Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(34)

“Fucking psychopaths,” I muttered. I wanted to run, but I still didn’t know how the trap worked.

And the fact that the princesses were still there—watching—made me think it wasn’t over yet.

I scanned the bloody ground, trying to figure out what had severed their legs. It took me a few seconds, then I noticed a faint shimmer in the air, a narrow line strung across the path. A few red beads of blood dripped from it, perfect round drops of red against white, like holly berries in the snow. The princesses had set up some sort of razor-sharp magical trip wire.

The screams of pain still filled the icy air.

With a grunt, I leaned down, snatched up a thin tree branch, and threw it on the wire. It sliced clean through the wood, and I heard the princesses tittering on the other side.

“Do you think this is funny?” I shouted. “Injuring and disfiguring people?” I turned. “They’ve set up a razor wire!”

Around me, the other fae were shouting curses at the princesses.

The princesses fell silent, and Moria’s smile slipped. She turned, stomping off through the snow. I watched as she started jogging again, though her sluggish gait suggested she was tired from her earlier sprint.

I could simply leap over the wire, but I no idea if everyone had heard me. Did I want fifty million? Hell, yes, I did. But even that much money wasn’t worth a ton of severed limbs on my conscience.

I glanced at a mossy rock by the edge of the path. I snatched it up, took several steps closer, and hurled it at the wire. The wire snapped with a sharp twang.

I broke into a sprint, hoping they hadn’t set up any more. I scanned the ground while I ran, desperately trying to catch the faint sheen of wire.

Up ahead, the princesses looked fatigued. I was starting to gain on them. When we broke from the woods, I was no more than five yards behind the princesses.

With a burst of speed, I pumped my arms hard and passed the hindmost princess, a delicate beauty with dark skin who was gasping audibly. I ran past the ravaged corpse of a fae with white hair, her head ripped from her neck, staining the snow with claret.

Up ahead, a red-haired princess was raking her long claws through another common fae, tearing through her chest.

Holy shit.

But I was still moving faster, catching up with the princesses. I listened to the sound of their wheezing.

Ahead, the finish line was maybe two tenths of a mile away. With a final sprint, I could pass them all. I dodged past another one, closing in on Moria.

But as I narrowed the gap, she turned to look at me. Her elbow slammed into my chest with a force that knocked me flat on my back. I scrambled up, but another foot caught me in the side.

Something snapped, the disturbing sound of breaking bone…

Oh, fuck.

It was a weird sensation, not immediately painful, but then a shooting pain lanced through me. As I started after the princesses, agony tore at my side. Up ahead, Moria crossed the finish line, her burgundy hair flowing behind her, arms over her head.

I shambled forward, trying to run.

Pain engulfed my chest, and something was wrong with my breathing. I coughed, and blood spattered into the snow. I stared with horror at the red droplets.

They’d punctured my fucking lung.

I staggered forward, spitting hot blood on the ground. Gasping, I looked up at the stands in the distance, and the princesses jogging up the hill toward the castle.

I was about to lose.

From up ahead, I heard a woman yell, “Can’t run with a hole in your lung!”

I stumbled forward, clutching at my side. Two tenths of a mile to the castle that towered over the landscape, but I could no longer walk, let alone run.

I slipped my hand into my pocket, feeling for the vials of magic Torin had given me. Did I want to run into a cloud of gas? Absolutely not. Was it the only way to get past this trial and closer to my fifty million? Probably, yes.

Shaking, I jammed my hand into my pocket and drew out one of the vials, staring in a daze at the faint orange light glimmering between my fingers. Precisely as Torin had told me not to do, I hurled it ahead of the princesses who’d taken the lead.

The vial exploded, and an orange mist billowed into the air.

Even from here, the inhalation hurt like crazy and breathing it in with a broken rib and injured lung was a blinding, maddening sort of agony. Based on the screams from in front of me, it was worse just twenty feet away.

Fortunately, I had another vial, one that would ensure I wouldn’t feel a thing.

I reached into my pocket removed the anti-pain potion. Shaking, I swallowed the contents, a slightly nauseating mixture of sickly sweet and medicinal herbs. I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth spread through my chest, and the pain disappeared immediately.

Up ahead, the runners had stopped, falling to the ground in the cloud of poison.

I started moving again, not at full speed, but putting one foot in front of the other. Tears streamed down my face as I dragged myself through the rosy cloud. The haze cleared, and the other fae—those with two functioning lungs—were passing me again. I shuffled forward, trying to keep up, dragging myself closer to the black castle on the hill and the waiting camera crews.

As a raven-haired princess passed me, she shot me a withering look, but she looked far too tired for any more attacks at this point.

One by one, the other contestants passed the finish line, someone calling out each of their names in a booming voice. A trumpet sounded, and the crowd screamed.