Chapter 9
NINE
Shay
The next morning, Dirge was completely fine—okay, he was better than fine, if the way he kept trying to drag me back to bed was any indication. But given what lay ahead, I was too nervous to fool around.
After the second trial had nearly killed him, I was determined to keep him the fuck away from the third trial, whatever it was.
He wasn’t going to make it easy, though, and I had a hard time telling him no when I knew he wanted what was best for both of us.
But for his safety, I would put my foot down.
The man was currently whistling as he combed his hair in the bathroom, but the nervous beat of my heart was loud enough in my ears to muffle the cheerful sound.
There was so much at stake.
Our lives, the most imminent concern. The omega stone our pack needed to keep all our loved ones safe. And, if my mother were to be believed, immortality for Dirge.
But could I actually take a full fae form?
My powers were already strong enough to scare me.
Not that I’d shared any insecurity about what I was becoming with my pack mates, but they were all wolves.
I was something else. Fiona’s powers were the nearest to what I was experiencing, and I’d seen firsthand what happened when she lost control.
I was absolutely scared shitless that if I tapped in to the well of power in my chest, I might hurt someone, most of all Dirge.
But if you do it, he’s immortal. You can’t hurt him anymore. My wolf was present with me and, as usual, the voice of reason.
No, I couldn’t kill him, but I could definitely hurt him.
She huffed, spinning in a circle and lying with her back to me to show what she thought of that idea.
So mature, I jabbed. Maturely.
“Ready to go?” Dirge’s grin was wide as he stepped out of the bathroom, looking sexier than sin dipped in chocolate.
“Umm, yeah. I guess.”
He arched an eyebrow at me, closing the distance between us to wrap me in his arms. His steady heartbeat under my ear was the first thing to actually break through the nerves. He was rock steady, my mate. No matter what the stakes, I could depend on him.
And today? Today, he was going to depend on me.
“I’m ready.” This time, I meant it.
My hand was on the doorknob when someone knocked. I paused. “Yes?”
“Delivery.”
Dirge and I exchanged a confused glance.
“I didn’t order anything,” I called back through the door, infinitely suspicious after the interference in the second trial.
“Ms. Shailene Woodlawn and Dirge Monstru?”
“That’s us,” Dirge called from over my shoulder, then nodded for me to open the door.
A liveried footman stood on the other side, a crystal tray in his hands with two decanters no taller than my palm was wide.
Inside was an opalescent purple liquid. A thick, cream-colored note card lay on the tray between the two bottles.
I picked it up, eyeing the rest of the delivery with skepticism.
Shailene,
I can’t tell you anything about this challenge, only that you’ll likely need to shift forms. This potion is provided by your mother’s witch. It will allow you to keep your clothes and weaponry between forms for as long as you’re in the fae realm.
Consider it a gift.
Love,
Brand
I held up the handwritten note for Dirge to read, and tried to pretend that one little word at the end wasn’t making my heart clench angrily.
Love, really?
“What do you think?” I asked bitterly when he dropped the note back onto the tray, the stony-faced deliveryman pretending this wasn’t at all abnormal.
“I think Brand means well, and if he says we need it, then I trust him.” He gestured for the deliveryman to pass over the tray, then shut the door so we were alone again.
I closed my eyes, fighting for my composure as he set the tray on the dresser. Why did the simple words feel like a betrayal? He trusted the man who’d abandoned me? Left me alone and defenseless in the world?
Who’d never even bothered to tell me he was my father?
Fuck that.
“I don’t.”
“I know.” His smile was sad when he turned back my way, more grimace than joy. “I’ve asked him to tell you the rest, but he says he can’t. There’s a spell blocking your memories, and he’s worried it will hurt you if the memories are released incorrectly.”
“What? How long have you known this?”
“Since the first day here. He also asked me not to tell you because he didn’t know what would happen if the spell was tampered with. Given what a rough time we’ve had here, his worries seem understandable.”
“How convenient.” I crossed my arms over my chest, fighting the urge to storm off like a petulant child. But damn it, my own mate keeping secrets from me was not okay.
A melodic clock chime sounded the hour, reminding me we were supposed to be downstairs right now. Shoot.
“We don’t have time to argue. Are you sure?”
Dirge nodded, lifting the note toward my nose. “It’s got his scent and no one else’s. He placed it on the tray personally.”
