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“Never mind.” Lorelei risked a quick pat on his safely covered arm, feeling so much better than before that she only barely noticed his muscles shift, through all those layers of cloth, in reaction to her touch. “Far better for both of us to keep our hands free as we prepare for the next challenge.”

Not all of the dangers at this tournament would politely wait for the trials to begin.

They arrived at the top of the field, where the rest of the day’s contestants were assembling, as Oberon’s herald crossed the grass with her horn held ready. Lorelei smiled graciously at the scowling lord of the tournament—poor, dear Oberon must be so disappointed she hadn’t been a few seconds later, to give him the perfect excuse to declare her entry forfeit!—and tipped him a perfectly gauged nod of condescension before she turned to warmly greet her competitors.

The other nineteen pairs had all survived yesterday’s challenges and won against impressive opponents; not one of them could be dismissed as a potential threat. Still, with the Golden Beacon towering at her side, Lorelei couldn’t summon up any nerves about her prospects.

True, she had allowed herself to be drawn into sharing far more vulnerability with her captive than she’d intended. She certainly wouldn’t claim not to have made any missteps, especially when it came to this morning’s mortifying awakening. But Lorelei knew how to learn from her mistakes. From now on, she would simply take care never to let Gerard see deeper than was comfortable or safe—and as long as the two of them continued to fight side by side, they would surely be unstoppable.

The herald’s horn rang out, high and haunting, and silenced every conversation. A thick hush of excitement hung over the field as Oberon—no longer scowling—rose gracefully to his feet.

His lips curved into a smile as he swept the crowd with his gaze … and as his eyes lingered first upon Lorelei’s face, and then upon Gerard’s, that smile widened ominously.

“It is time,” he announced, “to begin the most entertaining segment of this year’s games—one newly added late last night for the court’s particular enjoyment. I promise you all, by the end of today’s trials, less than half of our competitors will remain in play … and many others may be lost to us forever.”

Lost forever? Lorelei’s eyes narrowed as Oberon’s smile morphed into a sneer of satisfaction. What was that weasel planning to make him look so giddy? And what did that mealy-mouthed warning mean?

Every trial in the Tournament of Leaves ran the risk of death. What made this one any different?

Looking directly at her, Oberon gave a nod of taunting condescension that mirrored her own earlier move far too well for comfort. Then he turned to the rest of their audience and dramatically raised his arms. “Let Day Two of the tournament begin!”

14

Gerard might be out of place on this fae field and unfamiliar with local customs, but there was one truth that all of his instincts shouted as he readied for today’s challenges:

Lorelei was hiding from him.

Oh, she stood physically beside him in the autumnal morning light, along with their fellow competitors, but from the moment she’d sent him out of their tent that morning, she had withdrawn more tightly behind her veil of illusions than ever before … and the disconcerting glamour that she’d cast over her face was the least of it.

He would never forget the sight of her that morning when she’d first awoken, her hair streaming around her in sensual abandon and her expression open, warm, and vulnerable.

The tip of her tongue had swept out to lick her upper lip as she’d gazed at him with unmistakable hunger …

And he’d nearly doubled over, mid-calisthenics, with the force of his own sudden, piercing need.

It was the first time he’d glimpsed the Balravian queen entirely unshielded. Her usual sophisticated flirtation was all too tempting, but that open vulnerability had been nigh-on irresistible. It had taken every ounce of his own willpower to breathe through the moment and maintain an unaffected demeanor …

And her disgruntlement, only a moment later, had been adorable. There was no other word for it. Rarely in his life had he felt so disappointed as when she’d cast that unsettling glamour over her features as a mask, smoothing over every touchable inch with chilling perfection.

On a deeper level, though, a new, hot spark of challenge had lit within him at that sight. If ever-confident Lorelei actually felt any need to hide from him, that meant he’d finally caught the incorrigible queen wrong-footed. In this obsessive, unstoppable competition that they’d been privately enacting for years, she had taken a seemingly insurmountable lead when she’d abducted him. Now, though, he suddenly held the advantage.

He didn’t intend to let it slip from his hands again.

Had Lorelei exposed more of her true self last night than she’d intended? Enough to make her this nervous now? Then he would hunt down all of her secrets while he was here. Gerard wasn’t known as relentless for nothing … and the sharp tug in his chest to learn even more, to know all of his contradictory captor’s deepest truths, was undeniable.

Besides, it made perfect political sense. Without any fae blood of his own to guide him through the veil between worlds, he couldn’t mount any escape plans from the fae realm. Therefore, his clear Imperial duty as well as his personal compulsion demanded that he turn around the trap she’d closed upon him and use it to ferret out every secret he could for his empire’s advantage.

Oddly, that rationalization felt more dampening than uplifting … but he shifted his emotional response aside. The only thing that could matter in this situation—or any other—was his duty. That was his deepest truth. Nothing could ever matter more.

So, with his hands clasped behind his back, Gerard listened calmly and attentively to all of Lord Oberon’s self-important pronouncements, and he waited with carefully hidden impatience to tackle the day’s official challenges … and his own unofficial hunt.

“Let Day Two of the tournament begin!” Lord Oberon finally declared with the over-the-top grandeur of an insecure man who’d been dying for real power for years.

Gerard braced himself for the inevitable, dizzying shift through a new fae portal into a new illusory setting.

Instead, he found himself suddenly standing alone on the tournament field as everyone else disappeared. Lorelei was gone, along with their competitors. Lord Oberon and all of the onlookers were missing, too.

A deep and strangely peaceful hush filled the air as Gerard turned slowly in place, looking warily upon the vast green field and the forest of orange-leafed trees beyond it that hid the tent where he had slept last night. Every stand erected for the tournament’s audience was empty.