could hurt you. You shouldn’t be here.”
That’s when I notice the green glow smoldering inside his golden eyes. The bulge of fangs beneath his lips. He retreats to keep a wide distance between us, but I make out his nostrils as they flare slightly at my scent.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeats in a gravelly tone I don’t recognize. His eyes are now glowing as bright as the torches in the distance, and black talons sprout from his hands.
A twinge of fear spikes my blood, and I retreat a step. “I came to give you this.” Slowly, I hold out the book. Basil takes it from my hands and delivers it to Rhaegar as I quickly explain what I learned.
While I talk, Rhaegar’s face twists and morphs into more beast than Fae; long black muzzle, lupine eyes, and glittering fangs mask any trace of his humanity. The change is so slow I hardly notice until it’s done, and then I can’t stop staring.
Especially when he smiles at my newfound information, baring a row full of needle-sharp teeth perfectly capable of shredding flesh.
Even Basil seems nervous around him. His tail twitches behind him, his long goat ears pinned to his head and eyes rolled to the side to watch Rhaegar.
A whiny snarl trickles from Rhaegar’s chest, and he touches his face, his predatory eyes locked on me. With a final growl, he flips on his heels and storms back to the arena.
“What is he?” I whisper, my entire body clenched to keep from shivering. I don’t remember wolf shifter in his bio.
Basil watches him go, worry settling over his face. He hasn’t changed much. His horns might be longer, his face a bit more goat-like. Otherwise, he seems normal enough.
“His shifter form recently became more lupine in nature.” His hooves stomp nervously in the snow until grass and soil peek through.
“Aren’t you scared?” I ask, leaving the ‘of him’ part out.
“This is Everwilde; I’m always scared. As you should be, mortal.” An inhuman wail comes from somewhere deep in the forest, and he shifts an anxious glance at the noise before lowering his eyebrows at me. “You need to leave. Now.”
Ruby conjures the invisibility spell, and I make sure to start walking back down the path so my footprints show. Satisfied, Basil joins the others in the meadow just as a wild cheer reverberates the air.
It’s starting. And my fate hangs in the balance. How can I go back to the gym and wait? My nerves and the not knowing will eat me alive. Just the idea twists my gut, sending hot bile lapping at the back of my throat.
Turning on my heel, I follow the path, stopping ten yards from the forest’s edge. Then I find a passably climbable tree, take off my gloves, and shimmy my way up.
“What are you doing, human?” Ruby hisses, darting in nervous circles around my face.
“Climbing a tree. I thought that was obvious?”
“What’s obvious,” she replies, “is that you are a bigger idiot than I thought.” She pokes me in the spot between my eyebrows, hard, and then settles onto a frosted branch close to my face. “And they call me unhinged.”
“This is my future,” I say, settling onto a limb I’m fairly confident will hold my weight. “Did you really think I would miss the opportunity to watch it be decided? Hell to the no.”
“Titania save us,” she mutters.
“Just keep that invisibility spell going and she won’t have to.”
In the arena, I spot a Fae with a ram’s head cross to the center of the meadow. He holds up a white horn, curved into a spiral, and blows, sending a shimmer of sunset-orange dust into the air.
The sound echoes through the forest, the eerie, otherworldly melody prickling my spine. Silence descends. A horrifying silence one could drown in.
For a paralyzing moment, my heartbeat thunders louder than the horn—at least, inside my head. I don’t think I can take the waiting. A hollow feeling carves out my belly, the strange moonlight and animalistic noises and threat of imminent death all too much.
An inner voice, the one that’s kept me alive this long, whispers that I need to get down from this tree and run. That there are things in these woods more dangerous than the prince.
But I cannot turn away from the battle, not when the outcome will shape four years of my life. So I cling to the icy tree, hardly daring to breathe as a roar of bloodlust and excitement thrums the