Anaya rose from her seat. Her men rose with her. She raised her arms out and a hush fell over the crowd. When she spoke, the joy rang through in her voice.

“The final round is upon us, shifters of Ironhaven. In due time, we will have our victor! For this round, each archer will have their own target and shoot one at a time. I have the greatest honor of introducing our first competitor, my beloved sister, Iris. The other competitors will follow in order, down the line.”

I let out an even breath as all eyes fell upon me.

No need to make it fancy, Iris, I thought to myself as I widened my stance and flexed my fingers. Just put it where it belongs. Right in the center. Everything else will take care of itself.

This is what you’ve been waiting for.

I breathed deeply as I notched my arrow and brought the bow up. I drew the string back, and the feather at the rear of the shaft tickled my cheek. I closed one eye and aimed above the target.

The breeze, almost as if in reverence, had quieted.

There was nothing to accommodate for. I just had to calculate the trajectory and let her fly. I could do this in my sleep.

The crowd was silent. Not a soul dared to break my concentration. The men in line with me all stood politely mute, their eyes fixed on my target as I took one last steadying breath.

On my exhale, I released the string. It twanged, and the vibration hummed in my ear as I watched the arrow soar through the air. It landed with a solid thunk right in the middle of the red.

I resisted the urge to leap in the air and throw my first above my head. I hadn’t won yet, but it was a perfect shot, and I mentally dared the remaining four males to beat my shot with an unbridled grin that I couldn’t quite control.

My sister cheered for me from her seat and the crowd followed suit. I enjoyed the brief celebration until they all fell silent again when the first man, the dark-skinned wonder, drew an arrow from the quiver on his broad, muscular back. I watched the muscles of his forearms flex as he drew the bow and notched the arrow in a fluid movement; one made by a body that had done this hundreds of thousands of times over.

He released his arrow as soon as the string of the bow was drawn. It all happened so quickly that I never even had time to watch the arrow fly. Before I knew it, his arrow was sitting in the middle of the red on his own target.

I swallowed.

Maybe you should have tried to be a little fancy, I thought, feeling a little worried that I had underestimated the men I was facing off against. Would just hitting the target dead center be enough? It could be a mere millimeter that would decide the victor.

The crowd hooted and hollered again, but the male never so much as cracked a smile. His expression remained unreadable as he drew himself back up to his full height. Then he rested his bow point first in the ground before him, and flicked his gaze to the cocky dark-haired man beside him, as if to say ‘get on with it already’.

I wondered idly if they knew each other but had no time to ponder as the ruggedly handsome young man lifted his fingers to his lips and whistled. The crowd waited, the breathless anticipation moving through them like a living creature, until the sound of hooves on the cobblestone could be heard clip-clopping in the distance.

What the bloody hell?

He remained stock-still as the crowd parted to allow a massive, chestnut stallion through. I watched in confusion as the great beast trotted to the man, bowing its head in a polite greeting. The stranger drew an arrow from his quiver and held it between his teeth as he effortlessly hopped atop his steed. He waggled his eyebrows at the crowd to the delight of the swooning females.

Then, he shot me a dark look—a look that made something unfurl itself below my belly. I stiffened, frowning as a hint of humor touched his dark eyes and he winked at me.

I wanted to tell him off, right then and there. Who did he think he was? But my thoughts were cut short as the horse reared onto its hind legs and broke into a trot, making a circle around the targets and gaining speed.

The crowd seemed to hold its collective breath as he came around again to the targets at a canter, straightening his legs to stand in his stirrups as he drew his arrow and let her fly.

I narrowed my eyes, gasping in shock as his arrow hit its mark. Maybe a hair left of center, but damn it if all the pomp and circumstance didn’t add something to the shot.

I looked up to see my sister’s face break out into a gleeful grin and let out a long whistle of approval.

Son of a bitch.

I didn’t blame her. It was impressive as hell. I could barely hear myself think as the audience broke into whistles and wild applause. It was only my sister's pleas for silence a full minute later that finally silenced them.

I was still blinking with awe when the massive male with the wild auburn hair strode up to his spot. He turned to face my sister and gave her a curt bow. That was better behavior—much better than eyebrow waggling and winking, that was for sure. The massive wall of muscle didn’t try anything fancy. No horses that I could hear in the offing, and I let out a breath.

This was a test of aim, not entertainment value. I still had a chance to win if the cards fell my way when the measuring sticks came out.

The behemoth lifted his bow, aimed for his target, and then at the last second shifted his aim to the left. He released the arrow and I watched in dismay as it sailed towards my target.

That dismay morphed into shock and reluctant admiration when his arrow spliced mine in two.

