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Griffin glared at him, then returned his attention to me. He lunged again, but the guards stopped him, looking just as bored as the king did.
“He doesn’t care about you,” he said. “And you don’t care about being queen. What happened to us?”
“This isn’t about us,” I said. “Griffin, this isn’t—this isn’t about honor. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.”
His face fell, briefly devastated, and then turned back with thunderous anger onto the king. We knew each other well enough that I didn’t have to say what I was afraid of. Griffin knew I wasn’t worried about the king. I was worried about him. And that only made him angrier. Now, red-faced and eyes flashing, he had something to prove.
“Elias of Nightfall, King of Frasia!” Griffin bellowed. “I challenge you to battle for the right to the throne!” His challenge echoed through the throne room, fading into a chilly silence.
Again, the king smiled. It was a slow, deliberate smile, predatory, revealing his canines. An icy feeling of terror trickled down my spine.
“Griffin of Daybreak,” the king said, “I accept your challenge.”
19
The Nightfall guards surrounded Griffin and his two Daybreak escorts from all sides and corralled him back toward the doors of the throne room. He walked backward, his eyes fixed on me. They still burned that deep clay-red with the promise of the animal under the surface. I’d never seen his wolf this close for this long.
“I’m getting you out of here, Reyna,” he called. “We’ll be together again soon.”
“Oh, Griffin,” I said quietly. “Griffin, you fool.”
The doors clattered closed, and that same chilly silence fell over the room. From his seat, where he was still sprawled lazily, the king brandished his hand in a clear dismissal. The guards turned and filed from the room.
I pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes. I couldn’t believe this—a challenge. My Griffin, challenging the Bloody King for the throne. The king who’d earned this throne through violence. Griffin was never a wolf like that—he was soft-spoken and thoughtful, more interested in the games at Marco’s Pub than training on the battlefield. We were supposed to travel together, explore, document. Not fight. Not get sucked into the pack politics that had already dominated our lives. And Griffin was about to sacrifice that future together because he didn’t trust me to handle things on my own.
I swallowed and turned to leave through the same narrow door the guard had escorted me through. I needed to be back in my quarters. I needed time alone.
Before I could take a step, a strong, callused hand caught my arm. I whirled around, anger burning in me. “How could you do that?” I smacked his broad chest ineffectively. He didn’t even move. “Why would you agree to that challenge? You could’ve just sent him away!”
“Because you are a wolf of Nightfall, now,” the king said, “regardless of what life you led in Daybreak. That life is over now.”
“’That’ life? That life is my life,” I shot back. “Does that mean nothing to you? Am I just another possession of yours, a decoration in your court?”
“You’re much more than a possession,” he said. He smoothed his hand up my upper arm to the joining of my neck and shoulder, his touch firm and warm. Despite the anger still coursing through me, my wolf wanted to lean into the touch. The whiplash was exhausting. “You’re my queen.”
“If you go through with this,” I said, “I will never be your queen. Never. I swear it.”
The king chuckled low, like my anger amused him. “You can swear all you want, little wolf. But the Choice has come to a close. And I chose you.”
This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be how the Choice was ending. Not like this—not with Griffin here. Everything was going wrong, everything, all at once. I pulled out of his grip and ran through the side door, leaving the king alone in the throne room behind me. I didn’t want anything to do with him; I didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to hear his voice or feel his touch. I ran through the halls alone, avoiding the curious looks of the servants and guards as I tried to keep my face impassive despite the hot prickle of tears threatening behind my eyes.
I made it to my quarters, thankfully not pursued by the king or any of his guards. Amity and Rue met me in the hallway and guided me into my room, wearing matched expressions of concern as they ushered me inside.
As soon as the door closed behind me, I leaned back against it and buried my face in my hands again.
“Oh, milady,” Amity said gently.
Of course, they knew what had happened—the arrival of the Daybreak soldiers in Efra had caused a commotion across the entire city. Everyone had to know. Somehow, that made it worse. The challenge would just be another spectacle for the people of Efra, like my own fight with the king had been. Except this battle would be worse. It would be serious.
“Don’t,” I said. “Please, I just—I just need to think.”
They nodded. Rue hurried into the bathroom to run the bath, then Amity walked me in afterward. She helped me out of my wrinkled dress. It felt so different than it had putting it on. I’d been anticipatory, nervous, feeling out-of-depth in a sleek, gorgeous gown. Peeling it off, I felt nothing but misery. Amity bundled me into a plush robe and sat me down at the vanity, then began to brush my blonde hair, working out the tangles that had formed over the time I’d spent with the king. It was already so late, and exhaustion pressed on me like a weight. I was grateful for the silence of my handmaidens. They seemed to know as well as I did there was nothing that could be done.
“You can both go,” I said once the bath was prepared, fragrant and inviting.
“You’re sure?” Rue asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I just need some time alone.”
