touched down on the platform, three more men were dead. His stealth was impossible. Blood was splattering from maimed bodies, and wetting the stage. There was a pool of blood staining the floor. It worried her, hoping none belonged to him. As Airia hoped for, she willed him to be stronger, faster, and better. Ky wanted him untouchable, and now he was. Before her eyes, she watched him transform, until his fighting was one graceful movement, as if he planned everything ten steps ahead.
    Cobaaron unexpectedly stopped when there were only three remaining challengers. One man had a spear, another a huge spiked club, and the last man had a whip with spikes on the end. Cobaaron slowly spun in a small circle while eyeing his warriors. He picked up a long sword from the ground, and then waited.
    A warrior swung his spike-tipped whip. Cobaaron caught the deadly end with the point of his blade, and with a twitch of his wrist, he yanked the weapon from his opponent. As the crop flew toward him, Cobaaron hurled his sword at that warrior; it whistled, ripping through the air, and pierced the man’s skull between his eyes.
    Not a moment later, a warrior flung a spear at Cobaaron. The attempt at his life was dismal. He easily snapped it in two and threw both pieces at the remaining men, killing them instantaneously. It took another second for the men to collapse to the bloody stage.
    “I’m not here to fight you,” Cobaaron yelled. “I came for the beasts. Not my men.”
    “Did you see him fight?” Airia asked in triumph, speaking over Cobaaron’s shouts. “I could barely keep up with him. She did it. She likes him fast. She likes him unconquerable.” Ky glared at Airia, despising her. “He’s the perfect warrior,