67

This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be how the Choice was ending. Not like this—not with Griffin here. Everything was going wrong, everything, all at once. I pulled out of his grip and ran through the side door, leaving the king alone in the throne room behind me. I didn’t want anything to do with him; I didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to hear his voice or feel his touch. I ran through the halls alone, avoiding the curious looks of the servants and guards as I tried to keep my face impassive despite the hot prickle of tears threatening behind my eyes.

I made it to my quarters, thankfully not pursued by the king or any of his guards. Amity and Rue met me in the hallway and guided me into my room, wearing matched expressions of concern as they ushered me inside.

As soon as the door closed behind me, I leaned back against it and buried my face in my hands again.

“Oh, milady,” Amity said gently.

Of course, they knew what had happened—the arrival of the Daybreak soldiers in Efra had caused a commotion across the entire city. Everyone had to know. Somehow, that made it worse. The challenge would just be another spectacle for the people of Efra, like my own fight with the king had been. Except this battle would be worse. It would be serious.

“Don’t,” I said. “Please, I just—I just need to think.”

They nodded. Rue hurried into the bathroom to run the bath, then Amity walked me in afterward. She helped me out of my wrinkled dress. It felt so different than it had putting it on. I’d been anticipatory, nervous, feeling out-of-depth in a sleek, gorgeous gown. Peeling it off, I felt nothing but misery. Amity bundled me into a plush robe and sat me down at the vanity, then began to brush my blonde hair, working out the tangles that had formed over the time I’d spent with the king. It was already so late, and exhaustion pressed on me like a weight. I was grateful for the silence of my handmaidens. They seemed to know as well as I did there was nothing that could be done. “You can both go,” I said once the bath was prepared, fragrant and inviting.

“You’re sure?” Rue asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I just need some time alone.”

The girls nodded and left me in the bathroom; the door to my quarters clicked closed behind them. I sighed then stepped out of my robe and tied my hair into a bun atop my head. Only after soaking in the hot water did I realize how stressed I was—how tension coiled my muscles tight and made my breath come shallow. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back against the rim of the tub. One long inhale. One long exhale.

Then the tears started to flow.

I was so overwhelmed. So confused. Just hours before I’d been in the king’s bed, wrapped up in him, lost in the magic of his touch and his kiss. My wolf had believed him when he’d said we could live however briefly in a world without politics. Where he wasn’t the king. But that wasn’t possible —he’d made that clear. He didn’t care about me. He was willing to sacrifice Griffin to prove it.

Griffin was a fool for coming here—but the king was being outright cruel.

Cruel. That was how he got the throne, that was how he ran the Choice, and that was how he was going to prove his dominance to Griffin. It was pointless. It was peacocking. And I wasn’t going to let it happen. I wasn’t going to let this challenge stand.

I rinsed my face in the warm water of the bath, washing the tears from my face. Wallowing would get me nowhere.

Then a brisk knock sounded at the door. It was so late it was nearly morning. I hoped it was one of the maidservants, back with a cup of tea, or something sweet to soothe my pain a bit before I tried to catch a few hours of sleep. I stepped out of the bath and pulled my robe back around me, then padded to the door.

When I opened it, though, it wasn’t my maidservants across on the other side of the threshold. It was the king—looking just as tired as I felt, with a concerned pinch in his brow. Different than the angry, cocky king I’d dealt with before. More like the man I’d been with in his quarters. My wolf warmed immediately to his presence but I was still cold. Just because he looked worried about me now didn’t change anything about the decisions he’d made.

He reached for me, and I took a step back. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “I—I thought I made it clear I don’t want to see you.”

His dark eyes tracked over my body like a touch. I tugged my robe closed tighter, ignoring the rush of warmth that ran through me. With the space between us, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. I wrapped my arms protectively around myself.

“You should leave,” I said.

“I needed to see you,” he said. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“You couldn’t sleep?” I scoffed. “This is your fault.”

“I meant what I said,” the king said. “You are the winner of the Choice. You will be my queen.

After tonight, how could I think otherwise? I know you felt the connection between us, too.”

Connection. That was one way of putting it. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, and I couldn’t help but track the motion, and the memory of that mouth on me.

“That doesn’t matter,” I said. “I could never be queen to a king so callous. So thoughtless.” “You think I have been thoughtless throughout this Choice?” He narrowed his eyes.

“I think you have been thoughtless in accepting this challenge,” I snapped.

“All I did was accept,” he said. Again a mix of interest and amusement flashed in his eyes.

“Shouldn’t the blame rest on the man who offered the challenge in the first place?”