Page 24 of To Sway a Demon Heart

Tyr laughed incredulously, and Carnon glowered, looking so darkly at Draven that there must be some sort of history there. I remembered his stony greeting on Samhain and frowned at the King. Elara put a soothing hand on his arm, and I turned to address Draven.

“The Lord of Blood has made similar accusations of you,” I said, trying to read the fear and panic in Draven’s face as he took in my mate and Elara’s.

Draven shook his head as if genuinely horrified. “I have never used blood magic,” he protested, “nor do I believe I possess the ability for it. You can question me under bloodberry, and I will swear to it.”

I looked at Tyr, who shared a skeptical glance with me. Carnon was still tight-lipped and practically trembling with rage. “Lord Tyr is not manipulating the trials, beyond what he was tasked to do in the Trial of Blood.”

“But—”

“I am confident,” Elara interjected, a soothing hand still on her mate’s arm, “that it will be a non-issue in this final trial.” I frowned, looking to my friend for clarification. She knew enough blood magic to defeat the Crone, and she had studied with Tyr. Her brows lifted as she regarded my mate, who nodded almost imperceptibly. “Let the trial proceed as planned.”

Draven’s expression was dour and his face was tight as he bowed, giving me a final pleading look before returning to the other contestants. Only five remained, but Draven strode straight to Shyama, bowing his head toward hers in rushed conversation.

“Will one of you please share your secrets with the rest of us?” Cerridwen drawled, looking between her brother and her friend in annoyance.

Elara and Tyr exchanged another look, but Elara’s only reply was a phrase I had heard her use once before.

“Fire destroys and also creates.”

TheTrialofFirewas the final test in the tournament, a trial designed to represent rebirth for the contestants, as only one would emerge from the ashes victorious.

This trial required my magic, and when Tyr had originally suggested it for the final trial I thought he was completely mad.

As we began, I thought he still might be a bit mad.

I pushed my magic into a dome of flame, large enough to encompass the courtyard and the five remaining contestants within. They had limited time to both overpower each other and emerge from the flames unscathed, and I was very conscious of the fact that I could be responsible for several deaths if I didn’t keep a tight leash on the flame.

Tenebris and the other members of the council were present, as well as some of the nobility from Blood. Cerridwen, Herne, Elara, and Carnon stood behind Tyr and me as we presided over the trial, looking on with expressions that ranged from mild interest—Herne—to outright horror—Cerridwen.

“Are you sure about this?” I gritted out, trying to focus on keeping the dome in place while also trying to sense if any of the contestants were in serious distress.

Tyr placed a comforting hand on my hip, the other bracing my shoulder as he lent me his strength. “Trust me. There’s a reason I thought this trial should be last.”

“This is ridiculous!” Tenebris shouted, voice sounding a little more frantic and less confident now that his heir was engulfed in flames. “You must end this.”

“You agreed to this, Lord Tenebris,” Tyr reminded the lord, growling the words over his shoulder without releasing me. “Be still and wait.”

My power had begun to wane when something finally appeared to shift inside the ball of flame. A flicker of darkness, as if something were trying to break free of the fire. The new Lord of Shadow would have to escape the flame using their own magic as part of the ritual, and I concentrated my power to keep the dome closed, feeling sweat run down my brow as I expended all of my magic.

Finally, a ball of shadow emerged, a cocoon of darkness that floated out from the flames and resulted in a roar from the gathered crowd. I dropped the fire, sagging a bit against Tyr as the new Lord of Shadow emerged victorious.

Except it wasn’t one Lord.

Shyama dropped the cocoon of darkness she had spun around herself and the male, who sagged to his knees as she pulled him from the fire. She dropped next to him, bracing herself on the ground as Tenebris roared in protest.

Draven was alive, but barely. Shyama had won.

“This is not possible!” Tenebris shouted, amidst the murmuring and hushed conversation of the council. “We agreed it would be Draven.”

I frowned, looking up at Tyr who was still supporting my weight, but had a brow raised at Tenebris. “The trials choose the new Lord, not the council,” he pointed out. “Lady Shyama is the new Lord of Shadow by rights.”

“She cheated,” Tenebris seethed, looking daggers at Shyama, who was too busy helping Draven cough up smoke to notice the elder lord’s vitriol. “There is no way she could have beaten my son otherwise.”

“Youcheated,” came a hoarse rasp from the courtyard, as all eyes turned to the defeated shadow demon still braced on the stone floor with Shyama’s arm around him.

Draven raised himself up with Shyama’s help, and I noticed that the other three contestants behind them were coughing and spluttering, but miraculously alive. Elara sprung into action, offering her Goddess healing to the injured contestants. There would be no more needless death for this tournament with my Queen in attendance.

Carnon had gone still and pale.