Page 87 of Blooms of Darkness

Vivienne stood and joined my father at the front of the dais and requested to speak.

“Some fates know what others do not. May speed and magic guide you home.” She smiled down at the contenders.

Her words were short for a change, and somewhat more understandable than usual. If home meant the finish line at least.

The audience clapped along with my father, everyone ready for the second trial to begin. Anticipation hung in the air, identical to a thick humidity on the late days of summer.

“Contenders, take your places on the starting line,” the king exclaimed as the contenders moved from the tunnel’s exit to the marked white line on the arena floor. “You have one hour to complete the course. Fail to complete the course within the allotted time, and you will be eliminated.”

With a wave of his hand, an hourglass appeared, hovering above the arena for all to see. Roses and blooms coiled along the handles in a spectacular display of elegance.

“Unlike in the first trial, you may use whatever special abilities or magic you possess. Show us your magical strength! Be strong, be brave, and be smart. Prove to me you are worthy of sitting in this chair! May nature guide you!”

A loud clang of bells behind me caught me off guard as I jumped out of my chair. The second trial officially began.

From behind, Andras curled his hands around my shoulders, knowing he scared me, enjoying every moment of it. “Apologies, Princess.”

I jerked forward, out of his grasp, not caring how others could perceive it. The slimy man usually refrained from touching me at all, and I refused to let him think it acceptable to do so now.

I focused my gaze on the arena as the contenders ran onto the course. Kade’s eyes met my own, and he winked before running off after the others. This time my heart was torn with annoyance at his arrogance, and the sexiness of his confidence.

I heard my mother’s voice. “Are you all right, my King?” She rubbed his arm.

“Yes, yes, just tired, that’s all,” he replied sweetly to her worry. “Come, let’s see what our exceptional Earth Fae have concocted for our contenders today.”

Ian shifted and flew over and under the sand pit traps with such ease that when he shifted back into his Fae form on the other side, he gave a shrug toward me like he had nothing to worry about. He could fly over the entire course, but it wouldn’t have been his style. He’d like to show off his agility too much. Women in the crowd cheered his name, practically falling over themselves in some areas of the stands.

My deep belly laugh earned a sharp glare from a few guards around us. At least I knew if he didn’t win this, he’d have the undying devotion of his fan club to fall back on.

A loud bang sounded, and I watched in awe as Ryland flicked his hand forward toward a large, sharp wheel-shaped object in the sandpit, and it exploded. Shock rippled through the stadium as he did the same with two other pieces in front of him, blasting his way through the pit’s obstacles while also clearing a path for those behind him.

Blast magic.

Hale bounded across the mismatched wood pillars, and I gasped as he moved discarded debris to form a pathway for himself to get to the narrow bridges, making it seem like nothing at all. He had simply created a bridge for himself.

Summoner magic.

I had known what his abilities were, of course, but observing him construct a bridge mid-jump proved more exciting than lifting his fork without holding it at the dinners we’d attended together.

The crowd’s entertainment was obvious as laughter and cheering echoed throughout the arena. I had to admit, seeing everyone make the course look simple slightly eased my worries and concerns.

Ian approached the wooded area when he froze, his head whipping around as if he’d heard something. Lord West came up behind him, lunging forward, but Ian shifted and avoided him, flying sideways.

A flash of white darted from somewhere within the forest, knocking into Ian’s hawk form, sending him flying into a tree and shifting back.

I screamed, standing from my seat as the white blur solidified.

A razorven.

Jerking my head toward my father, I asked, “What are you thinking?”

The king’s frown turned grave. My mother reached for his arm, and they whispered amongst one another.

Ian kicked the beast off of him, unsheathing his sword. Before he could move again, Lord West approached next to him. Thankfully, two of them could likely fight off the razorven with no issue. But Lord West grabbed Ian, taking him completely by surprise and spinning him, pressing him to the ground.

“Ian!” I shouted, leaning over the dais.

They were arguing while the razorven stalked closer, its slit tongue licking over its rounded snout. Lord West shoved Ian down again and then jumped up, shifting into Ian’s hawk.

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