“Welp, I guess it’s bottoms up.” I held out my hand, and he passed me one of the decanters, then unstoppered his own.
“Bottoms up.” He clinked the edge of his decanter to mine, and then we both tossed them back.
I coughed and wiped my mouth. “Goddess, it tasted like drinking a gummy bear mixed with troll.”
His grimace mirrored mine. “Unicorn shit. I was going to say unicorn shit.”
The clock chimed again, and we were out of time to complain.
The servant today led us back where we’d started in the fae court itself.
My parents were in full state dress, seated on ornate thrones of crystal, with living, flowered vines twining around the spires that reached up over their heads as if designed for the sole purpose of making the thrones catch the sun. It was dazzling, blinding, and more than a little upsetting.
They had Goddess-damned thrones, and they couldn’t handle one small daughter. Had tossed me away like trash.
Anger simmered under my skin, but I did my best to ignore it.
“Welcome, one and all,” Queen Lyrica said from her throne, lifting a gracious hand to the crowd who’d gathered to witness our third trial.
A quick glance showed no animosity, which was surprising. There was a feeling of bloodthirst, as if they were hungry for whatever was about to happen next. Logic said that didn’t bode well, but I was determined to take this task on alone, whatever it was.
“Today, one brave challenger will run the gauntlet. At the end lies your prize. If you make it through the gauntlet and retrieve it, then return alive, it is yours. If you fail, you will perish. Once you step foot onto the sand, none may save you. Are you sure you wish to proceed?” Her eyes, pinned to my own, softened as she asked the question, as if the queen was silently begging me to say no, to walk away.
Despite the way my heart banged against my rib cage, there was only one possible answer I could give. “I’m sure.”
She closed her eyes, a pained expression flashing briefly across her features before she carefully tucked it away again. For that split second, she looked like a mother, and it shook me to my core. “Very well. Which of you seeks to face the gauntlet?”
“I do!” I practically shouted, cutting Dirge off before he could get a word out.
“And so it shall be.” Her smile was sad, and she turned her face away from me. She couldn’t bear to look at me, knowing what was coming, and somehow that made it infinitely worse.
I wanted her to see me, see the child she’d tossed away and left to fend for herself in the world. See the creature her hatefulness had forged from pain and suffering. I needed her to experience some little bit of the hurt she’d so carelessly caused me.
Brand stood, pulling an unsteady Lyrica to her feet, and the thrones whooshed apart, disappearing from the dais.
As the chairs swept away, a new landscape was revealed behind the thrones. One that was bitterly incongruous with every beautiful thing in faerie.
It was harsh and desolate and formed from black volcanic rock. Craggy cliffs and fetid steam rising into the air lent everything an eerie haze. It looked like the entrance to hell itself. A vicious howl sliced through the wind, and the hair rose on the back of my neck.
That’s no wolf.
Dirge stepped in front of me, blocking out the horrors that lay ahead. “You don’t have to go. I’ll go, or we can leave. I want you safe more than I want a piece of the omega stone.”
“I know, but our pack mates need us.”
“They do.”
I pressed up on my toes and pressed a quick, fervent kiss to his lips. “I love you more than anything. And I’ll be back.”
Before he could argue, I darted around him and ran straight into the depths of hell.
The instant both feet were on the hot onyx stone of the gauntlet, the fae court disappeared behind me, gone in a flash as if it had never existed.
I swallowed hard, taking a moment to recenter myself in this strange new landscape.
Behind me was nothingness, with limited light and rapidly encroaching darkness, only the occasional flash of lightning to indicate this hellscape didn’t end just out of sight, but stretched on and on.
Ahead of me, the view was only marginally better. The light was red, the outline of a ghostly sun visible through the murky air, and it made me wonder if the rotten-egg stench that permeated this place came from that foul star or the ground or whatever lay beneath it all.
In the end, none of that mattered, and the longer I stood here in indecision, the longer I had to put up with this shitty plane.
Forward it is.
My wolf was silent as I began the trek, grateful for the thick soles of my boots that buffered my feet from the heat wafting up from the ground. I needed to make this quick, or dehydration would decide my fate.
I began to jog, eating up the uneven ground in steady strides as I scanned back and forth for anything to indicate where the stone fragment was hidden.