Chapter 22

“Ah, Princess Juniper Sinclair,” the God of Death says, turning his wicked grin on me. “What a pleasant surprise. Please.”

He gestures forward towards the platform and I straighten my shoulders as I walk towards it, remembering who I am - that I have every ounce of my father’s strength and my mother’s courage in my veins. Anton trots proudly at my side and while stunned whispers of “wolf” and “ghost” and “tied” echo out around us, no one makes any move to stop him.

A little regret echoes in me at that. Because honestly, I’d have liked to see them try.

But when they don’t, I simply step up onto the platform, Anton joining me there and laying down at my feet. As the platform begins to rise I consider that Anton looks quite regal and beautiful like that, all stunning blue starlight and powerful wolfish pride. I smile down at him and he glances up at me, flashing his teeth once in support.

I take a deep breath then, refocusing my eyes on Orion standing below me, the smile falling from my face.

He just looks right back at me, curious and stern, like he suspects I’m up to something.

Which, of course, I am.

When the pillar stops, I’m about eight feet in the air, glaring down hard at this Prince I’m starting to loathe. Silence reigns and I make no move. Neither does he.

Eventually, an awkward murmur breaks out in the crowd.

“Princess?” the God of Darkness says. “If you would? We wish to observe your beauty, as is part of the Trial.”

Slowly I lift my head and give the God of Darkness my most regal smile. “Of course.”

Then I lift my hands to my shoulders and push my cloak back as Alexandrica did, letting it puddle to the floor around me.

A gasp ripples through the crowd followed by a fervid murmuration of whispers as I stand before the God of Darkness, his handsome Prince, and all the Courtiers of the Underworld absolutely covered in black fabric from my high-necked black top all the way down to my feet, tucked away in pointy black boots.

The shirt is tight all the way to my wrists and demure black gloves cover my hands. Even black tights cover my legs beneath the ankle-length black silk skirt which buttons tight at my small waist.

The entire effect, as Anton and I decided in my room, is a very demure and elegant fuck-you to everything this Trial asks for.

And, obviously, an incredible risk.

“You, Princess,” the God of Darkness growls, glaring at me from his spot in the stone gazebo above, “are on very dangerous grounds. I would suggest that you disrobe at once.”

“I have no intention of doing any such thing,” I say, my voice ringing out loud and clear as I look up at the God and then around at the stunned crowd. I tilt my head, aware that my shining rose-gold crown glints prettily in the light, and look down at Orion. “That wouldn’t be very queenly of me, would it?”

“You make a mockery of this trial, Juniper Sinclair,” Orion growls, his canines now as sharp as mine. “You are at risk of rejection. And elimination.”

“Rejection?” I ask, leaning forward at the waist to more fully hold his gaze. “Fine. In return, I categorically reject every ounce of this Trial and everything it stands for. Honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself for asking this of your Contestants, Prince. What kind of King would ask his Queen to bare herself before the people she is to one day rule?”

“A King who has no secrets,” Orion growls, stepping forward like he wants to leap up onto this pillar and rip me down.

“No,” I snarl, going to one knee on the pillar to more fully lean over the edge as I bare my teeth at him, daring him to try, “the true answer is a King who wishes to embarrass and disempower his bride from the very start, so she can never be his equal, never command as much respect as him.”

“You speak out of turn,” he snarls. “You completely misunderstand –“

“If I misunderstand,” I interrupt, “then why aren’t you up here naked? Come on, ‘Ri,” I say, smirking now. “You’re a good looking guy. I’m sure all of us Contestants would like to check out the goods we’ve signed up for, just as you’re doing today.”

His mouth falls open and he stills a little at my gall.

My smile just grows as I shake my head at him. “Isn’t that what’s at the heart of all of this, Prince?” I say, my voice lowering now, because I no longer care if anyone in that crowd can here us. This is between him and me. “Your rash assumption that all of us are here because we actually want to marry you, even though I – for one – had no chance at all to learn whose hand I was competing for before I was tricked into agreeing to this whole ridiculous game?”

The pillar starts to lower, someone in charge of the hydraulics clearly figuring out that keeping me up here only gives me more of a platform for defiance. Soon my eyes are level with Orion’s, and as the pillar sinks lower I begin to stand so that I hold his gaze on an equal level during my descent.

“You’re putting us up here naked to embarrass us, to make us feel small and know our place in your world,” I say, my voice full of cold, hard rage. “This whole competition is doing that – making us beg for your attention, your favor, your hand.”

Even when the pillar lowers to the ground and leaves me a good foot smaller than Orion – at least – I still manage to look down my nose at him, even as I tilt my head back to do it.

I step forward, so close I can feel the warmth of him radiating between us, feel him vibrating with rage.

“You want me to beg, Orion?” I ask, my voice a purr. “Want me to get on my knees and crawl for you?” I laugh a little, one corner of my mouth quirking up as I turn away. “Then show me something worth begging for. Because a man pathetic enough to try to shame his mate into submission? I wouldn’t let him lick my boot, let alone share my bed.”

I walk away, my chin held high, my starlit wolf just a stride behind, his chest rumbling with his fury and his pride.

The crowd parts before us, shocked and breathless, as I make my way back towards the path, towards the place where Nic brought me at the start, where I hope I can call him and go back to my rooms.

But before I fully leave the party behind, a voice echoes out behind me. A voice that I’m growing to love, belonging to a very sweet girl who I’ve begun to call my friend.

“Please.”

I turn in shock to see Laila stepping forward.

Her whole body shakes as she stands only a foot into the circle of Contestants, making no move towards the podium.

She lifts her chin and clears her throat.

“I, too, wish to decline further participation in this Trial,” she says, her voice high and tight. But the flashing light in her eyes, the dignity and the courage –

God, but it makes my heart swell with pride.