Maisie

No matter how hard they tried to reach her, my Lycan refused to surface.

I swore she was toying with me.

Soren had shown up with a platter of food that I ignored and what followed was a blur of frustration. Heated arguments erupted between the four of them about what else they could try, speaking about my body like I wasn’t a part of the conversation. Blood. Pain. Fear. Power exchange. Quinlan suggested biting me again. I flat-out refused.

Jericho did it anyway.

He sank his teeth into the curve of my shoulder without warning. I cried out and shoved him away, but it changed nothing. The fresh bite burned, the bond flared... and my Lycan still wouldn’t surface.

We ran out of ideas and time.

In exactly two hours and forty six minutes, the Queen’s guards arrived.

*****

There was something in the air. Perhaps it was the red moon, casting everything in a blush-hazed glow. Or it was the scent of fire and smoke, entwined with some sweet and mouth-watering. Or maybe it was the sound of the drumbeats that synced with my pulse, spiking it to an erratic point.

Mercer was briefing me on Tessa—her favorite moves, her dirty tricks, how she liked to psychologically break her opponents before delivering the final blow—and I knew I should’ve been listening, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from the moon nor stop my fingers from tingling and jerking with the strange urge to... dance.

The caves were far behind the castle, hidden behind a cluster of woods and ancient trees that you couldn’t have stumbled upon randomly, even by mistake.

Mercer pushed something sharp into my fingers. It was a lovely dagger of silver and ash. "I didn’t know weapons were allowed," I said, fighting off the pull to the clearing as the drums beat even faster and louder.

It was affecting the Lycans too.

Quinlan’s eyes kept switching from pitch black to blue, and Soren’s fangs were out. Jericho kept blinking hard, like it was difficult to focus and Mercer’s hair was growing, lengthening just like his nails were.

"They typically aren’t," Quinlan answered, voice thick. "But in a fight like this, no one gets to condemn you for choosing whatever methods you adopt to stay alive."

I didn’t take the dagger. "I’m not a cheat. If I win, I’ll win fair and square."

Mercer shook his head. "Everyone in that gathering knows this is anything but a fair fight."

"Thank you, for the vote of confidence," I said bitterly. "If you thought the only way I could get out of this in one piece was by cheating my way out of it, then the Queen was right. You shouldn’t have married me."

I turned on my heel and left with the guards.

When the clearing came to view, it was all I could do not to gasp.

Hundreds of Lycans had gathered. Most were already half-shifted, eyes glowing, claws extended, bodies painted in sweat and firelight.

The males wore nothing, their skins glistening with oils and sweat, and those who did were dressed in loose linen pants that hung dangerously low on their hips.

The females—in the gathering of hundreds, I didn’t think there were up to forty of them—were dressed in that sheer flowing white shift, identical to the kind I had been forced to wear earlier, that left nothing to the imagination. The fabric clung to every curve, nipples clearly visible, the hem teasing their bare ankles.

I half recalled Memah’s words from earlier while I had been trying to tune her out.

While the ’maidens’ were stripped and brought to the fire to be ’chosen’, and then taken into the caves, the others would be hunted in the woods. Chased. Pinned. They would be brought back to the fires for the Orgia—more like orgy—for hours of raw, public ’breeding’ under the red moon.

I didn’t understand how any woman would want that, but clearly, I didn’t understand them because the women had gleams of excitement in their gazes.

I guessed the only reason why they weren’t yet kneeling by the fires was because of the duel.

A sudden gratitude entered my heart for the change of clothes Quinlan had brought me, even if I looked terribly out of place in the fighting leathers.

A wide ring of smooth, packed earth had been cleared directly in front of the bonfire. Torches surrounded it, casting harsh light across the fighting ground. Tessa stood at the center, waiting.

She looked every inch the predator.

Her long silver-blonde hair spilled down her back. She wore the same sheer ceremonial shift as the other females, and for a moment, I wondered if she would participate in the rite, too.

She carried no weapons. She didn’t need any. Her body was already half-shifted elegant claws tipping her fingers, eyes dark. She looked confident. Hungry. Bloodthirsty.

The crowd’s eyes devoured me as the Queen’s guards led me forward. Cruel excitement rose in the air and whispers followed in my wake.

"...won’t last a minute..."

"...think we’ll get to fuck her after Tessa’s done breaking her..."

"...smell it on her. Think I could ask to be one of the men who breaks her in when it comes? She smells delicious..."

Soft, lilting laughter.

I stepped up to the ring, but because my legs were too short to make the distance, I nearly broke my nose in the fall.

Only, warm hands bracketed my waist and I felt the warmth of Soren’s lips near my ear as he lifted me. "Hate us all you want, Adams, but do not die on me."

And then, he was gone, and I found myself face to face with Tessa. Her voice was a low, sultry whisper as she taunted, "Finally come to play, whuf-whuf?"

More laughter erupted around us, but it died the second the Queen strode in, flanked by her mates, and when she waved, a court official stepped into the ring.

"Standard rules apply. The duel ends when one party yields or is physically incapable of continuing. No weapons." A pause. "There is no maiming rule in a contested claim."

My heart started to race at the fevered rush of bloodlust that spiked in the air.

He flagged his right hand, inching away. "Begin."