Page 99 of Chosen By the Fae King

“I can't hit you with a stick, Aeryn. Nor can I handle getting hit with one. I need wine to get through the rest of this bloody tournament,” she huffed, dragging a hand down her face and smearing dirt. “This is all too much for my delicate sensibilities.”

“Your sensibilities left long ago, dear one.” I poked her side, and she swatted at me. “The mighty Sofiya, felled by her own need for a drink. How the mighty have fallen.”

“The mighty Sofiya,” she echoed. “Go on, pin me. I'll lie here and think of...” Her gaze slid to Lorne, watching over us. “Other things.”

Lorne's mouth twitched. He cleared his throat and straightened, affecting a stern demeanor once more. “Finish it Aeryn.”

“As the prince commands.” I straddled Sofiya's waist and pressed her shoulders to the dirt. Bending, I stage-whispered, “Think of me when you lie alone tonight.”

She sputtered with laughter as I helped her up. Lorne watched us, not even trying to hide his amusement now. I shot him a wink and turned to my awaiting opponent.

My humor fled. The lightness in my step abandoned me.

Zoriyah strode into the ring, spinning her bo staff with casual menace. Her ice blue eyes gleamed as they landed on me, a cruel twist to her mouth.

We hadn't interacted since the incident in the maze and I'd done my best to put it behind me. She may have attacked, but she hadn't intended to kill, hard as it was to believe.

Of all the candidates, though, Zoriyah seemed the most likely to be involved in the plot to take over the kingdom. She was a walking, talking representation of ambition and superiority.

Unluckily, I needed to touch her to be sure; and I really didn't want my flesh to come into contact with hers.

I flexed my fingers around my staff and faced the female. This would be no easy match. She'd had decades of practice and was motivated by a history with Nox, one she'd made clear she wanted to continue.

But she hadn't spent her life fighting to survive. I had. Though I wasn't skilled enough to outright beat her, I would never make it easy for the shrew.

I attacked without warning, staff blurring, hoping to use the element of surprise to my advantage. Zoriyah deflected the blow and spun away, fire flickering over her staff and disappearing at Lorne's warning growl.

“Get control of it,” he warned menacingly, “or I'll declare the winner right now.”

“Understood, Sire,” Zoriyah clipped.

She began attacking in earnest, like a demon possessed.

Our sticks clashed in a flurry of blows, clacking loudly as they made contact. Zoriyah was fast, her strikes precise, but I was faster at avoiding her staff.

Again and again, I avoided her hits eight times out of ten. The few times I slipped past her defenses, I pulled each blow to avoid causing serious injury.

Not that she returned the favor. A glancing strike to my ribs nearly stole my breath, and another caught my wrist, numbing my hand. I gritted my teeth against the pain.

Zoriyah's frenzied assaults kept me primarily on defense. Though, it was what I was best at. I just needed her to wear out before I did.

It went on forever. I couldn't get close enough to touch her, especially with her long sleeves in the way. Frustration and desperation rose in equal measure. There had to be a way.

Her next strike went too high. I landed a hit to the side of her knee and she stumbled. As I twirled, the tip of my staff smacked her across the face—completely on accident.

She let out a battle cry, more unhinged than any banshee could have ever hoped. It was so disturbing I laughed without meaning to.

A literal firestorm spun in her eyes. Zoriyah lunged. I twisted aside, but not fast enough. Agonizing heat seared under my armpit and across my breast as I tumbled away, clutching the injury.

Lorne cursed and started to enter the ring. “No!” I yelled at him. “Not yet.”

He looked off to someone outside my field of vision and then backed away.

Zoriyah laughed maniacally. “Next I'll melt off the other tit. We'll see how attractive you are then. Nox enjoys an ample chest. I remember his attentions well.”

Rage at her taunt blotted out the pain. She'd used her power to burn me, to melt my flesh when I'd pulled every blow.

How dare she? I surged to my feet, vision tinged with red. She'd pushed too far.

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