The Glass Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil #2) - Gena Showalter Page 0,86

I’d gotten to know her.

I could ask her about her powers. If she knew anything about phantoms. If she knew a good place to hide dragons...for no particular reason other than curiosity, of course.

The crowd erupted with cheers, excitement crackling in the air.

The servant rushed off, but I’d already lost interest in him. This was it. Five warriors jogged to the center of the field. There was Eve’s fae...the vampire...the gorgon...the giant with massive horns protruding from his scalp...and Saxon.

I hadn’t seen him in forever. For. Ever. He looked rougher than I’d expected, his dark hair in disarray, his eyes bloodshot, and his jaw covered with thicker stubble than usual. He also looked bigger, as if he’d gained another fifty pounds of solid muscle—as if he packed cinder blocks of rage beneath his skin. I fanned my cheeks.

“I think this is the round where armor is off limits for some,” Dior said, clapping. “Look at that strength.”

How would Saxon handle the intoxibombs? Already the pixies hovered in the air, awaiting their cue.

I’d always loved pixies. They were playful, sometimes vindictive, but always truthful. About the size of my hand, they looked like miniature avian.

Dior squealed with delight. “Look at those wings. That face. Those muscles. I could just take my hands and—” A blush spread over her cheeks. “I mean, Saxon seems very smart.”

“Trust me,” I said, my tone dry, “I get it.” Like I could really blame her, anyway. She had eyes.

“I’ve wanted to speak to him ever since our first meeting, but he’s always peered right through me. Then I witnessed him act so cruelly to you that day in the throne room, and I decided he wasn’t worth my time. But then, under your influence, he softened, and I couldn’t help but take a second and third glance. Unless you like him? I thought you two were sworn enemies, but now I’m not sure. And I promise you, I had planned to feel very guilty about marrying my stepsister’s sworn enemy. For a little while. Probably.” Her gaze moved over the field, only to stop abruptly and widen. “How is Saxon supposed to win against a giant? What if the giant wins the tournament, and I’m forced to wed him?”

New sympathy for her welled. “Saxon will win this round.” He must. And if he didn’t... No. He would. “Our prophecy has yet to be fulfilled, and he’s part of it. Plus, he won the right to wield a weapon...then he lost the right to wield it, won a boon, lost a boon, then finally won another weapon.”

He wore a shirt made of metal mesh, those muscles on display. Black leather pants molded to his thighs. His wings appeared white, as if they’d been smeared with...ash? I wondered about the significance. Was he saying hello to me? Maybe?

The master lifted the magical horn that was able to amplify his volume. “Welcome one, welcome all to the final battle of the day. I’m not sure how many of you attended our first nine heats—” cheers resounded “—or how many missed them?” Boos rang out. He laughed. “As you know, the purpose of each heat is simple. Be the last combatant standing. So, are you ready to unleash the last group of beasts?”

The cheers were deafening, and I waited with baited breath for the horn to sound. Saxon kept his back to me. Did he know I was here? Did he care?

The horn blared at last. I tensed as the fighters rushed forward. Like the others, they punched, and they kicked. They clawed, and they bit. Saxon’s wings both helped and hurt him, allowing him to move at speeds the others couldn’t track, but also giving the others more real estate to grab or harm.

I winced when the giant ripped out a fistful of feathers.

For his weapon, Saxon had chosen a plain, ordinary dagger, but he wasn’t using it, and I didn’t understand why.

Dior leaned into me, whispering, “Which warrior do you watch so raptly? The one I suspect?”

“Yes. I watch Saxon, as you do.” I wouldn’t deny it. “He’s a good person sometimes, and I need—I want him to survive.” I wanted him to have the life Leonora had denied him.

“I see,” she said, and released a slight puff of breath. Would she become my enemy now? “Ashleigh, I need to know the truth, so there’s no confusion between us. Do you want Saxon for yourself? Even if he wins the tournament?”

“No,” I said, the negation bursting from me.