Page 36 of Reign of Betrayal

“Oh, I almost forgot this…” She turns back, pulling a book from her apron and hands it to me. “You will love this one!”

I smile at her because she likes raunchy romance books just as much as I do. I thank her before she exits the room.

I sip the tea, warmth spreading through me as tiredness begins to creep in. The fire dances in the hearth, casting a soothing, flickering glow over the room. Comforted, I set the mug down and open the book, reading until my eyelids grow too heavy to keep open.

* * *

The dining hallbuzzes with idle chatter the next morning when I enter and take my seat beside Lilyana, who looks thoroughly hungover. Her normally perfect hair is disheveled, yet she still greets me with a warm, sweet smile.

As we chat, Lukene walks in, his eyes finding mine instantly.

He takes a seat across from me and, without a word, begins scooping food onto my plate. I roll my eyes. He always thinks he knows what’s best for me, but I can’t deny that I find his cold yet caring demeanor oddly charming.

Then Cora arrives, sitting beside Lukene, directly across from Lilyana. She places a hand on Lukene’s shoulder, but the tension in his body is immediate—his irritation thick in the air between us.

“Prince Lukene…” Cora’s voice is an insufferable whine. “I waited for you last night, but you never came—” She pins her frustrated glare on me as she says it. Lukene notices it like he notices everything. Without hesitation, he lifts her hand off his shoulder and drops it as if it’s garbage.

“Well, that was a stupid decision on your part. You invited me. I declined. I don’t see where the confusion is Cora,” he says.

Her voice turns sharp with malice. “You were rolling in the sheets with her, weren’t you?” She gestures toward me. “An alley rat from the Drifts, no doubt!”

Lukene’s hands are resting on the table. Slowly, a menacing black shadow slithers out of his hand close to the plates, moving like inky fog—spreading. It moves tantalizingly slow, snaking around, heading toward Cora. She goes rigid, looking at the inky blackness, then to Lukene. He is facing her now, anger written all over his face.

“Cora,” he says, voice calm but brimming with danger. “You will refrain from acting like a spoiled palace brat. You will show respect to our contestants. And for the record, who I bed, where I bed them, and how I bed them is none of your concern—never has been and never will be.”

The shadows tighten briefly around her hand, making her wince. “Do I make myself clear?” he asks.

She nods quickly, and the shadows dissolve into nothing.

“And don’t insult me by suggesting I’d ever touch someone from the Drifts—or worse, the Hollows,” he scoffs, his tone dripping with disgust.

I look down at my plate, but I feel his gaze on me, probably trying to gauge my reaction to his words. Unsure of why his words stung like an unpredictable backhand, I decide not to look up and meet his glare. Let him wonder. Lilyana places a hand on my knee under the table to comfort me. Gods and goddesses, I love Lilyana. Her friendship recently has given me something to look forward to.

The king enters with Vanna, and we all rise. Lukene’s gaze still lingers on me, but I ignore it. I glance at Elm and Larah, and we exchange our usual gesture—braiding our fingers together and kissing them. They mirror the motion.

When I meet Lukene’s eyes again, he cocks his head slightly, his mouth open just a bit, brows lifted in curious thought. Gods, I want to slap that assessing look off his face.

The king approaches the table, and we bow.

“Today, our contestants will compete in their first trial to become my champion,” the king announces. “Everyone be seated—except the contestants.”

I remain standing with the other eighteen contestants, watching the other guests at the table settle in their seats.

“Your first trial will take place in the Shadowed Forest,” the king continues. “You must navigate through the forest and reach the top of Serpent’s Reach. You have three days. You may eliminate any threat—including other contestants.”

The king turns to the dark prince. “Prince Lukene...”

Lukene rises. “Guards, join your matched contestants and place their bracelets on them. These bracelets are infused with blood magic to track your location. If you try to run, we will find you—and eliminate you.” His wicked smile sends a shiver down my spine.

Walking over to me, Lukene reaches his large hand out. “Your right wrist, prisoner…”

I give him my wrist. He tenderly rubs his thumb over my prisoner number: 7296. I shiver, as his calloused finger scrapes over my inked flesh. I notice Cora’s sharp gaze locked on us, her expression dark with jealousy.

Lukene snaps the bracelet onto my wrist. The metal is cold and heavy, snug against my skin.

“You won’t be able to get it off, so don’t even try. You will only hurt yourself,” Lukene says to the crowd. “Let us raise our glasses to the contestants.” Lukene picks up my glass and hands it to me.

“To the contestants!” he says with a handsome, smug smile.

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