Page 86 of Empire of Flame and Thorns

Shoving to his feet, he kicks his chair out of the way and then stalks out of the dining room without another word.

I watch his retreating back while a sense of loss spreads through my chest.

All throughout the dining room, that tense atmosphere returns with a vengeance. Everyone glances around, their eyes now full of suspicion again, as we’re all reminded of the merciless fact that there can only be three winners. We’re not a team. We’re not friends. We’re contestants fighting for the same chance to make our own dreams come true. At the expense of everyone else’s.

We might all hate the dragon shifters together, but we are still in this tournament alone.

I heave a sigh.

Enemies by necessity.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Tilting my head back, I stare at the wall of trees that rise up before me. A sense of foreboding spreads through my chest like cold poison. I swallow. Don’t tell me that we’re actually going in there?

“Welcome to the fourth and final trial,” Imar calls across the grass.

Winds rush across the fields, snatching at my hair and clothes. I swallow and tear my gaze from the forest ahead before sliding it towards the cause for the sudden strong winds.

Ten dragons circle us from above. The air from their beating wings makes my hair whip across my face. Reaching up, I push it back so that I can see properly. Sunlight reflects against silver scales as the Icehearts cut downwards.

Gasps rip from two of the other contestants as the massive silver dragons fly so close to us that the tips of their wings almost slash across our faces. I flinch. As do most of the others. Only Lavendera remains completely motionless at the end of our straight row.

Glancing towards her, I briefly wonder if the Icehearts did something similar during the last trial and if that is how she ended up with that scar across her cheek and jaw.

The back of my neck prickles.

I don’t even need to turn around to know that it’s Draven who has flown up behind our backs. His imposing black dragon form looms behind, blocking out the sun and casting the grass around us in ominous darkness. My breath catches in my throat, and for one second, I’m convinced that he’s going to open his jaws and burn us all to ash. A shiver rolls down my spine. I suddenly understand exactly how he earned the nicknamethe Shadow of Death.

We stagger forward a little from the forceful winds as he beats his wings right behind our backs. Then he sweeps around us towards where the Icehearts are. The other seven clan leaders follow.

Booming sounds echo across the landscape as the ten dragons slam down on the grass. Black smoke explodes through the air. Then the shifters stride towards us. The seven clan leaders are in their human form, while both the Iceheart monarchs and Draven performed a half-shift. Sunlight glints against two pairs of silver wings and is swallowed by a pair of black wings.

I discreetly study Draven’s face, trying to read his mood.

Only his customary expression of ruthless power meets me.

My heart patters against my ribs. He still hasn’t retaliated from when I handcuffed him to his desk, and I can’t help but wonder if that is because he’s gearing up for something massive during the final trial today.

A ripple of apprehension mixed with nervous excitement courses through our now small row of contestants as Jessina and Bane come to a halt on the grass right in front of us. As usual, Draven takes up position on their right, two steps behind, while the rest of the clan leaders form a row behind them.

“During the Age of Strife,” Empress Jessina says, using the name that the shifters have for the historical period when faewere dragon riders, “you proved that you are a wicked and untrustworthy race. After we liberated ourselves from the bonds of servitude, we knew that we had to protect the rest of the world from people like you.”

I clench my jaw and squeeze my hand into a fist.

“So we raised this grand forest.” She sweeps a hand out to motion at the twisting forest of trees and thorns behind her. “And it has protected the world from your cruelty ever since.”

From the corner of my eye, I can see Alistair squeeze his hand into a fist as well.

“Now,” Emperor Bane picks up. “To atone for that past cruelty and to prove that you are worthy of redemption, it is only fitting that you must face the forest in your final trial.”

Another ripple of apprehension courses through me. Very few people who go into the forest ever return.

I flick a glance towards the twisting trees. Then my gaze darts over to Draven for a second.

I expect him to glare at me or shoot me threatening stares or something. But he doesn’t look at me at all. In fact, he hasn’t looked at me even once since he landed on the grass. As if we’re suddenly complete strangers again who have never interacted before. As if he didn’t lock me up in his room a few days ago. As if we didn’t share the same bed. As if he didn’t pin me to his wall and drove me to the brink of an orgasm with just his fingers. As if that furious kiss never happened. As if I never handcuffed him to his desk.

For a moment, I feel an absolutely pathetic sense of disappointment.

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