I laugh and hold out my wrist. I feel the now-familiar rush of vampire venom when he strikes, and all my insides go bubbly. He only takes a few sips, and then he seals the wound.
“Good luck tomorrow, sweetheart,” he says, turning for the door.
“George, did you ever find a mate?”
He grins. “Maybe she’s runnin’ this place. How about that?”
“I can see it.” I smile as he leaves without another word.
The following night I’m escorted to the silo like every time before, only there’s something different in the air. As I walk through the marketplace, people have T-shirts with my face on them. They have signs wishing me well. Someone even has a giant foam finger. I see Everald and know who’s responsible. It definitely lifts my spirits.
The silo is packed, and Valeska is already there, surrounded by her admirers, that same smug smile on her face. She’s confident she’s going to win. But I hear the sounds of people betting on our lives behind me. One of the bookies tells a vampire that the odds are slightly in Valeska’s favor. Slightly. People believe in me. People want me to win.
My heart swells as I acknowledge that the most important people want me to win. Damien, for one. I spot him behind the box, next to Lazarus, who gives me a reassuring nod. As I turn slowly, scanning the crowd, I spot Marcel strategically at the very center. He bows his head to me when our eyes meet. George and Marabella are directly behind me and also smile encouragingly. Everald salutes me from his place near the wall.
When I turn back toward my mate, Damien’s eyes are only on me. Valeska and I are about sixteen feet apart, each standing in front of one of the archways. There’s no disguising the way Damien’s head is turned to face me. Our connection is a palpable thing. It must infuriate Valeska. That vain, narcissistic psychopath wants to believe that somewhere, deep down, Damien is attracted to her. That some part of him wants her to win. Anyone with half a brain knows the idea is ludicrous. She tortured him and assaulted him. He can’t wait to see her dead.
I imagine it driving her insane inside that pretty, dark head of hers, and the thought makes me happier than it should.
“Eloise, it’s your turn to roll,” Lazarus says as the moon reaches its peak.
I take a second to appreciate how beautiful the moon is, how much I want to have a life under it with Damien. A rush of adrenaline makes my hand tremble as I pick up the dice and throw them into the box.
I’ve become so much stronger these past four weeks that they ricochet around several times before coming to rest on a carving of a diamond and a swirling blue symbol. White fog bleeds into the mirror at the back of the box, clouding out the silver. I stare intently, waiting for our mission.
A single word fades into the center of the mirror. Choose.
Choose? Choose what? I step back, and the portals within the archways go wavy, and then I see something that makes my heart leap. Under the moon arch is the crown of black diamonds that Damien showed me when he told me he would one day make me his princess. Under the star arch is the casual tiara his mother wore during the first trial.
I already know I’m going to choose the crown that represents the promise Damien made to me. But the mirror smokes over again. Another word. Win.
We wait, but there are no further messages.
Lazarus prompts me to choose first. It’s my turn.
I race for the black diamond crown and leap over the threshold. My right hand palms the hilt of my dagger. All is dark. The sensation of falling goes on and on, and I brace myself for impact. Have I unwittingly launched myself off the side of the castle? Am I being dropped into a lion’s cage at the center of a deadly labyrinth? It doesn’t matter. I’m ready for anything. I will do anything to be with Damien.
My feet hit stone, and it doesn’t feel like I’m landing at all, only like I’ve taken one giant step. But what’s in front of me makes no sense. I’m back in the silo. The two crowns are suspended in the air above my head. I glance toward Damien. He and Lazarus look completely befuddled.
I look back at the crown. Clearly my challenge is to jump for it. It’s high but not impossibly so. But before I have a chance, the crowd rumbles and I look to my side. Valeska steps out of her archway. She’s as bewildered as I was until she sees that there’s no barrier between us.
Damien moves for me and slaps an invisible wall. The impact ignites a honeycomb of purple cells that stretch in a dome over me and the queen, a force field between us and everyone else in this silo. It’s just us in here. Me and her. No one can interfere.
And then I understand.
The goal is the crown of our choosing.
I’ll have to go through her to get it.
And she’ll have to go through me.
Win, the mirror had said.
For a split second, I’m terrified. This was never supposed to happen. Sabrina swore to me that the magic of the box kept the challenges even and fair. I was never supposed to have to face her directly.
It’s so unfair.
How am I supposed to?—
