The diamond chalice.
The river of diamonds within sparkled and shone, throwing the blood-red lights on the dais. The smooth surface had not one smudge, as though the king’s touch would never leave a lasting impression. It pulsed within her, sensing her. The white-hot light in her middle flared, pounding, spreading. It filled up her body and smoothed over her ribs, dulling the pain, reducing it to a fine point, and then washing it away entirely. Her fatigue from the sleepless night, her aching muscles from the battle—they washed away as well, leaving a pleasant smell of lavender in its wake.
A hand with unnatural, leathery skin reached for her, and she jerked her head away. Even that violent movement didn’t bring back the ache in her ribs. She nearly cried in relief, whichwould’ve joined the tears of pain from a moment ago. The tears of fear.
The fingers were cold and revolting when they grabbed her chin. Twisted magic crawled across her face and tried to seep into her flesh. He angled her face up toward him.
“You are such a beautiful little creature.” His breath smelled like mold and decay. Her stomach churned.
The chalice throbbed, so close to her. Power and strength pulsed in her middle, peeling back the effects of his magic. The feel of it.
The chalice had never reacted like this in the human world. It hadn’t called to her before being trapped in this kingdom. It sensed the danger she was in. Or maybe it sensed the danger Faerie was in from the twisted magic. One and the same.
His gaze stopped on her lips, and his fingertips slid from her chin to her neck, leaving a slimy trail in its wake. She shivered and couldn’t stop her eyes from filling with the hate she felt.
“I don’t think I have looked upon a daintier, prettier human that was also so deliciously fierce,” he said. “I can see now why Tarian protects you so viciously. He wants you all for himself.” The smile froze her heart. “Too bad he has no say in the matter.”
The fingers of one hand closed around her neck, squeezing. She wasn’t sure if he was collaring her or if he wanted to watch the life ebb out of her. His thumb pushed at her chin, forcing it to stay high and her to keep eye contact. His gaze was malicious and still sparkled brightly with lust.
She held her breath, not from the pressure, but because she wasn’t sure what he would do. Wasn’t sure if he might kill her.
In a moment, his fingers slackened. The touch drifted away.
“I am torn, however,” he said. His tongue glided along his unnaturally wrinkly lip. “I enjoy watching you fight. It is delightfully erotic, given the thoughts and desires it evokes. Maybe a private display…” He wavered in indecision. She couldsee it. Her future lay in the balance, teetering with him. Her knife was somewhere behind her, but she had others tucked about her person. They weren’t magical, but they were iron. Given she could move now, they would work.
They would have to.
His gaze flicked up and focused. The malicious look twinkled in his eyes.
“Hmm,” he said, then stepped back. A glance said he was looking at Tarian, who still sat in his seat. His expression had closed down, stoic and unimpressed. He was giving nothing away.
“Take her back.” The king motioned her away. Before he returned to sit, however, he angled his head. His attendants waited on the sides of the dais, and to those on the right, he said quietly, “Prepare my quarters for a human. You know how I like it. The manacles should be small to suit her. Keep him away from her. No exceptions.”
The guards grabbed her by the upper arms and tugged her toward the holding quarters. Faelynn moved to follow, weapons in hand, but another guard stepped in her way. The guard took the weapons and barked at her to stay put. He followed behind.
Her thoughts raced as doom lodged in her gut. It was like not knowing how to swim while being dragged down a pier. The end was in sight. Her mettle was about to be tested. Maybe not today, maybe not even tomorrow, but soon.
She looked over her shoulder, wanting to plead with Tarian without knowing what to say. Wanting to yell at him to hurry but knowing he knew what was at stake.
Tarian had his elbow on the arm of the couch, a couple fingers resting over his lips, the picture of indifference. His other hand, though, the one resting on his thigh, had tightened into a fist. The knuckles blanched as he watched her go, still noemotion playing across his face. If he wanted to grab her later, he’d have to fight his way in, and he knew it.
They didn’t go the way they’d come, and Daisy had a moment of panic that they were headed to the king’s chambers right then. Thankfully, it was another holding place for prisoners, this one much smaller than the other. Cots of the correct number existed in rows. Some had already been taken out of formation and spread into the eating area by the other champions who’d already fought and won. They didn’t want to be too close to their enemy. The wash area was still outside, but now there was a grassy area beside it.
No fence closed them in. The land curved, and she glimpsed the top of a jutting cliff. Far below, water sparkled in the moonlight.
The guard handed over her weapons and left, turning his back on Daisy without any tension. He wasn’t worried about her.
Taking advantage of the lack of people, Daisy quickly rinsed off the blood and the grime. She scrubbed where the king had touched her, the feeling of his clammy fingers still present across her flesh. Dressed in a nondescript drape that everyone would wear, she helped herself to food and bubbly water.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” One of the largest champions stood at the other end of the table, holding the square wooden platter that served as a plate. He glanced over with a lifted eyebrow, his gaze touching off her freshly poured drink. His light brown hair was cropped short, and his pleasing face and strong jaw were devoid of any scars or hints of violence. He’d done well so far. “We’re on a cliff for a reason.”
She hesitated, eyeing the clear liquid. It was the only drink offered.
He shrugged. “It’s up to you.” He picked up the cooked leg of a large bird, bigger than an average human realm’s turkey.
Still she hesitated, watching him scoop up the various dishes and dropping them onto his platter. He could be joking, or he might be trying to keep her dehydrated, but after he finished piling up his platter, he didn’t take any of it, either. Instead, he grabbed a cup and headed for the washroom. There, he filled his cup and went out to the grass to sit down.
Following his lead, she did the same and headed out to an area close to him. She settled on the grass, not being obvious about looking over. He picked up his cup and drained half its contents.
