The Elven Command is in an uproar. But they aren’t allowed to touch me and for the first time in the history of Marbella Mercy that works to my advantage.

I walk right past them as they shout at me and I carry my stone to the chest. I place it into the bottom right compartment in the only remaining space. As I step back, the magic takes hold and the lid slams shut.

The bang startles everyone into silence.

“What’s done is done,” I say.

I return to the dais, but instead of remaining in the center, I remove my cloak and hand it to Jordan. She takes it, her face streaked with tears and now with shock.

“Princess…”

“He loves you. He’s being forced to do this.”

Before I return to stand on the dais, I seek Elise across the room. She nods. She knows why I’m doing this. Revealed in my armor for the first time, I raise my voice to the clambering elves. “My people, if you expect me to be your Storm Princess, to fight for you and protect you, then understand this. I will fight for myself first.”

A female voice in the crowd cries, “We honor you Princess, but the Princess can’t fight to the death!”

“In a battle between myself and another elf, either of us may exercise the right to yield. I believe the Elven Command will support that change in the circumstances.”

The Elven Command suck in their breath. I just rewrote the rules and they’re all chewing lemons right now. More than one of them looks like they’re about to spit. The final battle is always to the death. Yielding isn’t an option. Or, at least, it never was before. But they can’t let me die.

They huddle behind me, whispering. Gideon Glory and Pedr Bounty eye me with distrust. Osian Valor and Teilo Splendor are the calmest but they’re both shrewd, clever males whose intentions are difficult to read. It’s the frosty expression on Elwyn Elder’s face that really worries me. Even though every elven House has an equal vote, Elwyn holds the highest seat so in a deadlock he has the deciding vote.

It’s Elwyn who steps forward. “The Princess may yield at any time in any trial. However, if she reaches the final battle, she must kill her opponent in order to win. This is so that her closest match does not survive to threaten her position.”

They make it sound like they’re protecting me.

“And…” He glances at the others. “She must not forget her duty to the Storm Vault.”

How could I ever forget? “I won’t.”

His posture doesn’t change, tense and unyielding. “Then there’s only one more question before we begin the trials: does the Princess wish to exercise her right to veto a champion?”

Before each test begins, I have the right to veto a particular champion. It sounds simple, but it’s dangerous.

To veto a House is to dishonor that House, so as a way to alleviate the shame, that House has the right to ask something of me in return. It can’t be something I’m not capable of giving but it can be something that I might not want to give: gold and silver are the obvious penalties, but there are dangerous requests like admitting a female elf from the vetoed House into my Storm Command even if she isn’t compatible or skilled.

Also, the veto power can only be used once, and only until the time when there are three males left. I can veto one of the three, but not once there are only two—because if I could use it at that time, then I could effectively pick my husband.

On top of that, it has to be used strategically. Using it now, at the beginning of the trials before I’ve seen what any of the champions is capable of would be foolish—I could use up my veto power on a male who was going to be knocked out in the first round anyway.

The trials for Mai’s marriage protocol are recorded publicly so I know she didn’t use her veto power at all. When she was asked the final time whether she wanted to use it, she said, “My heart was sealed the moment Darian Gild walked into this room. I don’t need to use the veto power because I know he’ll win.”

I was always in awe of how clever she was. Darian won, of course, but it made me smile to think how she’d subverted the protocols, effectively undermining the other two champions without owing their Houses any compensation. If either of the other two champions had been kind-hearted, I would have felt sorry for them, but the records of the protocols showed otherwise.

I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”

“Then, we will now reveal the first test. This is a test of physical endurance. It is not a battle against the other champions, but a battle against yourself. Each of you will be transported to a spot that is an equal distance from Scepter Peak in the Revenant mountains. Those who reach the peak within twenty-four hours will proceed to the next round. Those who don’t will be eliminated. The trial begins at the third hour this afternoon.”

His gaze flicks to me. That gives me less than half the time I need to subdue the storm and get ready.

“Any champion not present in the courtyard at that time will be eliminated. Go in peace.” He swivels to me. “Princess, you must subdue the storm before you leave.”

