Page 37 of Court of Lies and Deceit

“Welcome!” a female fae with long red hair suddenly calls from the platform by the wall. “Today, you will all be given a chance to be chosen for the incredible honor of competing for one of the six factions.”

A rush of excitement sweeps through the gathered teams.

“There are a few new teams this time around,” the woman continues. “You’ll figure it out. The rest of you know the drill. Get ready for inspection.” Sweeping out her arm, she motions towards six people who are standing on the platform beside her. “Faction owners, feel free to move around the arena and inspect the teams available for this round’s Great Games.”

My heart starts pattering in my chest. We need to get one of those faction owners to choose our team. If we can’t even compete, we won’t be able to win our freedom back.

Four of the six people who were standing on the platform descend the steps and start towards the closest groups. The other two, a man wearing a red tunic and a woman wearing a white dress, remain standing on the dais, just watching everyone else with smirks on their faces.

“Looks like the Red Faction and the White Faction don’t even need to think about which teams to choose,” the redheaded organizer says with a grin.

Two of the teams, one a little in front of us and to the right and the other on the far left, let out cheers and salute the two faction owners on the platform.

“Shit,” Lyra breathes. “We need to make one of them choose us. I can’t take one more day in isolation like that.” For the first time since I met her, I can hear clear dread in her voice. “Let alone several months.”

We all keep our eyes on the four faction owners who are moving across the sand, but a ripple of worry washes through our group. There are eighteen teams left and only four factions.

“Selena,” Draven says without looking at me.

“On it,” I reply.

Lowering my chin, I adjust my body language so that it looks like I’m just staring down at the sand beneath my feet because I’m nervous. But as soon as the people around us can no longer see my eyes, I summon my magic.

When the guards took us from our cells, they also removed all of our restraints, which means that I can finally access my magic again. Isera and Alistair would never be able to use theirs without attracting attention. But I most certainly can.

After a discreet glance to check where the faction owners are, I throw out my magic towards the beige sparks of uncertainty in their chests. As they study the other teams, I increase that flame to make them doubt those teams.

Three of them begin moving away from the teams they were inspecting and towards others next to them. But the fourth one, a female fae wearing black pants and a black tunic, raises her head and looks from side to side for a few seconds. Her long and straight hair is so pale blond in color that it’s practically white.

My heart leaps as she starts in our direction.

“She’s coming,” Galen whispers softly.

I make sure to keep my eyes firmly on the ground as she walks straight towards us. Releasing my grip on the uncertainty in their chests, I instead focus solely on her.

Once she reaches our group, I latch on to the burgundy spark of courage in her chest and begin increasing it. Since we’re outsiders, I need to make her feel bold and confident so that she will choose us anyway.

My heart slams against my ribs as she comes to a halt in front of Isera, who is standing on the far left of our little row. With slow steps, she begins walking the line. Alistair crosses his arms when she passes him, but thankfully says nothing.

I barely dare to breathe as she reaches me. My eyes are locked on her black shoes as she stops right in front of me.

Her hand shoots out.

I gasp as she suddenly grips my jaw and wrenches my chin up.

The moment her hand connects with my chin, I release the grip on my magic, so once my eyes are visible again, they are no longer glowing. There is no way that she had time to see it.

Her eyes, a stunning mix of pink and gold, sear into mine. Then a knowing smile as sharp as a blade spreads across her mouth.

“It’s about a hundred years too soon for you to try to manipulatemyemotions, girl,” she says.

My heart leaps into my throat. How in Mabona’s name did she have time to see that my eyes were glowing?

I stare back at her, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

She tightens her grip on my jaw, digging her fingers in more firmly.

Draven’s hand shoots up and wraps around her wrist in an iron grip. Threats drip from every word as he growls, “Take your hand off her or I’ll snap your fucking wrist.”

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