Page 14 of Fae Crown

“It looks to me that the queen excluded you from the trials,” West answered.

Itskedwith heavy sarcasm. “You don’t fucking say, West? I got that part. Couldn’t help but. What am I supposed to do now?”

Before any reply, I tugged on both handles—hard—but they didn’t budge at all. Unnatural for any door, it could mean only one thing: magic was in play.

Despite that obvious conclusion, I jerked on them again and again and again.

Nothing happened. Not a fucking thing.

While rubbing his smooth-shaven chin, Ryderhmmed. “I didn’t think this was possible. The magic of the trials determined that youandRush were co-winners of the Gladius Probatio. Of all the contestants, you should be the one most required to take part in the next stage.”

Feeling the mate bond rear within me, I didn’t bother quieting it. Rush was inside with a horde of grabby, wanton, disrespectful,man-stealingfemales.

When a growl rose up my chest, I didn’t hold it back, and when it emerged, by sunshine was it ever fierce. I sounded like the wolf West had likened me to, only I didn’t sound wounded. No, my growl was so vicious I appeared instants from rending flesh from bone.

Preferably, motherfreakingqueenie’s flesh. Her bones.

With both fists, I pounded against the doors.

“Let me in,” I shouted without a lick of self-consciousness.

The queen intended to keep me out?Me? True heir to her throne and true mate to her heir apparent?

Fuck. No.

“Elowyn,” Ryder cautioned from close behind. “You’re still in the queen’s court. Be careful. She could accuse you of unseemly, disrespectful behavior.”

“Disrespectful,” I said with a snort. “As if I’m the one who’s disrespectful here.”

Again, I banged on the doors. My fists were loud against the wood. But if they were bespelled shut, I couldn’t even be certain those on the other side were hearing a damn thing. From this side—the freakingwrongside—no sounds leaked out.

I punctuated the slam of my fists with a looping chant of, “Let. Me. In.”

And then—the doors flew open.

With both hands raised, I stilled in mid-motion, gawping at Tall Announcer Guy.

Mere minutes had passed and yet the fae scarcely resembled the man he’d been.

Most of his shoulder-length hair had escaped the single braid that had rested along his back. The loose strands stood on end, long and straight, as if they were stiff wire. His eyebrows, usually thick and dark, were gone, tender pink flesh the only indication of where they’d been. And from his nostrils, now entirely hairless, emerged a small puff of smoke.

Of his clothing, only tatters remained of his dusty rose suit. A swath of fabric clung valiantly to his twig and berries, shielding them from my sight, but little else concealed his body and the hundreds of painful-looking gashes that sliced through every part of his exposed skin.

It was as if several umbracs had whipped him with their barbed tentacles, searing flesh with their poison while ripping off the top layers. Even his forehead, cheeks, and chin hadn’t been spared.

Innumerable lines of raw, red flesh welled with blood before weeping with it.

Despite the agony he must be suffering, the man held his spine straight and once more trained his stare on a point far behind me. In an admirably steady tone, he stated, “The Viscountess Elowyn Ashira of Forzantos.”

I blinked. So we were going to ignore the fact that something—likely the magic of the Fae Heir Trials—had nearly killed him? Okay, then…

Apparently I was back to being the phony viscountess of a clan territory I’d never been to instead of a mere “lady.” And the queen persisted in hiding theXiomaraof my name that linked me to her mother—tomygrandmother.

Tall Announcer Guy stepped to one side and extended his hand toward the curtains, pristine and untouched by whatever had brutalized him.

Suddenly uncertain, I glanced at Ryder and West. Ryder was scowling when he shrugged, as if unwillingto say aloud what I already realized: no matter how I felt about anything, I had to go through with the next stage of the Fae Heir Trials.

West’s eyes were wide enough to crinkle his forehead. He offered no alternative option.

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