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At first, nothing happens, then she begins to choke.
Then sputter.
No. No. No!
Everyone watches as she falls onto the table, then doesn’t move as blood leaks from her mouth.
She’s already dead.
The host bows his head, then waves on to the sponsor. “You still have to drink, Boreilus.”
The royal named Boreilus gives the dead candidate a scowl, then throws back his wineglass, drinking all of it.
Confirming my suspicions, Boreilus is fine. One of the other ingredients in the meal had the correct antidote.
Other pairs go next, and there’s a good streak until one of the girls loses her nerve and tries to run.
The shifters wearing the foreign emblems react fast. They don’t completely shift, but their teeth and claws come out, shredding her at the doorway before she even had a chance to scream.
I stare at the carnage and begin to shake with rage.
This isn’t right.
They can’t do this to us!
“You can change things,” Arwan tells me. His voice is still unnaturally low, but there’s a tinkling to them that wasn’t there before.
Shadows and blue motes drift from his lips, faintly glimmering before they vanish.
I widen my eyes. He’s making sure I can hear him, but no one else can.
“How?” I whisper.
This has to be stopped.
He shakes his head as if he can read my thoughts. “Not now. Not before you’re ready, but when it is time, you will change things, little queen. That’s your destiny.”
He speaks those words as if he’s seen my future in that mirror of his.
I press my lips together as the game continues. Unfortunately, Violet, Ferra, and Coraline survive without an issue, and they all give me triumphant grins that I want to smack right off their pretty faces.
Sofia is the last to go before me. She confidently sips her wine, then smiles.
Not at me, but at her sponsor.
He smiles back, then takes a sip as well.
Do I sense a spark?
Maybe Sofia will participate in the Monster Games after all. For her sake, I hope she knows what she’s doing.
“Now for the final candidate, the one we’ve all been waiting for,” the host preens.
“I’m not sure why everyone has been waiting for me,” I grumble.
The host barks a laugh. “Oh, my dear. Don’t you know who your sponsor is?” He performs a flourish in Arwan’s direction. “His Majesty, the Crown Prince himself, heir to the throne of Noctis, liaison between Monster Isle and the Realm of the Dead.” He bows low as I openly stare at Arwan.
He doesn’t change his facial expression, but Arwan’s blue eyes seem to have gone darker. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he doesn’t care for all the titles. But if he’s some fancy prince, especially to one of the Monster Realms, what the hell is he doing here risking his life at a stupid game just to be my sponsor?
