“There. We’re all done.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, my anxiety spiked. Sweat coated my brow, and my hands shook. I had no idea what awaited me, but knowing the Unseelie Fae, the trials wouldn’t be easy.
My eyes swept over the spectators filling the arena, their faces lit with anticipation, hungry for the spectacle about to begin.
From my vantage point, there wasn’t much to be excited about.The dirt-packed floor was bare; no hidden traps I could see, no snarling beasts lying in wait. Just an open space, silent and still.
Too still.
I narrowed my gaze as my instincts flared in warning. The trial was designed to test my capabilities, so the danger wouldn’t be obvious. The stillness that engulfed the arena was merely the calm before the storm. Something far worse than a beast waited for me. I was certain of that.
Gentle fingers gripped my chin and angled my face away from the imposing stadium. When my gaze locked with steel-grey eyes, I smiled, already feeling lighter.
“Sweetheart, there isn’t a single fae here who could hold a candle to your wit and strength. Whatever challenges await you, I know you’ll be victorious,” Riordan said. “You have already outsmarted my brother more than once, and I promise you, my father is not that creative.”
A chuckle escaped me despite the lingering danger.
“You’ve got this.”
I took a deep breath and nodded in agreement.
Then Callum muscled his way past Riordan to stand in front of me.
“If you wanted to touch me, Killer, all you had to do was ask,” Riordan purred.
My brother rolled his eyes as he gripped my shoulders. He held my gaze as if he were searching for the right words.
“No need to fret, Callum,” I said, teasing. “I will be perfectly fine.”
My brother swallowed and pulled me in for a tight hug. He didn’t seem capable of speaking as emotion clogged his throat. He simply rested his forehead against mine, conveying everything he was feeling with a single touch.
When he released me, Ryker took his place. “It’s time to go, Temptress.” I accepted his outstretched hand and nodded to Eamon and Malesh as I passed them.
Ryker and I descended the stairs toward the arena, but before I could step onto the packed dirt, he pulled me to a stop. His piercing grey eyes bore into me, and his jaw clenched as he tried to mask his anger.
“You were never made to surrender, Cadence. You were made to survive.” His grip tightened, his breath hot against my cheek. “Do you hear me? You stand when others crumble. You rise when they crawl.” His fingers dug into my flesh, his nostrils flaring. “Go out there and show them they will never break you.” His voice dropped, vicious and certain. “Mark my words, Temptress. They will soon discover the cost of underestimating you.” A muscle in his jaw flexed. “You will be their reckoning.”
And then he kissed me.
It wasn’t soft or gentle.
It was hard and unyielding.
His hand moved into my hair, gripping the strands in a tight hold as he conquered my mouth with his tongue. My arms wrapped around his neck instinctively, and he pulled me against his muscular frame, forcing my feet to leave the ground.
Ryker kissed me with the urgency of a starving man, as though it were the last taste he’d ever have, and he meant to savor every second. There was no tenderness, no hesitation. Nothing but hunger and a desperation that left no room for doubt. My body molded to his, weightless in his grasp, and all thoughts of the impending trial scattered beneath the force of his desire.
When he finally set me down, my legs trembled and my lips burned from the intensity of his rough treatment. His thumb traced my swollen lips, and I saw something raw and vulnerable flicker across his features before the mask slammed back into place.
“Remember what I said, Cadence.” Before I could respond, he retreated, leaving me cold and aching.
The roar of the crowd beyond grew louder, more demanding, as if sensing the trial was about to begin. I straightened my shoulders and stepped forward, feeling the weight of every blade Eamon had strapped to my body.
The tunnel stretched before me, an open cavern that would deposit me into whatever hell awaited. My boots hit the hard earth with a dull thud, and the crowd’s cheers washed over me like a wave the moment I emerged.
The King of the Unseelie Fae sat high above the arena in an ornate throne made of obsidian. His crown caught the light as he leaned forward, his eyes fixing on me with predatory interest. Surrounding him, courtiers whispered behind paper fans, their gazes sharp and cutting.
Noticeably absent, however, were the two princes whose thrones remained unoccupied on either side of him. I scanned the crowd, finding them standing at the edge of the balcony that overlooked the arena.
