Tessa whispers, “All these aliens are from different parts of the planet. They’re really splitting us up.”
“Maybe not right away,” I whisper back. I helplessly scan the warriors flanking us. We won’t win a physical fight.
Maya’s name glows.
The Stone speaks.
“Maya Chen. By decree, you are placed in the custody of the High Lord Jarrett Davryn.”
The clearing parts.
The High Lord moves into view. He’s tall, silver-robed, and unfairly beautiful. His white-gold hair catches the light likemetal, but his eyes remain cold as glacier glass. He watches Maya with a focus that reads more like possession than interest.
He takes her hand. She doesn’t fight. He leads her away, vanishing into the trees.
A shuttle lifts a minute later.
The spell breaks.
Sloane breathes, “They’re really dividing us.”
I reach out, find hands, and squeeze. We’re a chain of silent panic held together by touch. But it won’t last. The ceremony keeps going, claiming woman after woman. After each set of names, another of my friends is taken away.
Tessa. Her turn. The Stone flashes red-hot.
“Cinder Courts. Custody of the Fire Lord.”
She shuts her eyes for a second, then opens them as she is scooped up by an alien male with dark red hair and bright eyes.
Lila flips off the Stone before touching it. For a second, it glitches.
I hold my breath, wondering if the glitch means punishment is coming. But the next second, the Stone announces her match.
“Lila Moreno. Claimed by Pelagis. Custody of the Sea King.”
“If I just got matched to live in a merman dungeon, I want a do-over.” Lila scowls at the priestess.
Our eyes are wide, watching as the Sea King moves lightly up to the platform, his expression neutral. The words die on Lila’s tongue as she takes in his alien appearance. He’s heavily muscled, but slimmer than most of the other aliens.
Lila relaxes in his arms as he picks her up and takes her away without a word. She went from fighting to placid as he neared. We all saw it. Something forced her to settle.
One by one, gone. One more match made in a nightmare.
My turn is coming.
And Rythar hasn’t stopped tracking me. Not once.
It hits me like a voltage surge when my name is announced.
“ELENA PARKS.”
The Concord Stone flares green, gold, and violet, like the jungle. The color crawls, twists, and burns. A shape like a vine spirals out of the light. It seems alive, trembling as if it can’t wait to wrap around me.
“Custody of Rythar Smythe, Warlord of the Green Reach.”
My heart rate jumps.Rythar.
Of course it’s him. Out of all the impossible titles—King, Stormlord, Shadow Prince—I end up with the Warlord. I’m so tired of violence, of marching from one battlefield to the next, and now I’m handed to the male who’s been circling me since the moment he stepped out of the jungle. The one I keep telling myself I shouldn’t look at twice. The one I keep looking at anyway.
