This continued again and again and again, each time the blue wolf suffering a worse fate than the last, until she finally collapsed on the ground.
She didn't get up.
Didn't even lift her head.
"Isla!" Mikel shouted, but a soldier standing behind him slammed him back down into his chair when he tried to rise.
Harry paid him no mind, just watched carefully for signs of life.
He had to make sure she wasn't dead, of course.
Otherwise his fun would be over.
He was satisfied when he saw her inhale a shallow breath.
He was able to see it because the shimmering of the blood that covered her shifted.
"Get the other two wolves ready," he told two men behind him.
"Take her away."
"Yes, Your Grace," two men said, bowing in acknowledgement.
As a second thought, the king addressed his wife.
"Their muzzles are on?" Harry looked over at his wife, who hadn't been watching the arena in quite some time.