Chapter 9

The Prince of Hell’s smirk deepens when he sees my bared teeth, but he quickly turns his head back to his father as the God of Death begins to speak again.

“Let me begin,” the God of Death says, folding his hands neatly behind his back, “by letting you know that the first trial has already begun.” He waves a hand, encompassing all of us. “In twenty weeks my son will choose one of you to be his eternal bride – a position of great honor that comes with the title of Princess of the Underworld. When my son succeeds me as King of this great land, you will be his Queen.”

I look around at the women standing with me, encircling this suitor, this apparent prize. Some of them preen excitedly at the prospect, but my stomach just turns. It’s not that I don’t understand the appeal of the Princess lifestyle – if you’re that sort of girl, like my sister is, it’s a great life.

It’s just…absolutely the opposite of what I want. And the idea of getting a second Princess title to go with my first?

No, this aspect of the prize holds absolutely no charms for me.

“In addition,” the God of Death says, “as stipulated in your agreement, the marriage gift presented to my daughter-in-law will be a single Eternal Wish – with all of the stipulations and provisos generally applied to such magical elements.”

Stipulations? My wolf asks, tilting her head, curious and anxious. Like what?

But I brush a hand over her dark fur, shushing her, wanting to listen instead of getting lost in what will surely be an endless list of questions if I allow myself to get started.

“We have been watching you,” the older man before me continues, a smile now curving across his face, dark and pleased, “as you each entered in your beautiful finery – and I will say that any efforts made towards a positive first impression will be to your benefit. For one of you will be eliminated tonight.”

Shock pulses through me, chased again by anger. Tonight – seriously!? After he’s had what, ten seconds to look at us!? I clench my teeth as I realize that this is, essentially, a meat market. That this stupid jerk Prince just gets to look around at us and whichever one he finds least appealing is what, just gone?

And gone…gone where?

My wolf doesn’t allow me time for fear, her hackles raising as we feel our temper begin to slip.

“You will have some time for conversation first,” the God of Death says with a little shrug. “Cocktails will be served. One hour – no more. I suggest,” another dark smirk here as he casts his eyes again over the lot of us, “that you make good use of your time.”

A gong rings out in the room, apparently signaling the start of that hour.

There’s a moment while we all stand perfectly still, just staring at the men before us, before the room bursts into movement. Women begin to stride forward towards our prize, eager to make positive first impressions, to not get eliminated tonight.

But I just turn on my heel, beginning to stalk away, too pissed off to even think straight, let alone to preen and simper and try to catch Prince Orion’s eye.

Anton gives a worried yelp at the spot where I’ve left him before he chases after me. He does his best to dissuade me from my path away from the action, running in front of me and nipping at my ankles like a sheepdog. But I just rush through his gossamer form at every pass, striding for a dark archway that I see built into the wall, my hands clenched to fists.

When I storm into the little hall and push through the door at the end, Anton at my heels, I’m relieved to see that it’s a wide bathroom with stalls in the back and an ornate gilt mirror over the sinks. And, more importantly, that it’s completely empty.

I pace inside, trying to collect my thoughts, but I’m just way too angry right now to think of anything besides a thousand ways to tear Orion, Prince of Hell, into a teeny tiny pieces.

Let me, my wolf snarls, eager. I can use my teeth and my claws –

“Juniper!” Anton barks out, shifting immediately into his human body. “For the second time in about ten minutes, what the hell is wrong with you!?”

“I’m not marrying that asshole,” I snap, glaring at the door over Anton’s shoulder – or through it, more accurately.

“You have got to go back in there!”

“No!” I shout, shifting my gaze to him. “That rat is the worst scum on the planet – on this stupid planet and ours. I’d rather die than marry him – I’m going to kick him off a bridge and eat popcorn while I watch him drown – I’m –“

“June!” Anton barks, stepping forward and trying to grab me by the shoulders, probably trying to give me a shake and snap me out of this rage. “What the hell has gotten into you!? I thought you didn’t know this guy!”

I snarl a little, embarrassment mixing with my anger a little as I realize that I have to tell Anton now how incredibly foolish I was last night. God, but these past twenty-four hours have done nothing but prove to me how incredibly naïve I am.

“Juniper,” he says, softer now, searching my face. “Please, what the hell is going on?”

I scowl, looking down at the floor, and quickly explain everything about being “permitted” to go down to the bar last night – which I now realize was a ruse, since it was planned all along – and being served too-strong alcohol, confessing my entire life and doubts about competing for the hand of the Prince of Hell to the damn prize himself.

Anton’s mouth falls open as I speak but I notice when he begins to lose his temper too, dropping his hands from my shoulders and looking aside, his lips twisted as he slips his hands into his ghost pockets. “God damn piece of work,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “God, what a dick.”

“I know, right!?” I spit out, my anger coming back to me now that Anton has agreed that it’s justified. “There’s no way that I’m going to –“

“Oh, no,” Anton says, snapping his eyes back to me. “Juniper, you have to go back in there.”

My words stop as I stare at him. “But –“

“June, I have a really bad feeling about this,” Anton says, stepping closer to me and looking seriously down into my eyes. “And my wolf is rarely wrong about this stuff. This is not like a cute little competition because that jackass prince has trouble meeting girls or something. There is some dark shit happening here that you’ve got yourself tied up into. You cannot lose this.”

“But –“

“You said you’d rather die than marry him,” Anton says, stepping closer so that I have to tilt my head back to look up at him. “Were you serious about that?”

Slowly I shut my mouth because mad as I am, I know I’m not ready to die.

“Juniper, this guy is clearly crafty, we have got to –“

But before Anton can finish, the door behind him swings open. In a flash Anton shifts back into his wolf, turning towards the door so that he, too, can peer at the two young women standing there.

“Um,” the sinfully gorgeous, mostly-naked woman I noticed before says, smirking at me and looking me up and down like I’m a wet puppy – pathetic and a little cute, but certainly not a threat. “Who are you talking to?”

I scrabble for an answer but come up with nothing. “No one,” I say, attempting for a casual shrug and failing. “Just…myself.”

Another woman with long blonde hair peers out from behind the first, smirking at me, her sparkling green eyes crinkling with mirth at my expense. “That is…I mean, that’s really sad. You know there’s a hot rich prince out there, right? And you come in here to like…give yourself a pep talk? Oh, sweetie.” She presses a hand to her heart. “Why don’t you just…drop out now? Let us real women take the lead here.”

My teeth again flash as I glare between both of these cruel women, my competition.