Page 49 of Fae Trials

I rubbed my eyes, which still stung. Someone in the remedial class must have run to the Fated and told them about my inability to see through glamours. It hurt, but not as much as my boyfriend’s second betrayal.

Lady Gala continued ranting at me, as though it was my fault that whatever she had planned for me had failed. I scrambled on my hands and knees, groping for something to cover my nudity, but someone had conveniently taken my clothes.

“Looking for this?” Lady Aster levitated a cloak.

“Give it to me!” I snapped.

She raised it higher. “If you want it, fly up and get it.”

I ground my teeth. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Salt!” Lady Gala’s mouth dropped open, then her face twisted into a rictus of rage. She turned to Lady Aster and snarled, “That filthy halfling’s ejaculate is probably teeming with the stuff.”

My head shook from side to side, a sequence of events rattling into place. Earlier in the evening, I made eye contact with Elijah and said out loud that I knew him, then he faked a rescue which had probably been a ride around the academy grounds on the back of a winged horse. He couldn’t perform magic, so I guessed one of the Fated had enchanted the surroundings, so that the escape looked real.

Pain lanced through my chest. Was what he said about Sicily’s location also a lie?

“You were supposed to fuck her, not cum all over her eyes,” Lady Aster snapped.

“Sorry, My Lady.” Elijah shrugged and pointed at my mouth. “She was just so skilled at sucking my cock, and with you four and the rest of the academy watching—”

“What?” I shrieked.

Applause exploded across the dining room, and flames erupted from the candles, illuminating hundreds of laughing students. Humiliation burned through my veins, searing the surface of my skin. Sweat gathered on my brow, my palms, my armpits, and despair washed over me like torrential rain.

This public display felt worse than the assassination attempts. A sob surged to the back of my throat, and tears stung my eyes, but I swallowed them down. They could trick me into taking off my clothes and trick me into sucking some asshole’s cock, but I refused to dissolve into a puddle of hysterical tears.

I sat on my ass, clutching my arms over my exposed breasts. “What was the point of this?” I snarled between clenched teeth. “The trial hasn’t even started.”

“But it has.” Lady Gala wagged her finger. “It’s two hours past midnight, which counts as the morrow.”

Bile rose to the back of my throat. I wanted to surge to my feet and spit in her eyes, but the entire academy was watching, waiting, anticipating the moment I degraded myself further.

The dining hall’s double doors slammed open, making me jolt. Prince Rory rushed in, his russet hair flying behind him. “What is the meaning of this?”

He wasn’t glowering at Lady Gala, but at me.

My mouth dropped open.

“Unity.” Lady Gala prodded me in the back. “My fated mate asked you a perfectly valid question.”

Every ounce of moisture left my throat. If this was any of the other princes, the ones who hadn’t threatened me with beheading if I didn’t go ahead with this awful tournament, I might have spilled my guts. But I couldn’t with Prince Rory.

“Speak,” he said in a voice as sharp as an executioner’s ax.

“I…” Telling him the truth would mean admitting that I had wanted to run away, and that would mean losing my head.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lady Aster sashayed to the middle of the ash-strewn pit, where I continued to sit on my ass like a used up piece of firewood.

“Explain.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“Half-bloods need to stick with their own kind.” She raised a shoulder. “They’re wanton creatures, little better than centaurs. It’s not her fault she couldn’t hold back her desires for a janitor.”

Prince Rory turned to me, his brows raised in question.

I shook my head. “Your Highness, I—”

“Unity Quayle has sullied herself,” said a voice from the double doors. I raised my head to find Prince August standing between his brothers. “She is no longer eligible for this trial.”