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The white bear neared his first victim, and roared. I sucked in a breath as a blast of ice burst from the beast’s maw. Mere heartbeats later, the ice formed points and tore into the fae. The rebel dropped to the dirt, screaming in pain, but the bear silenced him by tearing into his throat.
“One rebel found guilty by the stars!” the announcer, still flying above the bear, shouted. “What will come of the others’ fates?”
I felt ill. As if we didn’t all know. This was no fair trial.
Nor did it seem that it was much of a contest for the bear. He killed one female dwarf, and then another male fae in quick order. With each kill, the king grew more rambunctious, pleased with the beast that was the symbol of his house.
“It will be over soon.” Prince Vale leaned closer, shifted his hand to clasp mine, and squeezed as the bear flung a barrage of magic at the final fae. The male leapt out of the way just in time.
That move enraged the beast as much as it did the king, now roaring with displeasure along with his subjects. The bear charged as more icicles flung ahead of it in an unavoidable spray.
One impaled the fae’s chest, then two, three, and four. The fae staggered, and the bear closed in. With a giant swipe of its claws the fae’s guts flew from his body. And yet, somehow, the fae still twisted, tried to run. Bloody teeth bared in a macabre smile, the bear followed, as if ecstatic to continue the hunt.
“Oh stars,” I moaned. “I can’t wat—”
Prince Vale took my chin in his hand and turned my face so that we stared at one another. I started, but he shook his head, “Don’t look at them. Just look at me. Only at me.”
The king bellowed at the general depravity in the pit, the crowd clamored for more blood, but I did as the prince said. I stared at him, relieved to have a focus, something to do rather than listen to the screams below.
“Watch me,” he whispered. “It’s almost over. I promise.”
Finally, the bloodthirsty cries of the fae in the pit died and with their last breaths, I exhaled. The farce of a trial ended, the last rebel died, and no one had anything more to cheer about.
“It’s over,” he whispered and squeezed my hand.
We broke apart, and I stared at my hands, head full of questions. What was he doing? How did this fit into his plan?
I got no answers, but rather more questions as he leaned closer and dropped a soft kiss on my cheek. “My lady, the feast awaits.”
My cheeks flamed, but I nodded, willing to go along with anything if it got me out of this barbaric place, away from his cruel father.
Together we stood, and I became acutely aware that, once again, we had the attention of most of the fae in the Pit, as well as that of the king, the queen, Prince Rhistel, and Prince Gervais.
The vampire’s eyes narrowed. A small predatory smile curled his lips, like a cat stalking a mouse. Vampires loved the chase, a challenge. Was this plan enticing him more? Or would he tell the king who I was?
No. Telling Magnus would be too easy. Plus, he’d have to admit that a slave escaped and killed his brother’s child. A vampire’s pride would not allow for that.
This could go only two ways. Prince Gervais would either want me to come to him and beg for mercy that I would never get, or the vampire would hunt me.
As for the king, his expression turned stony. By inviting me here and laying a claim to me, his son had done things he did not like. The fury on his face looked so intense I averted my gaze, looking right into the pit.
My stomach dropped. Innards were strewn about the dirt and the bear feasted on the corpses of the rebels. Stars, it was horrible.
And if whatever Prince Vale and Saga had planned did not work, and they caught me trying to escape, then soon, it might be my broken corpse down there.
Chapter 38
How anyone could want to eat after watching the massacre in the pit was a mystery. And yet, the jarls, great lords and ladies, and royals alike, filed toward the Grand Dining Hall. Few looked as upset as I felt inside.
We were among the first to arrive, and the prince swept me through the narrow, rectangular room to the head table. The expanse of wood was long enough to seat twelve and elevated above the other hundred or so fae who would be dining with us. He gestured to two seats at the end.
“Your cloak?” A servant appeared beside us.
I sloughed it off and handed it to the male. Another servant, this one a brownie, pulled out the last chair for me. The prince took the one next to me, far from the center of the long table.
His rightful place would be by his brother, the heir, but I was thankful that Prince Vale didn’t take it. The thought of sitting next to Prince Rhistel made me shudder. I wondered, though, aside from the Aabergs, who would claim the other five seats?
“They won’t make you move?” I asked the prince, mindful of Sir Caelo taking his place to stand behind us. They had not spoken as we walked here, but something in the way the knight and the prince took in their surroundings told me they were waiting for an attack.
