Bree and Rafe trained together for hours after that, and he could see her fire was burning even brighter than it ever had before. It was as if what had happened at that volcano had given her a stronger purpose, more determination, an intensity that she’d been pushing down as hard as she could.

But he also hadn’t missed that look in her eye when he’d been so tempted to kiss her. She may have given up her freedom to save his life, but she still wanted to leave this place. He couldn’t blame her, of course. Nothing had changed. Her life was still the horror it had been before their little trip to the volcano.

He wished she could be happy here. He wished she could see that her life could be a good one, if she just opened up to the idea of it.

Of course, he’d have to talk the Prince into ending this whole slave nonsense first.

“You seem to be getting a better handle on shifting back and forth between your wolf and your fae form.” Rafe couldn’t help but grin when Bree shifted one hand into a claw and then back again.

“I’ve been practicing,” she said, and he could have sworn he heard a hint of pride in her voice. “Plus, it’s like something strange unlocked in my mind at the volcano. Because I had to keep control, I did. And now I understand what that feels like. I know that sounds crazy but...”

“It does not sound crazy, Bree,” Rafe said.

She sighed and plopped onto a bench, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead. Her face was pale, and her breath ragged. Had she been training too hard? As pleased as he was to see how far she’d come, he did not wish to see her work herself into the ground.

“Have you been getting much sleep?” he asked quietly.

Bree shuddered and shook her head. “Every time I close my eyes, I see—” She cut herself off and glanced away. “I see you, Rafe. Broken and bleeding. In my dreams, I can’t save you. There’s nothing I can do but hopelessly watch you drift away from the world.”

“They are just dreams, Bree,” he said, though his heart beat a little faster at the look on her face. Did the idea of him dying truly hurt her this much? “Because you did save me. And I am standing right here in front of you.”

Bree sniffed, glanced up, and met his eyes. “You are. And I truly hope that doesn’t change for a long time to come.”

Rafe felt his body move instinctively toward her, and the desire to wrap his arms around her body was almost overwhelming. He did not know what it was about this girl, but he was completely unable to get her out of his mind. The way she smiled. The way she looked at him with that fierce fire raging in her eyes. The way she stood tall, no matter what horror came at her next.

But then he stopped when he remembered exactly where she had come from and where she wanted to go. Bree had made a wish. A wish to leave this dark place. She wanted to go home, despite knowing that it might mean she would never again see Rafe. And if that was how she truly felt, then she must not want Rafe at all. Not the way he wanted her.

So, he held himself back, and not for the first time.

Instead of pulling her close, he stepped back across the cold stone floor. “You know, the time for the Battle for the Crown is drawing close. We should up your training intensity.”

“What?” All the blood rushed from Bree’s face in an instant, leaving her as pale as the silver moon. “Already?”

“It has been weeks, Bree. The Prince has made the formal announcement to the Courts.” Rafe reached up and ran a hand through his long, silver strands. “The funeral will be in a few days. After that, the champions will begin to arrive. We do not expect many, but we do expect some. A couple of the King’s bastards will attempt to make their move.”

“A few days,” Bree repeated. “But I’m not ready.”

“You will be,” he said as firmly as he could manage. Rafe would not accept anything but Bree’s total confidence. If she doubted herself in any way, it would get into her head during the battles. She could lose, just by believing she would lose.

Rafe no longer cared if Taveon kept hold of the crown. Yes, he wanted his friend to rule the realm, but over the past few weeks, Rafe’s priorities had changed. Now, he wanted nothing more than to get Bree through this. He wished he could take this burden off her shoulders completely, but he also knew Taveon would never allow it. This was how things had always been in this realm, and he did not see them changing anytime soon.

Bree’s face was still pale and she dropped back her head to stare up through the small square window at the top of the domed ceiling. She did that a lot. There was something in that moon that called to her, and it always seemed as though she was constantly seeking out its light.

“So, there will be just a couple of them, right? One or two?” She blew out a breath, her shoulders sagging forward. “I won’t have to fight more than that?”

“The Prince is the son of the King. Very few will want to challenge him.”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” Bree said. “If he’s the King’s son, shouldn’t he just automatically become the ruler? No battles or challenges allowed?”

“That is not how things work in Underworld, I am afraid,” Taveon said. “The throne goes to the most powerful male fae in the realm. He rules because of his power and might, not because of his birthright. It just so happens that Taveon’s family has historically been the most powerful fae family, and it is a gift that is passed down from male to male. But if there is another stronger male out there, the crown becomes his. If he brings forth a champion to fight for him.”

“But then it’s the champion’s strength that wins the fight, not the Prince’s.”

“No, Bree.” Rafe gave her a tight smile. “There is a little more magic involved than that. When you begin your fight, you will be infused with the Prince’s strength. Your might will mix with his might to become a cocktail of pure raw power. The two of you will become one in a way.”

Rafe could tell by the look on Bree’s face that she wasn’t quite thrilled by that little detail.

“Do not worry. You will not feel anything strange. His power will merely be swirling through your blood. It will help you win the fight. Taveon is...well, he is the strongest fae I have ever met.”

Bree blew out another breath before she finally looked away from the window to meet Rafe’s eyes. “Alright, I guess. I don’t suppose I have any choice in the matter, do I?”

“No. It is a requirement of the battle.”

Rafe hated this. He truly did. Bree was visibly uncomfortable with the entire situation, and she had no kind feelings toward the Prince. He wished that there was some other way. He wished there was another champion with her kind of strength. But there wasn’t, and the Prince was dead set on using her for his fight. Bree was stuck, and Rafe was stuck, and there was nothing he could do but get her as ready as he could.

“As much as I wish things could be different, they are not,” he finally said. “But I will make certain you are prepared. You can trust me, Bree, even if you do not trust the Prince.”

Her eyes shone as she made a small, timid step toward him. And then she froze in place, her body tight, as if she were afraid to move any closer. “I actually do trust you, Rafe. You’re the only one in this entire Court. Why do you think I stayed when I could have left? Surely you see that you...mean something to me.”

Rafe could barely breathe. Surely Bree was not saying what he hoped she meant. But he knew that mean something to me was a lot different than want. Friends mean something. Teachers and trainers do, too. She might care for him, but he did not think it was the same way he cared for her.

“Then, let us move on to your next stage of training.” He held out a hand. “You have mastered how to shift. Now, I will teach you how to fight.”