to the side, and I darted up, scrambling for my bow. As he struggled to his feet, I grabbed my bow and a fresh arrow and sent the projectile flying into his leg.
He roared and went down, all four limbs compromised. I lunged for him and slammed my bow down onto his head so hard that I heard the crack. He slumped unconscious.
I knelt over, inspecting where I’d hit him. Not bleeding. He’d wake up. Shifters were tough.
I stood and spun in a circle, shouting to the sky. “He’s out! Come and get him.”
I didn’t know if the contest organizers could hear me, but I really wasn’t in the mood to stand guard over the lion in case he woke up and I had to knock him out again. “I could kill him, but I won’t. So come and get him. He doesn’t stand a chance.”
The air shimmered to my right, and four Fae appeared. They were each dressed in the pale blue and silver uniforms that seemed to be the official outfits of the palace guards who were working the competition. They approached at a swift pace.
I stepped back and waited as they took the shifter away. It didn’t take them long to bundle him up and get him out of there. One of them approached me and handed me a pack.
“For tonight,” the tall guard said.
I took it, and he left. As he walked away, I peeked inside the pack. A sleeping roll and a light dinner of bread, cheese, and fruit.
Yep. Looked like I’d be spending the night here.
Once I had the place to myself again, I inspected every stone carefully. It wasn’t until I climbed to the top of the center stone, my ribs aching from the lion’s blow, that I saw the tiny flattened area right in the middle. The perfect size for my little golden charm.
I pulled it out of my bra and put it in place, where it fit perfectly.
I grinned, then retrieved the stone and hopped down, wincing slightly at the pain in my ribs. When it was closer to dawn, I’d put it back in place.
I returned to the shadows of the grove, which seemed like a good place to wait out the night. It gave me a view of the stone circle and a bit of protection from the elements.
I sat against a tree and ate my dinner as the sun set. Birds chirped and fairy lights filled the sky.
Suddenly, I felt like I was being watched. Not the normal prickling sensation of the audience watching, but something else. In fact, I couldn’t sense the audience at all.
Tarron.
It had to be. He made it so they couldn’t see.
I stood and spun in a circle. “You’re spying on me and it’s creepy.”
“Hardly spying.” He stepped out from behind a tree about fifteen feet away. “Just enjoying the view.”
“And I’m the view?”
He shrugged, an elegant gesture that somehow only made him look more deadly.
“You tried to keep me from reaching the Finfolk. Why?”
“I didn’t try to stop you.”
“You lied to me about their location, then you created the wind that made it nearly impossible to approach. If I hadn’t been able to transport, I wouldn’t have made it. Why are you trying to stop me?”
He prowled closer, moving swiftly and gracefully until he stood right in front of me. “Being the king is boring. This is entertaining.”
There was no way he did things just for entertainment. This was a man with a mission. The way he held himself, the way he spoke, his constant alertness. “No, you’re after something.”
He was trying to figure out why he felt so strongly about me, but he also had ulterior motives. I could feel it.
He should be sitting in the stands, watching. But he wasn’t. He was manipulating the competition. Trying to manipulate me.
I shifted back from him, wary as a cat and hating myself for the attraction that made my heart race and pulse pound. The tension that tightened the air made my head fog. It was an electric current that lit me up and was impossible to ignore. What was it between us that made it like this?
He might have felt the fated mate connection when we’d first met, but did that mean I should feel it as well?
“What is it about you?” he murmured.
My gaze moved to his lips.
No.
I took one more step back, bumping into the tree trunk and wincing again at the pain in my ribs.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re injured.”
“Just a