Page 81 of The Heart Trials

Orrick reaches for her, and she twists her finger around his. Then he pulls her to him and timidly nestles against her in a hug. Lira smiles tightly, and I can’t tell if it’s real.

“Pass,” Dreth huffs. “To my right. Talia, up next.”

Lira exhales, and she and Orrick race to Mae’s side.

Talia and Jace are already beside one another with locked lips and bodies touching. He folds her backward, one arm hooked behind her and the other hand cradling the back of her head. She holds on to him as their mouths taste and pull at each other, making audible sounds.

I stare at the ground until it’s over. A couple of others go, and I wait with bated breath.

When Dreth says, “Prince Caelus,” my heart stops.

Caelus’s eyes lock with mine. He doesn’t move, gazing at me, letting the awkward silence hang there. His lips are poised, and I swallow, realizing I’m staring at them. Would it be easy to cross this distance and kiss him? A curl low in my stomach answers the question. Kade is my choice. Kade is the one I will betray.

Caelus steps forward, and I hold breath in my lungs, hoping he has a plan that does not involve me.

Then, he reaches for Callie.

He runs a delicate touch along her jaw, beckoning her. She leans forward on her tiptoes, unsteady, bringing her face up closer to his.

His mouth presses to hers.

But his eyes lock on mine.

As he kisses her, barely dusting their lips together, his stare slices through me, and it feels like a blade cutting to the bone, leaving me raw and exposed. She whimpers like a wounded animal. He holds her against him, keeping his focus, his gaze, his interest still on me.

“Alright, alright, enough.” Dreth waves Callie back to where she was. “Everything comes easy to prince boy.”

Callie can barely stand, she’s so smitten. Dreth waves Caelus and Callie to the group that’s passed, and she gushes about kissing a prince to Lira, who doesn’t even entertain her with a glance.

The next pair is disqualified for a side hug. I’m not sure of their names. Only Rhythe, Ivy, Kade, and I are left. I glare at Rhythe, still furious with him for setting me up to betray Dorian. I walked right into that trap. To think I was foolish enough to think we were the same. There is something else Saltblood know—loyalty.

He glares back. We have to stop Rhythe before he tries to hurt Dorian again, or anyone else he decides to target. Kade has to go too.

When my name is called, I am frozen.

Ready? Caelus mouths.

I nod, unable to stomach actual words. This isn’t a game. This is destroy or be destroyed. I turn to Kade, replaying the mannerisms of the other kisses I’ve seen in my mind on repeat, trying to remember where they put their hands, how they stared deeply in the other’s eyes, how tightly they held them.

Kade’s eyes darken. He starts to speak. “Axir—”

I shove him backward against a lamppost and press my lips to his. It is the worst thing I’ve ever tasted or felt. He tries to force his tongue inside my mouth, and I clamp my teeth shut, refusing it, but holding our lips together a beat longer so there is no denial that we kissed.

When I peel us apart, he wears a stupid smirk. “I knew you’d come around,” he says.

Dreth clears us, and I spit when he’s not looking. We join the group who will start the Trial of Loyalty. Tomorrow.

27

Islept terribly.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw lips—Kade’s hot and demanding, tasting like ash. My first kiss, stolen under the threat of elimination, soaked in desperation. It was a transaction wrapped in skin. Ick. It meant nothing, of course. Worse than nothing if there is such a thing. The memory clings like an oil I can’t scrub off.

And then there’s Caelus. The way he looked at me afterward. Not angry. Not even surprised. Just…still. Sunlight peeks through my tent and I cover my head, flipping onto my back and exhaling through my teeth. I didn’t come here for this—knots in my stomach or the weight of someone else’s silence. I need to remember that and refocus.

There are no noises in the arena outside my tent. I don’t want to see the arena again. But they’re coming for us any moment to take us to the second trial. I drag myself up and emerge from the folds of my solitude to an arena that still reeks of copper. Finn’s body has been removed, but nothing else has been reset. His blood still has not been cleaned. It was here last night when we returned for bed.

Chairs are still overturned. The bloody iron that impaled him is still on the ground beside the pit. In the haste of everyone scrambling away, a few tables were knocked aside, candles fell over, floral garlands were ripped down. The romantic facade on this steel prison has been destroyed.