Page 185 of Tale of the Heart Queen

I’m coming for you, I say to Nadir. I can feel him across the distance separating us. I almost lost him once, and I swore I would never let anyone take him again.

I love you, Lor.

My throat knots at the raw finality in his voice.

No, this isn’t the end. Tell me that again when we get the fuck out of here.

Over the distance, our gazes meet, and I see him fall to a knee with his hand pressed over his chest. Then let’s fucking do this, Heart Queen.

“Ready!” Herric shouts as I turn to look at him.

He drops his arms, and our platforms slowly start to lower when a disembodied voice floats over our heads, backdropped by thousands of breathless, vicious cheers.

I make a promise to myself.

I don’t care what it takes.

This will not be goodbye.

3 . . .

2 . . .

1 . . .

Go!

CHAPTER 65

For several seconds, the platform descends at a steady pace until a horn blasts through the white noise of the spectators, and it plummets. I scream, airborne for several long, stomach-lifting moments before I plunge into the prickly heart of a thick bush.

At first, I’m grateful it broke my fall, but then I realize it’s a tangle of thorns. They cling to my hair and my clothes, pulling, scraping, and tearing as I struggle to extricate myself. I curse a blue streak, not only for the awkwardness of this position but for the fact that I’ve once again been forced into a contest that I never entered.

What kind of sick poetic justice is this?

I continue to struggle as warm blood trickles down my cheek and my hands sting from scratches. Finally, I heave myself over and roll off the bush before collapsing in a heap on the ground, finding a patch of short grass to cushion my landing.

Lor. Where are you?

I fell into a fucking nest of thorns.

Okay, well, I don’t want to alarm you . . .

He drifts off, but I’m already on my feet, running, leaping over small plants and rocks, my arms pumping to gather speed.

I seem to have landed in quicksand.

Fuck.

I weave through a dense tangle of trees and plants while the crowd screams all around us. I try to tune them out, knowing they’re here as a distraction. As I run, I catch the slither of movement in the corner of my eyes, but it’s too fast to identify what’s lurking out here.

Given the nature of our environment, I’m sure there will be deadly monsters or creatures, and who the fuck knows what else waiting for us.

Dry grass crunches under my feet, dust kicking up. I focus on the spot where I think Nadir was standing, hoping I’m headed in the right direction.

I chance a glimpse to my left and then to my right, checking for any signs of danger, when my gaze snags on a small pile deposited against a tree. A sword, a canvas pack, a bow, a quiver of arrows—and my dagger with the heart-shaped stone. I was still wearing it when Rion knocked me out. This is another part of Herric’s sick game.

How much time will I lose if I go for them? I make a split-second decision.