I narrow my eyes at him. They didn’t know I was going to compete so I can’t assume they set it up to make me fail, but it doesn’t give me much time to prepare for the climb, let alone recover from the Storm Vault first. I’m definitely at a disadvantage. “As I said, I won’t forget my duties.”

I wait for them to file from the dais. The Elven Command leaves first, the spectators second, the champions third and, lastly, me. In the distance, my parents are the last to leave the stands. My father and mother both tap their chests and hold out their hands to me, a symbol of their love. I copy the gesture, tears burning at the back of my eyes. Down in the champion’s area, Baelen nods to my brother as the other champions leave and he joins them. My brother remains at the edge of the dais until the others have gone. Jordan, Elise, and my Storm Command wait in the wings so I’m not as alone as I’d like to be right now.

I cross the distance and sink to my knees at the edge of the dais so I’m at eye level with my brother. “Hello, Macsen. Brother.”

He bows his head more formally than I expected him to. “Princess.” But then he grins at me. “Sister.”

I smile. “There’s the brother I know.”

“You’ve put yourself in the path of danger by becoming a champion.”

“I’m in greater danger if I don’t compete.”

He tilts his head, questioning. “Whatever you face, Baelen won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Unfortunately, Baelen’s strength doesn’t help me right now.”

His smile vanishes. “Well, now you’ve really got me worried.”

“I wish I could tell you more.” I force a smile onto my face. “Actually… I really wish I could give you a hug. I have a feeling you’d tower over me now.”

“That I would, big sister.”

Elise clears her throat from the side. My time’s up. “Are our parents well?”

“Much better for seeing you.”

I draw to my feet and he takes a step back. I can’t leave until he does. It’s my job to take the chest to my quarters where my Storm Command will guard over it.

Macsen pauses. “I don’t know what happened between you and Baelen. But he won’t let you go without a fight.”

With that, he spins and strides from my sight. I blink away my surprise. I have to focus on the trial now. When I reach Jordan, my brain is already working at a million miles an hour.

I say, “Winning at this test is as much about preparation as endurance. I need clothing to withstand the climb and protect me from the weather, as well as food and equipment. I’ll need to survive a night in the mountains. And I don’t have as much time as the other champions to prepare because I need to subdue the Storm.”

She keeps pace beside me, calling the Storm Command to bring the chest. “We still have packs prepared from when we climbed the Rath peaks to collect webs and husks. I’ll modify the contents of one of those. And you can wear the same climbing suits we used—they’re light but thermal to guard against the cold.”

“I’ll gather food,” Elise chimes in.

“No, please, I need you with me in the Vault. I have a feeling it’s going to be hell today.”

The wind picks up first, wailing around the walls of the Storm Vault. It’s so fast and thick that it looks like water streaming against the walls. The center where I stand is total calm. My heart sinks. The storm’s only done this once before—the day of Rordan Rath’s funeral—the day I tried to see Baelen.

I’m not an unwitting victim this time and I don’t wait for the Storm to build. I know what’s coming and it’s not pretty. I hold my hand up high, drawing the lightning down to me, waiting for it to encompass my arm and torso like armor made of light. I feel stronger with it around me. Then I scream into the clouds. “Why are you doing this, Beast?”

A small but visible wind tunnel separates from the wailing wind spinning around the Vault. It’s a mini tornado and it shoots right at me, screaming sound as it moves.

Your husband will kill you.

I duck. The tornado speeds past my ears and does a U-turn right back at me.

“No, he won’t! I won’t have a husband. I’m fighting for myself.”

The tornado strikes at me like a snake. I throw my hands up to ward off the blow, expecting the pain of the lashing wind.

Everything stops.

He won’t be himself.

The whisper comes from right in front of me. I release my crossed arms and open my eyes to find the mouth of the wind tunnel paused in front of me.

It repeats: He won’t be himself.

I shudder so hard my arms shake. Of course, a curse takes over and the person doesn’t know what they’re doing.

The mouth of the wind tunnel widens, opening and rising above me. It crashes down on me, sucking me upward at the same time. I don’t have time to defend myself as it pulls me across the Vault, slamming me against the wall.

