“Yield,” I commanded. “Kneel to me and submit.”
“I yield!” he blurted out. He scrambled forward to kneel at my feet. “I am your loyal servant.”
“Swear to me that if I let you walk away from this arena, you will never take an innocent life ever again.”
He took my hands and kissed them. “Never, Your Majesty, I swear it.”
I wrinkled my nose and tugged my hands away. Rhon collapsed to the ground with a moan of relief. I stepped back and raised my voice so the audience could hear my words.
“The true measure of strength is not in the lives we take, but in the lives we save. Rhon Ghislaine, I spare your life today. Take your second chance and use it wisely—do not make me regret my mercy.”
Boos and unhappy mutters rose from the crowd as I denied them the murder they had come here to see. I turned my back to Rhon, then set off toward the stairs, where Luther was waiting for me at the base.
When my eyes met his, I expected to see relief, or amusement, or perhaps a smug I-told-you-so.
What I saw was so much more.
Luther gazed at me like I was the embodiment of hope fulfilled. Like I was the answer to every question he had ever asked, the harmony to every song he’d ever sung. He looked at me like I was the sun and the moon and the stars, all the light in the world, shining a path for him out of the lonely dark.
He had believed in me from the very start. Not only because of my magic, but because of my heart—who I was, my courage and my compassion, and my willingness to fight.
If Luther was right about what I was meant to do, then today was only the beginning of the challenges we would face. But today we had won. And if we ever hoped to survive this with our souls intact, we would have to celebrate every victory we could get.
I beamed back at him and let my shoulders relax as weeks of tension washed away. Pride, so much pride, emanated from his features. Just as he had in the vision, he pressed his palm to his chest.
I raised my hand to do the same, but Luther’s expression shifted as his eyes darted over my shoulder. His nostrils flared, his muscles pulling tight.
“One last thing, Your Majesty,” Rhon’s voice called out from behind me.
I spun on my heel to see him barely three feet away, hands clasped behind his back in submission. He nodded his head low and looked up at me through his long, golden lashes.
“Yes?” I asked.
He cocked his head. “The Challenging isn’t over until one of us dies.”
Rhon pushed off his heel and launched into the air, one arm coming around his back clutching a slim, glittering black knife and thrusting straight for the center of my chest.
I had no time to react. Before I even realized what was happening, the point of his blade had already pierced the fabric of my suit and scraped my skin.
But I didn’t need time.
I needed only the whisper of a thought—and then, with a flash of silver light, he was gone. Where a man once stood, there was now a cloud of ash and the faint smell of burnt flesh.
The crowd sat in shocked silence as they—and I—made sense of what had just occurred. Then, slowly, the applause began, then whoops and hollers of approval, growing to a deafening, jubilant roar.
Finally, they had their pound of flesh, and they celebrated it with delight.
The sound of it ignited my fury.
I had tried to show mercy. I had offered them peace, something beautiful and human, a chance at a better world, and they had turned up their noses.
Fine.
If I could not persuade them with peace, then I would do it with fear.
I spread my arms in an arc at my sides. A deluge of shadows surged around me, coating the sandy floor with a sea of midnight ink that churned in a raging whirlpool at my feet. Thorny black vines crept up the walls of the arena, then moved higher, their spiked ends tapping ominously against the protective barrier.
An orb of shimmering light formed around me and lifted me on a cushion of air until I hovered high above the ground. Glowing stars swarmed like fireflies, and from my outstretched fingers, jagged bolts of lightning sparked and formed a blinding web of sizzling pale blue.
The audience cowered as my magic thrashed against the invisible wall that protected them from me. Then their terrified faces turned up to something even more alarming.
High above the amphitheater, the sunlit sky began to fade away. There were no clouds in sight, but the sky darkened nevertheless, fading in seconds to pitch-black night.
My skin illuminated with a radiant, moonlight sheen, my hair floating weightlessly around me as I scanned the crowd. Some were frozen in their seats, while others panicked and scrambled for the exits.
I closed my eyes and reached out for the Forging magic that flowed through the soil of the realm. I felt it thrumming all around me, running from border to border and buzzing brightly with all the life that it touched. I allowed my own magic to pour into it until the two energies merged and became one. There was no longer a realm and her Queen, but one single devastating force of nature.
With a snap of my fingers, the protective barrier fell. The invisible wall shattered into a cloud of glowing slivers that swirled and scattered on a sudden updraft of wind.
In the stands, the spectators fought each other to get away, some going so far as to turn their weapons on members of their own House to beat a path to safety.
That simply would not do.
I jerked my wrists, and the vines coating the arena walls multiplied. Thousands of tendrils whipped out and wrapped around the throats of every Descended in the amphitheater, forcing them to still.
“Your Queen has not dismissed you,” I scolded. My voice sounded different to my own ears. It was cold and ancient, deeply powerful, the timbre of some far more fearsome creature.
“The Challenging is not over until you have judged me and found me worthy,” I continued, spitting out the last word with disgust. “If there are any who believe my choice of Challenger was insufficient, or who doubt whether I am strong enough to rule… speak now. I will not give you a second chance.”
My eyes roved over the crowd until they paused on Jean Hanoverre. I crooked a finger, and the vine at his neck pulled taut, nearly yanking him from his seat.
“Well, Jean?” I purred. “Tell me, has my magic satisfied you?”
He clawed at the dark cord at his throat. I squeezed it tighter until he was gasping for breath. He quickly nodded.
I hummed in mock consideration. “Perhaps I should kill every Challenger to ensure there is no doubt I could have outmatched any of them. Do you think that’s necessary, Jean?”
“No,” he choked out.
“No, what?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
My gaze trailed to his grandmother, Marthe. “Will House Hanoverre kneel to its Queen?”
She eyed me with cold consideration, a gleam of defiance still burning in her gaze. I had to respect her tenacity.
“House Hanoverre will kneel, Your Majesty,” she said finally.
“House Benette?” I called out with a glare toward Evrim.
Wisely, he wasted no time in dipping his chin. “House Benette will kneel, Your Majesty.”
I glanced over my shoulder to House Byrnum. I didn’t have to do more than lift an eyebrow before Ryx and Ravyn were on their knees and swearing their undying fealty.
I lowered myself to the arena floor. With a sweep of my hands, the dark, choppy sea of magic parted, opening up a path to the stairs. I strode toward them until I stood in front of Luther.