they can’t do whatever they want to whomever they want, then what’s to say they won’t do this again? I can’t be the only person they’re threatened by, can’t be the only paranormal the king hates just because of who I am. If I don’t stop this, now, he’ll lock up a lot more people in that dungeon of his before he’s through.
So I don’t turn around. I don’t run away. I don’t even falter in my steps as I stride to the center of the field. Instead, I keep walking as I ignore the ominous feelings pressing in on me from all sides. I might very well die in this ridiculous quest today, but if I do, I’m going to die fighting. For now, that’s all I can promise myself.
But it’s enough. It carries me right up to the king.
Right up to the Circle, who are standing behind Cyrus in a semicircle of support as he whips the crowd into a frenzy.
Right up to the bloodred line that I have to stand on all alone.
I’m not going to lie. It’s scary as fuck.
Then again, nearly everything has been scary as fuck since I got to this school, so why not just embrace it?
“Nice of you to join us, Grace,” Cyrus says in a voice so barbed, it feels like he’s flaying my flesh from my bones. “We were just about ready to give up on you.”
“Sorry, I was unavoidably detained,” I tell him as I look straight across the field to Cole, who is lined up directly across from me.
Our gazes meet, and the malevolent glee in his makes me want to scream. But it also gives me the strength I need to not look away. Because no way am I giving that jerk the satisfaction of letting him know just how deeply he’s hurt me. Just how much he’s torn me apart.
Cyrus looks me over, fake concern on his face as he plays for the crowd. “Are you all right, Grace? You look like you’ve had a very rough start to the day.”
“I’m fine.”
My answer is dismissive, and for a breath, something flashes in his eyes: Surprise? Rage? Annoyance? I don’t know and, honestly, I don’t care. This is going to go how it’s going to go, and everything else is just window dressing that I don’t have the energy to analyze…or participate in right now.
“Welcome, students and faculty of Katmere Academy, to the rarest of occurrences—one of your own challenging for inclusion on the Circle. And not just any student, mind you, but the first gargoyle student Katmere Academy has ever had. It is a truly thrilling and auspicious day.”
Everyone cheers in response, but there’s a malicious edge to it that I wasn’t expecting, considering these are the people who cheered for me and the rest of my team a few short days ago. Then again, maybe I’m just imagining it—seeing something that isn’t there because I’m so freaked out.
It’s lonely out here by myself, lonely in this stadium, when the last time I was here I had all the support in the world. But right now, it feels like there’s no one in the entire place who is rooting for me. The lone gargoyle.
Jaxon, Flint, and Eden are injured and awaiting help.
Macy is trying to bring that help.
Mekhi and Gwen are in the infirmary.
Even my uncle Finn was powerless to do much more than clap for me as I entered the arena.
And Hudson is probably outside, trying to keep a low profile now that he’s mortal. Not that I blame him. I have my powers and his, and I still wish I was outside…or anywhere else but on this field.
Still, the last thing I want is to spend the rest of my life locked in a dungeon, praying Cyrus won’t kill me. There’s no one else to do this right now, no one else to challenge Cyrus and Delilah’s power. No one else to do what has to be done.
So what I want doesn’t matter. Only winning matters, because winning is the sole way I’ll be able to stop this mess from unfolding.
Cyrus turns back to the crowd, arms open wide like a carnival barker as he begins to weave them a tale in his very proper British accent.
“The eight of us here”—he turns to look at the members of the Circle behind him—“are very excited to see if she measures up, has what it takes to serve on your ruling body. And I know some