Page 15 of To Sway a Demon Heart

Tyr and I spent much of the next day questioning all the staff, trying to ascertain who might have had access to the food or drink of the male who had been poisoned. It felt familiar to be working with him again, despite the grim circumstances of our partnership, and the day passed quickly if unhelpfully. None of the staff knew or had seen anything, and by the time the second trial was upon us, Tyr was in a foul mood.

“I refuse to be blamed for this,” he raged as we walked out to the graveyard where the next trial would be held. Buttery sunlight had broken through the overcast, and this trial was scheduled to take place at sunset when the shadows would be at their longest. “If the nobles in Shadow try to accuse my staff of meddling in their tournament—”

“No one will accuse you of that,” I said patiently, struggling to keep up with his long stride. I was not a short female, but Tyr was exceptionally tall. He slowed for me, letting me finally catch up. “I’ll vouch for you if it comes to that.”

“Why?” Tyr asked, whirling on me so fast that I stumbled, and he shot out an arm to catch me. “Why are you so damned kind to me Brigid? Why won’t you leave me to my fate?”

“Is this a serious question?” I asked, looking up at him in surprise. His face was intense and strained, and he certainly looked serious.

“I rejected you,” he reminded me, lowering his voice. “I know I hurt you. Why are you determined to still be kind?”

I swallowed, uncertain how to answer in a way that wouldn’t make me seem weak or foolish. I sighed, accepting that maybe I was both. “Because you still deserve kindness,” I said, looking into his green eyes. “You hurting me doesn’t mean I have the right to hurt you back. That’s not who I am.”

Tyr looked at me disbelieving. “Do you not hear how good you are?” he asked, taking my hands in his. The move made the Pull strain in my chest, and I had to wrestle it back into submission. “Do you not see how little I deserve your kindness?”

“Whether you deserve it or not, Tyr,” I said, gently removing my hands from his, “you still have it. My kindness is not conditional with you.”

Tyr looked at me with that pained expression again, opening his mouth as if to reply. He closed it again, the words unspoken, and the tiny bubble of hope in my chest deflated.

“My lord and lady,” came a deep voice from the path below us. As one we looked to Draven, who was leaning against a headstone as if it weren’t a marker for the dead. I frowned, but he seemed not to notice. “We are ready to begin, when you are.”

Draven shot me an inquiring look, and I nodded. “We will be there shortly.” He nodded in response, casting me one last look as he turned back toward the center of the graveyard.

“Do you have something with him?” Tyr asked, turning to look at me sharply. “An understanding? If you do, I won’t get in your way.”

“Gods above, Tyr,” I said, letting my frustration escape more than I meant it to. “You are a Goddess-damned fool.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, clearly torn between anger and amusement at my uncharacteristic outburst. “I think this is the first time you’ve ever cursed at me.”

“I have no interest in Draven,” I snapped. “And if you took a second to actually considermyfeelings on anything, you’d know that.”

I made to turn, but he caught my arm gently, pulling me back to look at him. “I’m trying to protect you, Brigid,” he said, looking anguished. “You don’t want—”

“Stop telling me what I do and don’t want,” I growled, throwing caution to the wind and clasping his face in my hands. I pressed my lips to his, the kiss inelegant and bruising and unsatisfying, but hopefully emphatic enough to get my point across. “I know what I want,” I said, pulling away sharply and trying not to dwell on his hands pressing into my hips, or the slightly dazed look in his eye. “It’s you who needs to accept it.”

He let me go this time, and I strode toward the gathered contestants, who were milling about within the gated perimeter of the graveyard. Only a few nobles from Shadow had been permitted to attend this trial and none of the nobles from Blood. Tyr was taking no risks that his court could be accused of foul play.

“Finally, we can begin,” Tenebris said, his voice grating my already strained nerves. “Let us get this farce over with.”

“You can leave, Lord Tenebris, if you see this as nothing more than farce,” I snapped, taking my place in the hastily erected stands. “Your presence here is a privilege, not a right.”

Tenebris bristled, but he respected my rank enough not to argue, especially when Tyr stormed up looking furious. I may have pushed him a smidge too far.

“It’s time,” he announced unceremoniously. “You have one hour, no restrictions on magic use. The Trial of Shadow represents the final death before the Goddess and the Horned God, the end of your lives as you have known them. The last contestants standing will proceed to the final round.” Tyr glanced at me, and I kept my expression stony as he added, “Begin.”

There was no warning as the graveyard was plunged into shadows so thick, it was as if night had fallen prematurely. Great creatures of shadows writhed in the darkness, and screams and cries were muffled by the blanket of shadow. A chill ran through me, as a feminine scream rent the air, followed by eerie silence.

Tyr sat next to me, still and stoic as a statue while we watched the writhing shadows. It was impossible to know what was happening within, and who would be victorious. Tenebris was chatting unconcernedly and animatedly with the nobles around him, clearly confident that his son would emerge alive.

It was hard to tell how much time passed, but the sun was almost fully set when an explosion rocked the ground within the shadows, sending mud and stone flying in every direction.

“Shit,” Tyr said, knocking me to the side as a chunk of rock nearly hit us. “What the—”

A roar from the shadows erupted as something undefinable rose, its huge shadowy form lumbering toward us out of the graveyard.

“Stop this!” Tenebris cried as the shadow beast moved toward us, its unseeing eyes somehow finding us in the dark. “Whoever is casting that thing, stop it!”

“That is not just shadow magic,” Tyr growled, rising to his feet and staggering toward the beast and around the periphery of the graveyard. “It’s blood magic.”