The air leaves my lungs. Pain courses through every bone in my body. Now I’m caught in the larger hurricane beating around the room. The centrifugal force pins me against the walls. I could bear it if the walls were smooth, but they were originally made of rock and stone and the surface grates against me, shredding my storm suit in patches. My skin will be next.

I push against the force as hard as I can, pulling my knees under me, scraping them at the same time, ready to spring out of the wind. It takes every muscle in my legs, but I fling myself backward and toward the calm center.

I’m free for two seconds before the smaller wind tunnel picks me up again. It throws me upward, hurling me into the air. High up, there’s calm. For a moment, I can see everything beneath me: the wind whooshing around the walls, the smaller tornado writhing like a serpent, the lightning trying to curl back around me.

It’s time to fight back.

I harness the lightning as the ground races toward me, drawing more and more of it toward me. Thunder suddenly rages above me. I draw the sound in and at the same time as I hold the lightning, I release the thunder beneath me.

It thuds between me and the ground, the force halting me several feet from where I was about to smash against the floor.

I lower myself to the ground, drawing more and more lightning to me with my arms and hands. The lightning in my hands changes color. It’s no longer the usual blue. Instead, it streaks dark red like streams of blood run inside it. The force grows in my hands, raging and pulsing. Tendrils reach beyond the sphere, trickling along my arms and across my chest. It burns like acid. If I don’t release it soon, it will consume me.

The wind tunnel looms over me again. With a scream, I release the burning mass into the wind tunnel and the raging storm above me.

The sphere explodes into the darkness, staining the air, and for a moment, a shape is revealed in the roiling darkness. The outline of a female’s figure burns in the sky above me before it fades.

I sink to my knees. The wind stops wailing. It must have started to rain at some point during the fight because water drips around me and from my hair. I’ve collapsed in a puddle of rainwater that’s quickly turning icy—a last reminder of the storm’s power.

I force myself to stand before my legs go numb. My storm suit is shredded in places and my knees are bleeding. I’m not sure how I’m going to regain my energy before the trial begins in another hour. I drag myself across the Vault. I don’t even have the energy to squeeze the water from my hair as I push through the first door.

I stop short inside the ante-room.

Baelen stands in the center of the room while Elise waits at the side. Bae’s head is down, his eyes closed, his feet planted, and his hands formed into fists at his side. There’s something about his posture that alarms me—something locked as if he’s fighting a battle inside his mind that I can’t see.

“Baelen?”

He raises his head, slowly opening his eyes and, for a second, his green eyes are flecked with red. It’s the same color as his family’s heartstone. Crimson light trickles across his irises, flowing across his cheeks and down his neck. The color fades as he refocuses on me.

He says, “The Storm’s growing stronger. You shouldn’t have to fight it alone.”

I’m cautious, not sure if what I just saw in his face was a trick of the light—some sort of visual disturbance caused by my own actions with the lightning just now. “I wish I didn’t have to.”

He nods, accepting my response. The light is gone from his eyes and his expression is piercing, focused now. “The Elven Command won’t drop me anywhere near you for the first trial. They’ll place me on the other side of the mountain.”

I can’t stop the smile playing around my mouth. “I don’t need your protection, Baelen Rath.”

“No, but you need my knowledge. The Elven Command will keep us apart at all costs. This might be the last conversation we have.”

He’s right, but not only about that. This might be the last moment we ever share in private. I have no idea what the future trials will involve. Elise has stepped to the other side of the room. She won’t take her eyes off me, but it’s the most privacy she can give us.

“What do I need to know?”

“There are gargoyle nests on Scepter peak.”

My eyes widen. “But… no… We have to warn the Elven Command.”

“They already know.”

My mouth drops open. “What? They know they’re about to drop the champions on a mountain with gargoyle nests?”

“To kill the gargoyles. There are enough champions to do it.”

“But the nests are where the gargoyles raise their babies. Killing them would be an act of war.”