The crowd erupted with shrieks and I blew out a sigh. I had to admit, I was impressed, too. Impressed, but annoyed. His actions were completely unnecessary and rather rude to boot. I crossed my arms and glared at him, knowing I had already lost the contest.

The final competitor, the golden-haired lion shifter, shrugged his shoulders as if he knew all was lost, same as me. Then he proceeded to make his shot in a similar fashion to mine. He drew back, exhaled, and released the arrow. It arched perfectly and thudded into the red circle on his target.

Well, damn.

He let his bow-wielding arm fall to his side and shot me a sympathetic smile.

The crowd was cheering for all of us, delighted at the whole spectacle and we all gave a wave. I watched my sister rise to her feet again, both her hands holding her swollen belly. The crowd fell silent again as the Queen turned to regard the competitors.

“Titus the Brute, I believe?” Anaya called out, eyes glued to the giant, rusty-haired male.

The male who had shot his arrow through mine dropped to one knee and nodded.

“Aye."

“Please rise. You made a perfect shot, and a bold one, at that,” she acknowledged with a wry smile, her eyes twinkling. “I think the crowd would unanimously agree that you are the victor! Come, collect your prize, you have most certainly earned it.”

More cheering commenced as Titus made his way across the square to my sister and her four mates. I watched, gut clenching with disappointment and frustration at my own failure to win, as my sister handed him the purse full of gold coins and, undoubtedly, offered a formal invitation to join her army.

I was astounded when he shook his head politely. Anaya blinked in surprise herself, but then took both his huge hands between her tiny ones. I squinted, reading her lips as she told him she understood his choice, and she wished him all the best before sending him on his way with the gold coin purse clenched tightly in one gigantic fist.

Then, he sauntered straight across the square and headed loudly towards the tables full of ale and mead, calling to anyone who would listen to join him in celebration.

But what was there to celebrate?

I ducked my head and hurried over to Anaya. She saw me coming and turned to Gatlin, who was standing steadfastly behind her chair. She muttered something to him--a request to speak with me privately, I assumed, because when she turned towards me and took my elbow in one hand, none of her suitors followed us.

She led me around a corner where no prying eyes could see.

“You did so well, Iris,” Anaya said, her eyes bright with pride, “I was sure you had it in the bag. I can’t believe that Titus… what a shot!”

“He beat me fair and square,” I acknowledged with a nod, “had I not gone first, maybe I’d have known to do something showier. But that’s not important now. Look,” I said, slicing my hand through the air agitatedly, “I don’t mind losing.” Lie. “but I really think we need to revisit something, Anaya. Did he decline your invitation to serve in your army?”

Anaya’s eyes narrowed. She already knew where I was going with this.

“He did. He said it was not his desire to be tied down by military training as he’s got a bit of a travel bug. I can respect that. He looks well fed and properly dressed. He probably makes a comfortable living for himself doing something more suited to his wandering nature.”

“Yes, yes,” I said impatiently, dismissing her words. I sometimes forgot that she was a queen.

My Queen.

Anaya didn’t reprimand me for my rudeness, though. She fell silent and watched me, giving me all of her attention.

“I…” I paused, hoping to choose my words carefully for the best outcome, “I was hoping you would allow me to take his place.”

Anaya’s mouth opened and she shook her head.

“I know what you said before but please, just think about it, will you, at least?” I hurried to say, cutting in before she could shoot me down, yet again. “My shot was perfect. You said so yourself. You thought I was going to win. I can protect you, Anaya. I’m a good archer and swords-woman. You’ve seen me fight. You know my place is out there on the grounds, training in combat with the others. It’s what I’m supposed to do.”

I could hear the plea in my last words and, more than anything, I hated begging, but damn it, this was my life.

Anaya’s lips were pursed and now she refused to meet my eye. I knew she was going to deny me again even before she started speaking.

“Iris, please, do not confuse what I am about to say. I understand your desire to fight, to protect me and the kingdom. But try to see it from where I stand. I’m the Queen of Ironhaven. I have a duty to protect my people--and you. If something were to happen to you, God forbid, I would be an unfit ruler. You are my blood, my family.”

I looked up at the sky and swallowed hard in an effort to hold in my emotion. I had to get through this. Tears would not help me. Words just might.

“I get that. I do. But maybe you need to see me as something more than just your sister. I’m a fighter. You finally found your place on the throne. That is your destiny. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but this is mine.”

“No,” Anaya said with a gentle shake of her head, “it is not.”

“If you would just give me a chance-”

“Enough!” Anaya snapped, eyes flashing fire. “I said no, and I meant it. I do not wish to keep discussing this with you. You will just have to find some other way to use your skills. Something that won’t potentially compromise your life, and in turn, the lives of the people I have sworn to protect. I love you, dear sister, and I do not wish to hurt you. But this is something I cannot grant you, no matter how much you wish it. I’m sorry.”

