Xander gave a short nod and rose. The brothers were of equal height, both had pale skin and dark hair. Discordia resembled neither of them; her and Damocles’s features had been chosen differently, hair like spun gold to contrast their black-haired siblings. Where Urion lacked similarity in coloring, he matched Damocles in physicality. His body was large and muscled, whereas Xander’s was more compact, athletic. Their strengths would be different.

“Hand-to-hand,” Xander said.

Discordia reared back sharply. Was he insane? The entire point of the challenge was an acknowledgment of an opponent’s strengths and weaknesses. It had been an opportunity for Xander to choose his best weapon—a blade. He had been good with blades, Discordia recalled. Urion outmatched him in hand-to-hand.

Even Urion seemed startled, but only said, “I accept.”

Their fight began.

From the moment it started, Discordia knew Xander was going to lose. He was quick, yes, but Urion landed blows that made Xander double over with the force. Worse, it seemed he wasn’t even trying.

Damn you, Xander, she thought. Fight. Put up a fucking fight.

But she could practically read his thoughts: what did it matter? Only two siblings would win, anyway. One was not going to be Xander. The other was not likely to be Urion. Why fight the inevitable? Why win now only to lose later?

Urion punched Xander so hard that he stumbled. Discordia winced, watching as her stronger brother slid an arm around Xander’s throat and cut off his air supply.

Leave him, she told herself. Urion was doing her a favor. She wouldn’t have to kill Xander; all she had to do was wait until her brother choked the life out of him.

Easy, she thought, as the guilt squeezed her chest. It felt like she was being choked, too. So easy. Ea—

Her hand found the firewolf in her pocket. Rough edges. Carved lovingly by Xander’s hand, even after his fingers had been broken over and over and over again by his prefect to discourage it. He’d never carve anything that beautiful again.

He’d be dead.

Discordia’s Mors was in her hand before she could think. She raised the weapon, aimed, and fired.

It was a killing blow straight into Urion’s skull.

Xander heaved in a breath as he collapsed onto the ground. He looked up as she came out of the trees, and his eyes touched on her, on the Mors still gripped in her hand, then on their dead brother. A drop of blood slid down Urion’s forehead.

“You didn’t challenge him,” Xander said hoarsely.

No, she hadn’t. Discordia had broken the rules. She was a fucking fool for coming there. “And you didn’t even put up a fight.”