I wipe my face quickly, almost shuddering at the sight of the blood on the silk.
Nadya nods, letting me know I’m in the clear, but my body is still buzzing. If my magic cuts loose again, I’m going to need more than just this handkerchief.
“It’s fine,” I whisper to her.
But it’snotfine. My vision blurs at the edges.
Dante has made it past the snake, but he’s not at the end of the path yet. He’s not walking straight, but he keeps going.
The music swells—faster, louder. The snakes are restless now, weaving through the tiles like living shadows. The fae lifts both hands and two serpents writhe into Dante’s path.
Fuck!
He’s swaying. Sweat glistens on his skin. His focus is slipping.
Come on. Just a few more steps.
I press my palm flat against my stomach, grounding myself as best I can. One final push—I don’t even know what I’m aiming for. Justsomethingto keep him upright, to clear the tile. I shove the energy outward, but it bursts sideways—wild and chaotic. As soon as I release it, I get a sharp pain in my chest.
The fire from one of the nearby torches flares too wide, causing the nobles closest to it to cry out and scatter back. Dante’s arm shields his face, and I suck in a breath when I notice the instant, red blistering of his skin.
Without thinking, I send another wave of energy surging. In my mind, I sense the urgent need to heal him. The next two seconds play out in slow motion in my eyes—an icy film appearing on his scorched skin, Dante pulling his arm against his chest and covering it with his other arm, his brow scrunching over narrowed eyes, and then the straightening of his back.
Luckily, I see that the distraction has also caused the animal-wielder to falter. The snakes shift off-course. And when Dante finally steps forward again, he strides cleanly over the last tile and into the open.
The hall goes silent.
Then… applause. It’s slow at first, then grows louder. The faces of the people in the crowd are filled with amazement. They’re clearly impressed.
I feel like I’m going to faint, and the sharp pain behind my eyes has blossomed to the point that I see black spots dance before me. My arms are wrapped around myself, and Nadya is supporting me to keep me upright. I wince, then straighten, flashing her a look of gratitude as Ibreathe through the pain.
The queens lean toward each other, exchanging another knowing look before Queen Ambra claps her hands once. “Very well done,” she says, stepping forward. “You’ve completed the path, Lord Dante.”
Dante inclines his head, his movements stiff, as if he’s barely holding himself upright.
I glance around, wondering if anyone noticed what I had done. No one remarks on the fire burst; no one mentions seeing any ice form on Dante’s arm. Even the snake charmer seems oblivious to my magic interfering. Maybe it was the wine, dulling everyone’s attention.
“But your night is not over,” Queen Eosla adds, her voice dripping with amusement. “Come. The final mark awaits you.”
Final mark?What the fuck does that mean?
They gesture to the flaps at the rear of the tent. Two attendants appear, draped in gauzy crimson, beckoning Dante forward.
His jaw tightens. His eyes find me, and his brows come together.
I force myself to stand up straight, hoping there’s no trace of my nosebleed for him to see. I give him a nod, but he can only blink.
The attendants clap him on the shoulders, and he has no choice but to follow.
As he disappears into the night, I’m left with my pulse pounding in my ears, the taste of blood at the back of my throat, and the certainty that whatever they plan next could be worse.
Much worse.
ChApter
Twenty-Nine
After Dante left the tent, Nadya and I excused ourselves and headed to our rooms, though Nadya didn’t quite make it halfway down our hall before being approached by someone who wanted her full attention. I couldn’t be bothered to keep an eye on her, though. I didn’t have as much wine as Dante did, but the alcohol did make me drowsy. On the bright side, it helped me get a restful sleep, which I otherwise might not have gotten, since I was encumbered with worry.