Anaya squeezed my shoulder gently before slipping by me and returning to Gatlin and the others. I watched as she wrapped an arm around Michael’s waist. As always, he comforted her without the need for words. Saying no to me wasn’t easy for her, I knew, but I still resented it.

I resented it because I knew in my bones that she was wrong.

I caught the gray gaze of the golden-haired male who had fired the last arrow. He was watching me as he packed up his quiver and shrugged into a brown leather vest. I squared my shoulders and made to go by him to return to the castle and my quarters, intent on skipping the rest of the festivities and lick my wounds.

He cleared his throat when I passed. I looked over my shoulder at him, arching an eyebrow in question.

An accident, or had he been trying to get my attention?

“That was a beautiful shot you made,” he said, his voice smoother than silk, “care to drown your sorrows over a drink with me? The others have already started in on the mead.” He nodded towards a long table beneath a tent where a group of males drank and laughed raucously.

A drink did sound more preferable to sitting alone in my bedroom thinking about what could’ve been. I could always do that later, when my head was buzzing pleasantly from wine.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug, “I’ve nothing better to do, I suppose.”

He grinned. “I’m honored to spend time with you then, since you’ve nothing better to do.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, realizing how rude that had sounded. “I just had a conversation that didn’t really go my way and-”

“And as the Queen’s sister you are, perchance, rather used to getting your way?” The question slipped off his tongue with such ease, it took me a second to realize he’d sort of insulted me right back.

At first, I was appalled by his nerve to say something so forward to me. Then I found that I kind of liked it. He was treating me the way I wanted to be treated; the way I would be treated if I was a soldier in the Queen’s Army instead of the Queen’s precious sister.

I planted my hands on my hips and gave him my best devil may care grin. “I’m just a poor loser choking on sour grapes today, to be honest.”

He threw his head back and laughed. The sound reminded me of water rushing downstream in a frenzied race. It was pleasant.

“Come on then, Princess, let’s join the others and get you some crushed grapes that aren’t sour,” he said.

I fell into step beside him, and less than a minute later he was stepping into the tent.

Titus was sitting at a long bench table in the far corner. He was flanked by the other two men from the final round of the competition. They were drinking out of stone mugs that were foaming over with mead. I could smell it from where I stood and I inhaled deeply.

No point in letting this beautiful day go to waste, was there?

The handsome lion shifter at my side put his hand between my shoulders and guided me towards the table. He indicated that I should take the seat beside Titus and then he dropped down in the vacant spot beside me.

He threw his hand in the air and summoned a server to bring us a round of drinks before leaning forward on his elbows and jerking his thumb in my direction.

“Gentlemen, meet the lady who nearly kicked our asses in the tournament, Iris. Princess Iris, I should say,” he clarified, dipping his head to me in apology for not leading with my title. “I’m Mathias. Pleased to meet you, Princess.”

“I’m not a princess, so Iris is fine,” I said, sticking out my hand to the dark-skinned male, trying not to seem too eager but already tingling with anticipation.

His green gaze flicked to my hand and he waited a beat before shaking it. An instant arc of electricity skittered between us and his nostrils flared as his eyes lit with surprise.

“Eryk,” he said, his voice low. He spoke rather slowly, like a man who measured the weight of each word he spoke.

The man beside him, the charmer who had caught the handkerchief from one of the maidens in the square, flashed me that rugged smile of his again before shaking my hand.

“And I’m Dimitri, pleased to meet you.” He lifted my hand to his lips, where he planted a kiss across my knuckles.

I pulled my hand away and rubbed my knuckles on my pants to quell the tingling while Titus gently shouldered me.

“And you already know who I am,” he said, his voice so deep and powerful that I could feel the vibration of it beneath my bottom on the wooden bench we shared.

“Titus the Brute,” I said with a reluctant smile, “our victor. Congratulations...I suppose.”

Titus laughed. It was a booming sort of laughter that rumbled through me and made my reluctant smile stretch into a full-fledged grin. He fixed me with a long look before saying, “Try to sound at least a little happy for me, won’t you, Princess?”

“Not a princess,” I said again, before looking back to the other three. “You are all quite talented with the bow.”

“If not a little crass,” Eryk said darkly, shooting Dimitri a scowl. “The whole thing with the horse. What was that all about?”

Dimitri chuckled. “I wasn’t really in it for the gold. Gold is good and all, but the women… that’s the real prize. And you have to find a way to stand out from the crowd if you want to catch a woman’s eye, right, Iris?” he asked, his eyes glittering with amusement and something else that had my heart beating just a little faster.

