Page 7 of Chosen By the Fae King

Watching with bated breath, the brute removed a glove and reached into the pail. He withdrew a small piece of folded parchment, opened it, and grinned.

“Congratulations to Miss ... Sofiya Quinn!” he shouted.

A quiet pop of magic followed his announcement. My heart lurched.

Sofiya blinked rapidly, minutely shaking her head in disbelief. The female next to her nudged her forward and clapped quietly with some of the others.

“Sofiya,” I called.

She didn't react to her name. In a daze, she allowed a soldier to take her hand and guide her to stand next to the rider. Her parents embraced her and spoke words I couldn't hear.

Why weren't they doing anything to stop this?

No. This wasn't supposed to happen. I had to do something, but what? My arms were useless. Even if they weren't, I had no weapon.

With rising panic, I jerked and twisted and kicked. Fingers dug into me. I hardly felt them.

“Relax,” the tall one whispered. “She'll be fine.”

“No, she won't,” I hissed.

Think, Aeryn. Think!

Soldiers began lining back up in formation, minus the two restraining me. They would be gone soon. I might not ever see her again.

“Stop!” I yelled, drawing the rider's attention once more.

“Take me!” I pleaded. “Take me, not Sofiya.”

Silence descended and I waited for the worst, ready to make my case, to beg if I had to.

The rider looked to the burly, blonde-headed soldier to my left. “Thoughts?”

“Up to you, but I think the trials would be far more entertaining with your little hellion there. Might be worth putting up with her.”

I bristled at being considered his anything. But as long as they allowed it, I would be content.

“Very well,” the rider agreed. “Take them both.”

Before I could process his words, I was on a horse held tightly by the arse who'd suggested putting up with me because I'd be entertaining. At breakneck speed, we flew down the winding dirt road leading away from Greenhollow.

The mysterious rider led the way, not bothering to look back at his captives. I studied him surreptitiously, searching for any clues as to his identity, but his helmet obscured his features.

My gaze drifted down to the sword at his back and the dagger strapped to his thigh. Then I noticed my dagger at his lower back. Those could prove useful if I managed to get close enough.

We crested a hill and my breath caught. More soldiers on horseback were waiting a half mile ahead. Hundreds of them. Windowless carriages, painted black with no other identifying markings, sat in front of them.

Prisoner wagons.

I swallowed hard, dread pooling in my stomach. Rumors of the Bride Trials' ruthlessness and cruelty had spread across the kingdom eons ago. If even half the stories I'd heard were true, we were in grave danger, no matter what they'd told us about changing tradition.

In truth, I had only the barest beginnings of a plan. But I couldn't let Sofiya lose hope. I intended to get us out of this mess. King Nox would soon learn he had captured more trouble than he bargained for.

Two

Aeryn

Sofiya softly touched my arm, somehow navigating the darkness within this dreadful contraption. “We're here,” she whispered.

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