Page 34 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers

If we have a chance to destroy the man standing between us and magic, then I’ll do whatever I have to do.

Resolution sparks an ember in my chest, hardening me to the facts of the path laid out before me now. As much as I want to escape, there’s every chance doing that will put both Finn and me in even more danger than if I stay here… and if I stay, I have to be willing to become who I need to be to survive not just this place but this entire mission—and the Assay itself.

There’s only one survivor of the Assay. That’s how it’s always been.

I’ll have to be every bit as ruthless, every bit as hard and cruel as the noble daughters who’ve trained their whole lives for this moment—and who will also do whatever it takes to survive.

Theremustbe a way to both win the Assay, so I can live, and not have to marry the Bloody Prince. Rules always have loopholes. I just have to find one. The Eireician nobles want a peasant queen just as much as I want that throne. Which is to say, not at all.

The night breeze washes over me, cooling my blood.

There’s no one out here. I might not be safe, but at least I’m alone. And rather than turn back for my room, I take a tentativestep forward across the dirt to where a strange tangle of thorned rosebushes clusters along the far defensive walls, then shudder at the brightness of the petals—pure white, not the crimson of the royal family.

My hands brush the cold stone of the wall on one side and the rows of bushes turning into a maze of heady sweetness on the other. The dirt beneath my toes turns to soft grass, damp with beads of night dew and mist.

Deeper and deeper I go, the quiet stillness soothing the edginess that always follows panic, until the climbing roses rise all around me.

I let out a breath and soak in the silence.

A branch somewhere near rustles, and I startle, bracing for danger.

I’m not alone.

Even dark night does nothing to dull the cold glow of his starlit skin.

The boy—man—standing in front of me is barely older than I am. His form is cut like moonstone, all hard angles and long, lean lines. Sandy hair sweeps back from the edges of his face, and dark blue eyes, made bright in starlight, hold me in place.

A shiver follows their path along my skin, and I don’t care that he sees it.

“Hello.”

His voice is light, and I don’t miss the way his fingers settle lightly on the hilt of the broadsword at his side. Impractical for most close-combat situations, Finn always says, but still highly effective on a battlefield. A short sword would be easier to wield, especially for someone without the bulk of heavy muscle, butthey also look less impressive. This sword could still slash through the space between us in a single blow. It must have cost a fortune. Just the stone set into the hilt is big enough to cup in my palm. Crimson, the color of fresh blood. The color of…

My chest tightens, ice flooding through me.

Of rubies.

He watches me in the shifting moonlight. Not quite circling, but he certainly isn’t still. Every move I make, from the twitch of my hand to the shifting of my feet in the grass, prompts some small mirror movement from him. He tilts his head slightly.

My senses scream—

This is the Bloody Prince.

Cold terror rushes through my veins. Old Ones, is this how I die?

“I didn’t think anyone else would be out at this hour.” Each of his words feels carefully weighed, as if he’s thought them through before he lets them slip from his tongue. Everything about him is too calm. Too… still.

I step back to keep a distance between us as his cool, piercing stare skates along my face, lingering on my eyes. “I… wasn’t expecting company either.”

As subtly as I can, I shift my stance to feel for the comforting weight of the blades at my side, only to remember that both are still on the table beside my bed.

A silky lock of golden hair falls into the prince’s face, and he brushes it back. “My father once told me that the only people up at this hour are adulterers and assassins.”

My heart thunders in my ears.

Running is out of the question.

If I run, he would call for the gardai.