Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(73)

Confidence filled my body as I knew exactly when to duck, when to block.

Our blades scraped along each other like the sound of nails on a chalkboard. Moria was so close that our faces were nearly touching.

Unexpectedly, Moria spun, twisting her body, and drove her left elbow into the side of my head as she growled. With a brilliant flash of light, an explosion of pain engulfed me, and shadows blinded me. Frantically, I backpedaled, dizzy, unable to see.

Fuck.

I was prey now, about to lose my head like the others.

Moria began to laugh.

I pressed my free hand to my face. When I pulled it away, it was warm and wet. Blinded, bleeding…

Panic clogged my throat. How was I going to fight Moria if I couldn’t see?

But I’d done this before, hadn’t I. And beasts hunted by smell…

A ferocious animal instinct burned in me, and I listened for the sound of her blade. When she attacked again, I parried.

The world went quiet around me, and I heard only the sound of her heart beating, her sharp intake of breath.

You were born to rule, Ava.

The words rang, a deep voice in my head, though I had no idea where they’d come from.

But now, I could envision Moria clearly in my mind’s eye; the triumphant grin, the confident thrown-back shoulders. Her blade whooshed through the air once more, and our swords sang as they clashed.

I inhaled deeply, smelling her sickly sweet rosewater perfume. And I attacked, thrusting my blade directly into her chest.

The moment I did, the shadows cleared from my vision. Across from me, Moria staggered back, clutching at her breast. I pulled my sword from her, shocked at how close I’d come to her heart. I’d nearly taken my first life, a thought that didn’t feel nearly as horrifying as it should.

Moria collapsed to the ground, and somewhere beneath the sound of the screaming crowds, I could hear her whistling breath. I’d punctured a lung, and I knew all too well how that felt. Her skin had gone pale as milk, and she looked up at me with an expression that wavered between fear and rage.

Her heart was still beating, pumping blood all over the ice. But she wasn’t getting up again. The fight had ended.

I wiped my hand down the side of my face, then stared at the blood dripping from my palm onto the dark ice.

The crone crossed into the arena, and the wind whipped at her hair.

She nodded at me once, frowning, then threw back her head and screamed, “As the person with the most points, Ava Jones is the winner of our final tournament.” She raised her hands. “King Torin, Ruler of the Six Clans, High King of the Seelie, will announce his choice for queen. At sunset, in the throne hall, we will learn the name of our next high queen consort. Our queen shall make our kingdom thrive with life once more!”

The roar of the crowd vibrated off the stones, and I felt their exultant screams in my marrow.

Vaguely, I was aware of Orla rushing up to me, healing my ragged wounds with her magic.

I hardly wondered at all why the king wasn’t doing it himself.





34

A VA

I slid lower into the hot water, inhaling the scent of herbs that the fae used to perfume their baths.

Steam curled from the bathwater into the cool castle air.

When I closed my eyes, my mind flashed with images of blood—of Etain’s lifeless body. Of Sydoc’s.

I sank beneath the surface, rinsing off the blood that had dried on the side of my face. I stayed under the warm water as long as I could, hoping to clear my thoughts. My lungs started to burn, and I pushed against the side of the tub, rising again. Gasping for breath, I smoothed my hair back.

Blood swirled in the water around me.

Where had it come from, that ease with which I’d survived, even when blinded in the arena? And that voice in my mind, the one declaring I was born to rule?

My thoughts flicked back to that silver charm and how it had burned me. Here, in Faerie, there were puzzle pieces I couldn’t quite put together. My understanding of everything felt disjointed, out of place. A picture that didn’t quite make sense.

Torin was hiding secrets from me. He hadn’t told me the whole truth about why he was so dead set against finding a real queen, or why he needed me.

As the bathwater started to cool, I rose from the tub. Pulling a towel off the counter, I quickly dried my hair and dressed in a pair of leather pants and a deep gray shirt, the material soft as cashmere. Soon, I’d be dressed in a gown of some kind for the Tournament Declaration, when Torin would announce me as his chosen wife.

I crossed into Shalini’s room.

As usual, she was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a book in her lap, and she nodded at a box next to her. “Someone dropped this off for you. Sent by the king himself.” She frowned at me. “So, what happens when you’re queen?”

“I sit on the throne for a few months, and I make spring return. I hope people will be bringing me books and food because it sounds a bit boring.”

I lifted the top off the box. Inside was a note on top of a green gown, the color of spring.

Please throw this in the fire after you read it.

You will be our next queen.

I saw what you did today. Most wouldn’t have noticed, but I did. You allowed Eliza to strike you so she could leave the tournament with her head held high. I commend your sense of mercy.

But I must remind you, Ava, that I will keep my distance. And you must not come too close to me ever again.