Page 158 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
Willow
“Stay here,” I tell Becky, urgency tightening my voice. “Remember what I said.”
“About the metal?” She groans, reaching for her sword.
“About surviving.”
Our eyes lock. Understanding clicks between us, a primal connection forged in this nightmare’s crucible. She knows I’ll do everything to help her, and I won’t stop trying. Each obstacle, each person hurt, fuels my need to protect them all. Maybe Geraldine’s right—I’m building my pack. Either it’ll be the biggest this world has seen, or I am what the Six keep calling me, what I keep denying.
A queen.
I instinctively search for my mates in the tiers and locate them immediately. A rush of warmth flows through me. I lock eyes with Bodin, Legion, and Styx. Emrys is gone. Whether he’s with Varen, I don’t know. But his absence cuts me.
Bodin scowls at my inaction. Styx starts gesturing something, pointing to a spot in the arena. He hurt me, too, but I know my claws already work into his heart. He’s here and trying towarn me to pay attention. Smirking, I blow them a kiss and sprint across the arena. My boots kick up dust tasting of ash and despair. It feels empowering in a way I can’t explain.
I have one target—Alfie.
The fool.
By killing his competitors, he’s decimating our strength in numbers.
Rory always joked I was more snake than wolf. I don’t scream or snarl when my prey’s near. No war cry bellows from my lips. I’m light-footed. Silent. Sneaky. Calculated. They never see me coming.
So when Alfie looks up, I’m already within reach. I’ve cataloged his weapons. I know my chances. The dream pistol’s gone—only a blood-stained sword in his hand. I torpedo his waist, tackling him to the ground. His charms rattle as we hit and slide along the sand, grit scraping my skin.
“What the hell, Willow!”
I use the jarring impact to disarm him, but I’m not free. His arms wrap around me in a chokehold. The scent of his sweat, tinged with fear and adrenaline, fills my nostrils.
“You’re an idiot,” I hiss, headbutting him with a satisfying crunch.
Somehow, I’m on my feet, facing him in a crouch, ready for another round. My forehead throbs, but he’s worse. He covers his nose, stemming blood flow. Bright green eyes glare at me over his hand, filled with pain and betrayal.
“I can’t believe how far you’ve fallen,” he spits, words muffled.
“Me?” I laugh, drawing my sword. Elven strengthening glyphs flare to life, casting a soft blue glow on my face. “Look at you, cowardly killing them in their sleep.”
“How else do you think we win?” He wipes his nose and spots his sword on the ground beside me.
I step in front of it, blocking him. Sand shifts beneath my feet.
Disgust laces my voice. “What can she possibly give that’s worth this?”
“Anything I want!” He sneers, giving me a pitiful look. “A fucking dream come true.”
“Oh, Alfie.” I shake my head. “You’ve always been a sucker.” I move the resonance stone on my shirt closer to my mouth. I want everyone out there to hear this. “Titania can’t make every dream come true, only what’s within the limits of her power. And in case you haven’t noticed—her power’s dwindling, even after she stole mine. Puck had to use hundreds of jars of wisps stolen from Titania’s temple to activate the trials.”
I drop the stone. Above us, in the tiered stands, mouths and eyes widen. Faeries turn to each other, their whispers lost on the wind like ghostly echoes. We can’t hear them here, but I’ve made them think.
Doubt flickers in Alfie’s eyes before he glares at me. “Guess I’ll just wait and see when I win.”
His eyes dart to a scroll on the ground. “You’re not the only one destined for greatness, Willow. This trial is just the beginning.”
“What are you talking about?” I narrow my eyes, suddenly alert to the calculated gleam in his.
He chuckles, a sound devoid of warmth. “The subterranean holds more than just nightmares.”
“You’re delusional. There’s nothing but death below.”
