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When he calls Reina up next, my body becomes a live wire of adrenaline. Reina’s eyes are locked onto mine as she moves into position across from me. Eclipsa fits her with a vest. Twin fish-braids carve down either side of Reina’s head. A few dots of old blood stain the strips over her nose.
Someone came to play.
“Summer,” the Winter Prince calls, and I glance over my shoulder at him, just in time to spot the baton he tossed—hurtling end over end at my face.
On instinct, my hand flies up, and, for once, my fingers aren’t clumsy as they flex around the cold bar and I manage to catch it.
Yes!
I’m incredibly pleased with myself . . . until Eclipsa tosses a baton to Reina, who snags it without breaking eye contact with me. Inara grins behind her.
Crap.
Cold sweat crops on my temples as I take in her predatory stance—legs spread, one leg forward like she’s ready to pounce—and the lethal gleam in her dark eyes. Mack said all the other shadows have trained in mixed martial arts their entire life in preparation for the academy.
I caught her by surprise the other day. That won’t happen again.
The Winter Prince crosses his arms over his chest and sweeps a dark gaze over both of us. “The rules are simple: if Reina touches me, she wins. If Summer touches Inara, Summer wins. Your job”—he glances at Reina before letting his icy blue eyes settle on me—“is to protect your keeper. Anyone who lights up the other’s vest three times wins by default.”
Rhaegar grunts in annoyance at the Winter Prince’s implication that I’m his shadow, but my focus doesn’t deviate from Reina. The moment I look away, she’ll strike.
We circle each other. The room goes quiet, highlighting the thrum of my heart pounding in my skull. I can’t quite catch my breath. Can’t blink for fear—
One second Reina is in front of me. The next, she’s hurtling for me at lightning speed. I throw up my baton, barely blocking the end of hers from striking the target above my heart. The impact of our batons colliding splits the air and reverberates in my forearm like electricity.
I might have knocked her baton aside, but her body keeps coming. She pivots, her shoulder slamming into my chest.
My arms spin as I fly back on my ass. The mat does little to soften the blow, pain shooting up my tailbone. With me out of the way, she lunges for the prince.
Hell, no. I pop to my feet and rush her. Seconds before she reaches the prince, I slam my baton into the red target at her neck, sending her sprawling. The red light flickers, filling me with hope that I can win.
From my periphery, I swear the prince’s eyes crinkle with amusement.
Rhaegar and Mack cheer, along with a few of the Seelie. I find myself grinning, my dry lips practically pasted to my teeth.
Reina fell to her hands and knees, but she explodes back to her feet with a grunt. When she turns around, I flinch at the fury inside her eyes. Nostrils flared, she glances over at Inara, who gives her a little nod.
Wiping her mouth, Reina stalks toward me, mouthing, you’ll pay for that, bitch.
I’m ready this time when she attacks. I might not know martial arts, but I’m fast, and I manage to dodge her advances. But each charge, she gets closer.
Meanwhile, I’m slowing down. My arms ache; my head spins wildly from the exertion.
Then her baton catches me in the mouth. My bottom lip splits open as blood splatters.
Mother trucker, it hurts.
My adrenaline turns the pain into a dull ache, and I prod the area with my tongue, ensuring I still have teeth left. After that, she catches me on the temple, knocking me dizzy. Blood drips from my forehead into my eye. My fingers and hands are next. She strikes over and over with lethal speed—too fast to be human.
Every time she makes contact with me, the crowd gasps.
The next few minutes are a blur of metal flashing and throbbing pain. She lands blows everywhere. At first, she’s not even trying to hit my targets. She’s going for my exposed flesh. My face. My head. My hands. Anywhere there’s breakable bone.
Anywhere that will cause excruciating pain.
At some point, Eclipsa begins to rush over, but the Winter Prince holds up his hand to stop her. They argue and then Eclipsa storms to the corner, arms crossed.
Is he enjoying this? Watching me slowly get beaten to a pulp? Rage and betrayal surge inside my veins, forcing me to keep going.