He shakes his head. “The gargoyles shouldn’t be there. It’s our territory and the Elven Command can claim ignorance—they’ll say that the champions simply defended themselves. Male gargoyles protect their children with the savagery of a wild animal. It won’t take much to provoke one.”

Shock slams through me. “But the Command does know and that’s worse than war. That’s… murder. How many nests are there?”

I’m not sure why I care. The gargoyles have always been our enemy. They almost wiped us out. And yet… I’ve always held the elves to a higher standard—a better way of fighting with honor. We would never attack children. For the Elven Command to deliberately send warriors into a place knowing it could turn into slaughter is cruel and wrong.

“Only two. One on each side of the mountain.”

I catch up fast. “And there are two of us. You want me to make my path alongside one of the nests so none of the champions will come near it.”

He nods. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, but if you wait for the other champions to pass you by, they won’t discover the nest.”

“But that could mean losing.”

He smiles. “Will it? The other champions might underestimate you, but I don’t.”

“I guess it could work in my favor. Make them think I can’t handle the mountain.”

“When I know you can.”

I swallow. I grew up climbing the Rath peaks. The image of Baelen sitting at the edge of the cliff returns to me.

He continues. “I haven’t figured out why yet, but there are forces at work within the Elven Command that want to disrupt the peace between us and the gargoyles.”

I can’t help glancing back at the Storm Vault. It told me that my husband would kill me and release the storm. Now Baelen is saying that someone in the Elven Command is looking for war. There’s no doubt in my mind that it’s all connected.

I frown, realizing something. “But when you showed me the gargoyle nests in the War Room, you didn’t point to Scepter peak.”

Frustration enters his voice. “Because the Elven Command refuses to make it public knowledge. They forbid me to tell anyone.”

“Then how can you tell me now?”

“Because I bound myself to you. My oath to you comes before everything else. Even if you hadn’t chosen to be a champion, your life is in danger.”

So that’s why he bound himself to me. I try to focus on the problem, but my reaction is too strong. I can’t stop myself from saying, “You only bound yourself to me so you could tell me secrets.”

I’m shocked by how bitter that makes me feel. Disappointment rises like the storm inside me. My fingers tingle with remembered lightning and my chest suddenly aches as if icy rain has gathered inside it.

He draws near to me. His gaze burns me. “Telling you secrets is just a happy consequence. I bound myself to you for many reasons.”

I want a real answer, but I’m not sure how far to push him if he doesn’t want to tell me. “But, Bae… if you lose… you won’t have the chance to love another elf. There must be… someone… in your life now?”

He shakes his head. He pauses, glances at Elise, and I suspect he’s choosing his response carefully, the same way I always think before I speak.

He asks, “Do you really not see it?”

“See what?”

He turns his head. He points to the scar running the length of the side of his face. “This.”

“No. I don’t.” I scowl. “Are you telling me that not a single elven girl came near you because of that?”

He taps the scar with his finger. “I learned very quickly that this changes everything.”

“Why?”

My response makes him frown. He stares at me. “It really doesn’t make a difference to you?”

“I don’t see it and I don’t care about it.” I stop, because that sounded wrong. “Of course I care that you were hurt. I care that you almost died. I care…” My voice chokes, but I force myself to keep speaking. “I care that I was the one who did that to you.”

His eyebrows draw down, but it’s a thoughtful frown not an angry one. “You blame yourself for this.”

“Yes! Of course I do! It was my fault. I never should have been on that cliff with you. But I wanted to see you before you left for military training. Then the storm came for me and I thought you died. I thought I lost you…”

I gasp. He’s taken two steps forward and suddenly we’re standing a mere inch apart. He’s so tall that I have to tilt my head back to see his face. His head slants down to mine but his hands stay at his sides.

He doesn’t close the gap between us.

He says, “I bound myself to you because I wanted to.”

My heart thumps inside my chest. A shock of lightning travels through my spine in both directions: up across my shoulders and down to my toes. It comes from deep inside me, triggered by his voice and the nearness of his body. I forget that I could hurt him—kill him. The lightning reaches out. It wants to connect. I lean forward, but what he says next makes me freeze.

