Chapter 11

I turn and stride away, tossing the goblet over my shoulder, terribly pleased at the clang it makes in the dead silence that I leave behind me. Glancing down at my side, though, I startle a little when I realize that Anton’s not there.

“Hey!” I hiss, turning to see him a few steps behind, looking back at Orion. “Come on!”

Anton turns back to me and trots back to my side, keeping pace with me as I continue my journey back to the center of the palace and then towards the main door. He gives a little whine, trying again to dodge in front of me to stop me, but I just keep going.

Unfortunately, when I reach the main door, my hooded messenger appears before me, his arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word – just shakes his head.

“You know,” I sigh, putting my hands on my hips, “I like you less and less the more I get to know you.”

He just smirks and stands stoic, blocking the exit.

I sigh and move to the wall next to him, leaning back against the obsidian and considering whether I want to just slump all the way down to the floor to wait this out. But then I look down at my dress and bite my lip because…well, I hate everything else in this stupid underworld, but the dress I like.

“You should try, your highness,” the messenger says, glancing at me as Anton slumps at my feet, laying himself out against the cold marble, clearly giving up for both of us. “The consequences of being cut from the competition are…dire.”

“I did try,” I say, my voice tired. “I just find it very difficult to talk to men whose conversation makes me consider pulling my nails out at the root as a fun alternative.” I curl my fingers into claws, looking down at my nails themselves, wishing they were painted black and pointy to reflect my mood.

The three of us sit in silence for a long few moments before the messenger surprises me by huffing a short sigh. I look up at him to find his hooded head turned towards me.

“You should go easier on the prince,” he murmurs. “He is…not without his own challenges in this world, this life.”

“Is that an excuse for being a dumb idiot jackass who can’t get a date?” I snap, still angry at this whole situation and wanting to be mean, wanting to continue hating him.

To my surprise, the messenger laughs again, genuinely this time. “Orion’s not stupid. He’s just under unique restraints. Honestly, highness, I’m not supposed to say this but…” he turns fully to me now. “You should try again, perhaps with more empathy for him.”

“Empathy,” I whisper, peering up at him. “And where is his empathy for me? For all of us?”

“If you took the time to ask,” the messenger says, leaning closer. “You would find that there is a great well of it there.”

I stare at the messenger, guilt suddenly flashing through me at the realization that I never did ask why Orion is doing this, even if his father set it up and continually refers to it as “his” game. Why would Orion agree to such a ridiculous proposition? Obviously, a man who looks like that, with power and lineage to boot, isn’t actually going to have any trouble finding a bride.

So why the hell are we all here?

I straighten up from the wall, smoothing my hands over my skirts, my curiosity getting the better of my temper. But before I go off investigating, I turn my eyes back to my messenger. “What’s your name?”

He turns to me, pursing his lips. “You don’t need to know that.”

“Well, I can’t keep calling you ‘the messenger’ and ‘that spooky guy.’ So?”

He smirks a little, I think despite himself. “Keep calling me that?”

I blink innocently at him, gesturing to Anton. “I had to explain to the wolf.”

He laughs, turning away. “My name is Nicodemus.”

I stare at him for a second before a smile spreads across my face. “That’s a mouthful. Can I call you Nicky?”

He turns his head to me, and even if I can’t see his eyes I know there’s a glare beneath that hood. “No.”

“Nic?”

He pauses for a second. “Fine.”

I grin at him. “Okay, Nic. I’ll see you in a bit.”

I step away and Anton scrambles to his feet, peering up at me in surprise. “What?” I murmur, shrugging and looking down at him. “He had a good point. I want to know why the hell Orion is even doing this.”

Supportive and encouraged, Anton moves with me through the room as I peer around, looking for Orion’s dark head. I see him almost immediately, towering as he does over most of the women here, and I head towards the group of about eight women flocking around him, each doing their best – I’m sure – to be noticed so they don’t get cut.

I straighten my shoulders, feeling quite bold as I stride forward, ready to interrupt –

But suddenly the same gong rings out in the room and my mouth falls open.

An hour, really?

That fast?

I look down to see Anton staring up at me as well in surprise and I consider again that time may move differently here.

Everyone in the room falls silent, awkwardly looking around at each other and not knowing what to do. Orion gives the women in the group with him a short bow before turning and taking the broad steps down into the pit to stand at his father’s side.

The women all begin to take the spots which they were standing in earlier, so I do the same, watching as the Prince of Hell and the God of Death put their heads together below us, deciding our fates.

I glance down at Anton as we take our spot, grimacing a little. “I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it as I drift the fingers of my right hand over his fur. “If I screwed this up for us. For you. I lose my temper sometimes and…” I sigh, disappointed in myself. “Mom said it gets the best of me and I need to learn to manage it better. Again, she’s right.”

Anton moves closer to me in a way that would have his body pressed warm and supportive against my leg if he had a body. But I smile at the gesture, looking down at him, thinking that he really is a very pretty wolf. And already a good friend.

“Thank you, esteemed contestants,” the God of Darkness says, snapping all of our attentions immediately to him. “My son has made his choice.”

Orion steps forward, his hands folded seriously behind his back, and looks around at us. “I have had the opportunity to speak, however briefly, with each of you. I regret that I must make a decision within so short a timeframe. I very much hope to become better acquainted with the nineteen of you who survive.”

My mouth goes a little dry at his words. Survive? I mean, I had wondered, but to have it so starkly confirmed…

“You are all very beautiful and charming,” Orion continues, looking around at us as my heart begins to pound. Because surely, surely none of the other women were stupid enough to be as rude to him as I was tonight.

Oh my god. Am I about to die?

Anton whines and looks up at me, terribly afraid.

“However,” Orion continues, “I find that I need a woman with a great deal of spirit who can weather the trials in her future position as Queen of the underworld. And while I hope that some of you will learn better manners –“

He flicks his eyes deliberately to me here, making my heart nearly stop.

“The woman I am eliminating tonight is, I think, too delicate for the task of ruling the Underworld by my side.”

W-what?

I nearly pant with anxiety, looking around the room – because those words, they don’t match me – tonight I was anything but delicate – how could he –

“Anna,” he says, pointing a single finger at the woman I noticed the moment I walked in the room, pale and ethereal, her silver hair cascading soft around her shoulders. “I am sorry, my dear. But you are eliminated from the competition.”

She gasps, pressing her pale hands to her lips, shaking her head vehemently. “No,” she whispers. “Please, please –“

But there’s no time.

A great screeching fills the room and I gasp, falling back a step when dark shadows descend from the ceiling, wailing horribly and descending on the eliminated contestant.