Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
T ilting my head back, I stare at the wall of trees that rise up before me. A sense of foreboding spreads through my chest like cold poison. I swallow. Don’t tell me that we’re actually going in there?
“Welcome to the fourth and final trial,” Imar calls across the grass.
Winds rush across the fields, snatching at my hair and clothes. I swallow and tear my gaze from the forest ahead before sliding it towards the cause for the sudden strong winds.
Ten dragons circle us from above. The air from their beating wings makes my hair whip across my face. Reaching up, I push it back so that I can see properly. Sunlight reflects against silver scales as the Icehearts cut downwards.
Gasps rip from two of the other contestants as the massive silver dragons fly so close to us that the tips of their wings almost slash across our faces. I flinch. As do most of the others. Only Lavendera remains completely motionless at the end of our straight row.
Glancing towards her, I briefly wonder if the Icehearts did something similar during the last trial and if that is how she ended up with that scar across her cheek and jaw.
The back of my neck prickles.
I don’t even need to turn around to know that it’s Draven who has flown up behind our backs. His imposing black dragon form looms behind, blocking out the sun and casting the grass around us in ominous darkness. My breath catches in my throat, and for one second, I’m convinced that he’s going to open his jaws and burn us all to ash. A shiver rolls down my spine. I suddenly understand exactly how he earned the nickname the Shadow of Death .
We stagger forward a little from the forceful winds as he beats his wings right behind our backs. Then he sweeps around us towards where the Icehearts are. The other seven clan leaders follow.
Booming sounds echo across the landscape as the ten dragons slam down on the grass. Black smoke explodes through the air. Then the shifters stride towards us. The seven clan leaders are in their human form, while both the Iceheart monarchs and Draven performed a half-shift. Sunlight glints against two pairs of silver wings and is swallowed by a pair of black wings.
I discreetly study Draven’s face, trying to read his mood.
Only his customary expression of ruthless power meets me.
My heart patters against my ribs. He still hasn’t retaliated from when I handcuffed him to his desk, and I can’t help but wonder if that is because he’s gearing up for something massive during the final trial today.
A ripple of apprehension mixed with nervous excitement courses through our now small row of contestants as Jessina and Bane come to a halt on the grass right in front of us. As usual, Draven takes up position on their right, two steps behind, while the rest of the clan leaders form a row behind them.
“During the Age of Strife,” Empress Jessina says, using the name that the shifters have for the historical period when fae were dragon riders, “you proved that you are a wicked and untrustworthy race. After we liberated ourselves from the bonds of servitude, we knew that we had to protect the rest of the world from people like you.”
I clench my jaw and squeeze my hand into a fist.
“So we raised this grand forest.” She sweeps a hand out to motion at the twisting forest of trees and thorns behind her. “And it has protected the world from your cruelty ever since.”
From the corner of my eye, I can see Alistair squeeze his hand into a fist as well.
“Now,” Emperor Bane picks up. “To atone for that past cruelty and to prove that you are worthy of redemption, it is only fitting that you must face the forest in your final trial.”
Another ripple of apprehension courses through me. Very few people who go into the forest ever return.
I flick a glance towards the twisting trees. Then my gaze darts over to Draven for a second.
I expect him to glare at me or shoot me threatening stares or something. But he doesn’t look at me at all. In fact, he hasn’t looked at me even once since he landed on the grass. As if we’re suddenly complete strangers again who have never interacted before. As if he didn’t lock me up in his room a few days ago. As if we didn’t share the same bed. As if he didn’t pin me to his wall and drove me to the brink of an orgasm with just his fingers. As if that furious kiss never happened. As if I never handcuffed him to his desk.
For a moment, I feel an absolutely pathetic sense of disappointment.
Now that I’m faced with this sudden indifference, I realize with a start that I actually quite enjoyed our banter and bickering and even our fights. It has been a breath of fresh air. A moment of freedom for me. A rare opportunity to just be myself without having to worry about pleasing anyone. Riling him up has been surprisingly fun. So in spite of his infuriating interference during these trials, I’ve begun to look forward to our interactions.
But I suppose that’s over now. If I win today, I will be officially recognized as a winner of the Atonement Trials by the Iceheart Dynasty, and there is nothing Draven can do to take that away from me. And if I lose, I will be stuck here for another one hundred and fifty years, just like he wants, and there is nothing I can do about it. So regardless of the outcome, we are now officially done with each other.
“Somewhere inside this forest is a stone altar,” Imar announces, yanking me out of my thoughts. “And on that stone altar are three rings. Your mission is to find and retrieve one of the rings.” His blue eyes gleam in the sunlight as he flashes us a foreboding smile. “And to make it out again alive.”
Dread washes over me as I cast another glance towards the forest. We’re supposed to find a ring? Inside that gigantic mess of trees and vines and thorns? My heart starts pounding faster in my chest. How the hell am I supposed to win this trial? I know nothing about how to navigate in the woods. And my magic is useless for this kind of thing too. There’s no way that I will be able to find the rings on my own.
“The three people who first kneel before your emperor and empress and present one of the rings will be crowned the winners of this century’s Atonement Trials,” Imar continues. “You can only present one ring. Other than that, there are no rules.”
“This is going to take days,” Trevor blurts out from a little farther down to my left.
We all start in surprise and cast stunned glances at him, shocked that he even dared to speak up. The Icehearts narrow their eyes at him, as if they’re displeased with his sudden outburst. Draven only continues staring straight in front of him, his face devoid of everything except that usual menacing air.
“Most likely, yes,” Imar replies.
“But how are we supposed to survive in the forest?” Trevor continues, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Without water or food or equipment.”
Imar lifts his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “That is up to you to figure out.”
I suppress a sigh as I gaze out at the unwelcoming forest before me. Great. Just great.
“Do whatever is necessary to obtain one of the rings.” Imar gives us a knowing look laced with both mockery and threats. “Because only three of you will be granted the privilege of leaving this city. And there will be one hundred and fifty years until the next Atonement Trials.”
Tension crackles like bolts of lightning through the air as we all exchange dark glances. Eyebrows are drawn down, jaws are clenched, and eyes are filled with determination. We all have different reasons for wanting to win. But we all want it desperately .
As I scan the faces of my fellow contestants, I know without a doubt that there will be no alliances now. No holding back. No mercy. We are all in this to win.
I drag in a deep breath as I shift my gaze back to Imar.
He flashes us a wicked smile. “Begin.”
I sprint towards the tree line.