“My father told me you had nightmares.”

I swallow, keeping my voice low. “Elise told me they thought you wouldn’t walk again.”

He says, “I almost didn’t. Then I thought of never standing beside you again.”

“But you disappeared, Bae. You stayed away from me.”

“I had to. I had to… force myself to keep moving in the opposite direction to you because if I didn’t, I’d find myself here, tearing down these walls to get to you.”

The light reappears in his eyes. Nobody ever invoked the heartstone bond before so I don’t know anything about its effects, what it looks like, but the light in his eyes, the way he looks at me, draws me closer to him. Dangerously close.

I whisper, “I don’t get to choose who I love.”

“Is that why you nominated yourself? So you can control the outcome?”

“Yes.” It’s true, but I can’t tell him the real reason why. “But what if it only makes things worse?”

“Nothing could be worse than being this close to you and not being able to touch you.”

Heat builds between us. Physical, tangible heat. The gap between us is so narrow, so delicate that any movement might close it. The glow from the corner of my eye tells me that I’m not in control of the lightning right now. Light twists along my arms and legs, reaching through my dripping and ripped clothing, wisps of it reaching out toward him.

For the first time, I wonder why Elise hasn’t stepped in, raced forward, kept us apart, and that’s when I realize…

Nothing else is moving. She’s frozen beside the wall, one leg raised as if she was in the process of taking a step forward.

I’ve used the thunder. I’ve slowed time. I’m not sure when I did it, but relief floods me. I exhale and it’s like breaking chains. For the first time, I can speak freely.

“I can’t lose you again, Bae. I thought you died once and it killed me.”

“You won’t lose me.” The corner of his mouth turns up in that rare half-smile that makes my heart thud. “I made sure of that when I took the oath.”

“But when you bonded to me, you made yourself a target—”

His smile disappears. “I’m already a target. I’m the last Rath. I have a right to a seat on the Elven Command, but they won’t let me near it. They’ve kept me away by electing me as the Commander of the Elven Army instead. Just like they did with my father. I command the army, but they command me. They choose to keep me at arm’s length, away from the decision-making. And you…”

His gaze passes across my face like a caress. “You defied them today. You have no idea how afraid they are of you.”

My control on time is slipping. Elise’s foot begins to lower and I know she’ll separate us in a matter of seconds. I have so much to ask him like where he went all those years that he disappeared, and what is his plan for finding out what’s going on with the Elven Command. I want to tell him about the curse, but I can’t. And that’s my worst problem. Bae doesn’t know about it, but he knows I have the right to yield in battle. If, somehow, we make it to the final two, he trusts me to yield instead of killing him.

He trusts me.

He steps back: one step, then two, pulling away from me and part of me goes with him. The light in his eyes fades and the lightning playing across my body turns dull and sinks back into me, left lifeless by the distance between us. The separation stabs every nerve ending in my body like a thousand needles.

“Spin gold, shelter silver,” he says. “You are worth more than both.”

Elise’s foot lowers. Suddenly animated, she races forward only to stop and frown, blinking at us. Baelen has positioned himself several feet away—a very respectable distance—which is clearly not what she thought she saw. She clears her throat as he bows to her. He spins on his heel and exits through the door before she can say a word.

Her eyes narrow at me. “I’m missing time.” Her accusation is sharp. “And it’s happened before. You need to tell me what’s going on.”

I opt for honesty. “I can’t call it at will, but the thunder lets me slow time.”

Her eyebrows rise.

I add: “I think there’s a lot more to the storm than anybody knows.”

“I think you’re right.” She draws herself up. “Well, we’ll have to deal with that later. Right now there’s no time to waste. You need to get back to your quarters and get ready. Obviously, I didn’t hear everything you said, but I did hear that there are gargoyles on Scepter peak. If you order me to, I will alert the other advisors. We need to prevent a fight.”

“No. As much as it’s wrong, the Elven Command will know that Baelen told me. That will only put us in more danger. I’ll follow Bae’s plan. But I need you to find out everything you can about gargoyle nests in the next half an hour. I want to be prepared.”