Eryk turned his attention back to me and tipped his head in a curt nod. “You were extraordinary yourself, Iris. If Titus here hadn’t split your arrow, we’d still be out there waiting for them to figure out who won. I call it dumb luck.”

“Thank you,” I said, “but I wouldn’t call it luck. He beat me fair and square and it was a bold move that could’ve backfired. He took the risk, and reaped the reward.”

Titus treated us to more of his booming laughter just as a server arrived at the end of the table with a tray of drinks. She passed one around to all of us, and before mine was even in my hands, Titus asked her to keep them coming.

I opened my mouth to protest, and then shut it firmly. There was nothing wrong in partaking in some celebratory drinks with my fellow competitors.

Mathias raised his mug of mead and we all followed suit. The amber-colored liquid frothed when we clanked our cups together, and then we all drank greedily. I wiped foam from my upper lip when I was done, and then became absorbed in listening to the men talk.

I’d spent quite a bit of time with men on the training grounds, but I’d been so intent learning and improving my craft, I’d rarely gone out drinking and making merry with them, choosing instead to practice alone or work on new arrow designs. And there was no denying that I’d never been in the presence with men such as these. The closest I had come to it was being at dinner with my sister and her four suitors, although even that was different. They only had eyes for Anaya. These men, wild and unruly, were brewing up a storm inside me of the likes that I had never felt before. Each time one of their gazes fell on me it was like a bolt of lightning was ripping through my veins and setting my skin on fire.

I realized sharply that I was genuinely attracted to them. Every single one of them.

Titus and his booming voice and strong, capable hands. Dimitri and his easy grin. Mathias and his warmth. And Eryk…oh, Eryk. There was something beneath that aloofness. Something hot and pulsing just waiting to be unleashed.

I took a long pull from my mug, suddenly parched again.

The second round of drinks appeared a moment later. The men had all polished theirs off and they reached for their mugs. Titus pushed one towards me then glanced down at my still half-full mug.

“You’re falling behind there, Princess. I was sure with the way you shoot you’d be able to match us drink for drink. What a pity.” He took a long slow drink but kept his eyes on me.

Was that a challenge?

It definitely felt like it, and I’d never been good at resisting one of those.

I lifted my mug to my lips, tilted my head back, and polished off the last of my drink in four easy mouthfuls. The men clapped their hands on the table and cheered me on as I matched Titus for a second round. We stared each other down while finishing the second drink at the same time.

I slammed my mug down, licked my lips, and blinked up at him innocently. “You were saying?”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Titus boomed, “there’s some fire in you, Princess. I like it.”

“Iris,” I tried one last time.

Mathias rested his hand on the small of my back to draw my attention to him. His golden hair shimmered in the candlelight as he leaned in toward me.

“Don’t let him egg you on too much, he won’t stop until he’s unconscious on the floor. He’s three times your size, you won’t be able to match him.”

Another battle I was destined to lose, then.

What Mathias was saying was true. I nodded my agreement and Mathias gave me a soft smile before shifting back to face the others at the table.

Was he looking out for me? I studied the sharp line of his jaw, the tendons in his neck, and the bit of exposed chest at the collar of his shirt.

I suddenly felt very hot. My cheeks were burning as a rush of dizziness washed over me. I blinked and clutched the edge of the table.

Were these men so physically attractive that I was struggling just to sit upright?

Surely, that couldn’t be.

Mathias’s hand was on my back again. “Iris,” he said in my ear, his breath hot and smelling like the sweet amber mead, “are you alright?”

I tried to nod. It only made me dizzier. I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead and closed my eyes in an attempt to make the spinning stop.

“I’m just not feeling very well all of a sudden,” I said. “I should go… I need to find my sister. Something’s wrong and-”

“Let me take you outside the tent for some fresh air,” Titus said, drawing me to my feet.

I stumbled along toward the opposite end of the tent, letting Titus lead the way. It was only when we stopped moving that I managed to open my eyes.

The noise and bustle of the square felt far away and I realized we were behind the tanner’s hut.

“What’s going on? Why--”

But my words were cut short as something was forced over my head. I froze in place, confused and overcome with panic. I reached up in an effort to tear the thing from my head--it smelled like burlap and twine--but my hands were clumsy, as if I was moving in slow motion.

Big hands caught my wrists and pinned them behind my back.

Someone grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me unceremoniously up over their shoulder. I tried to scream. No sound came out. My throat felt hot and tight, and it was becoming impossible to keep my eyes open.

Whoever was carrying me was walking and I was hanging over their back like a rag doll. The rumbling voices around me died away as I tried to scream, but it was no use. Already, the darkness was swirling around me and closing over me like a wet blanket.

My last thought was of my sister, Anaya, and how right she’d been.

I couldn’t protect her. Hell, I couldn’t even protect myself…

And then I thought no more.