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I listen as Larah asks, “Do we take all five of them out or just the king, queen, and Vanna?”

“All of them.” Elm replies, launching a throwing knife into a target with deadly precision. “If you leave any alive, they will retaliate.”

“But the youngest one, Lilyana, seems nice—nothing like the rest of them. And… the prince doesn’t seem all that bad,” I add.

Larah’s lips curl slightly, amused, but Elm fixes me with a blank, unyielding stare. “Lilyana has always been a sweetheart,” he says, voice devoid of emotion. “But if we do this, it has to be all of them. If we take out Vanna, the king and queen will come for us relentlessly. They’re ruthless. I heard from the guards that Prince Lukene was recently sent to take over Skalhar. They’re trying to conquer the entire continent.”

“What happened?” I ask, bracing myself for the answer.

“He succeeded,” Elm says grimly. “The guards said they’ve never seen anything like it. He wiped them all out, consuming them with his shadows. They said it was a bloodbath, yet none of his own was spilt.”

“Kingdoms go to war all the time,” I argue. “He’s the Captain of the Royal Guard. He has to follow orders from the king and Vanna. He isn’t the reason we were sent to The Hollows.” I glance at Elm, hoping for agreement. “…And neither is Lilyana,” I add softly.

Elm’s calculating gaze doesn’t falter. “They all go, Reign. Prince Lukene is dangerous. He’s loyal to the crown, and that makes him lethal. Keep your head down and stay out of his path.”

I know Elm—he’s worried. But there is nothing to be worried about. If he says they all go, then they do.

“How do we do it?” Larah asks, always pragmatic.

“Poison,” I suggest. “We can slip it in their tea or food. Depending where the trials are held, I can try to grab different herbs, roots, and flowers to make it.” I silently thank my parents for teaching me about plant magic, healing elixirs, and poisons.

As Elm and Larah talk about… something, I see Prince Lukene talking to James and Kylo. He has his shirt off. Double burning hells, how does someone have that many muscles? My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. He is sinfully beautiful. He has a giant cursed rose tattooed on the center of his chest. It has vines with big thorns extending from it that trail to his shoulders, slightly up his neck, and coil down both arms. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. Ugh, I can’t think like that. He is a royal. My enemy. I continue to look down his body and back up. I startle when I get to his face because now he is looking at me. Then he winks. He winks! Arrogant pompous prince. Heat floods my cheeks, and I curse myself for getting caught staring.

“Reign?” Elm’s voice pulls me back to reality. He’s glaring at me now.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?” I mumble, embarrassed.

Elm sighs, exasperated. “He’s trouble, Reign. Stay away. They don’t call him the Dark Prince for nothing.”

A guard rushes out, and within moments, Lukene and the guard are sprinting back toward the castle. Kylo approaches our group, commanding our attention.

“In four weeks, the king will host a ball right before the first royal trial,” he announces, his gaze sweeping over the guards and contestants. “He hopes this will help motivate you to do your best in the trials. So, break off and train hard.”

Since Lukene left me, I am now with Captain Kylo and Elm. Elm’s power isn’t strong, but he has a solid grasp of how to use it. When it’s my turn, Kylo focuses on building up my magic.

“Now, concentrate on the flame in your hand.” Kylo says softly.

My eyes are closed, my hands extended out in front of me. Before I closed them there was a tiny flame hovering over my palms.

“Now, feel that power. Follow it down further and further. Feel for the sensation and will the power into your hand,” Kylo instructs, his voice calm.

I feel for it. It’s there. A fiery pit of burning hell, wrapped in broken promises and lost time—dipped in feral rage and speckled with grief. It’s just sitting in the pit of my stomach. I follow the feeling down, down, down. Tugging on it, I feel a surge of heat—so intense I clench my eyes tighter. When I adjust, I open them to see my tiny flame transformed into a large, blazing inferno. Goddesses above, I did it! I suppress a squeal of excitement.

Kylo claps me on the shoulder. “See! I knew you could do it. Now all we have to do is see what you can do with it. But that will have to wait for another day.”

With training concluded, everyone heads to the healer with their guards. Since I don’t need healing, and Lukene left, I slip away, wandering down a different palace corridor. I just want to explore a bit before returning to my room.

As I approach a hall, I hear yelling. Curiosity gets the best of me, overpowering my sense of caution. I follow the sound until I am near the front of the palace. I peer around a pillar at the wide-open front doors, and see two royal guards, Prince Lukene, and a man in tattered rags. The man’s voice is desperate, raw.

“Please! Please! I know they are in there. I know you have them!” the man begs, his voice cracking with anguish.

“Sir, you need to leave now. We don’t have your children. And don’t come back again with this foolishness, or you will meet the end of my sword,” Lukene commands, his voice thunderous and merciless.

The man collapses to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. “Two precious little children… they are all I have left, after my wife died. The royals came and took them!” His grief echoes through the grand hall.

“My men would do no such thing!” Lukene roars, his voice cold and unforgiving.

I creep closer to the entrance, my ears straining to hear. Then, in a flash, the man stands and lunges at Lukene with a dagger. But before the blade even comes close, Lukene unsheathes his short sword and drives it into the man’s gut. The movement is swift, practiced, lethal.

With the sword still buried in the man’s belly, Prince Lukene leans in, his voice low. “May the Mother,” he murmurs, and with one brutal pull, he rips the man’s abdomen open. Entrails and blood pour out of him, a waterfall of crimson and gore. He drops to his knees and looks down as his insides spill out, splashing on the ground. Then, he crumples into the mess in front of him. His eyes are wide open, yet seeing nothing.

Tears prick my eyes as a strangled gasp escapes me. Realizing my mistake, I clamp my hands over my mouth, my heart hammering. I pray to the Mother that the Prince doesn’t hear me.

But he does. Prince Lukene turns around and faces me. His eyes darken and narrow. He looks like the ruler of the double hells himself with blood splattered all over his face. He’s a monster—a real monster. The devil, alive and well, now faces me.

He stalks toward me. Slowly, I back away, eyes wide, mouth on the floor. Is he going to kill me? He still has his bloody sword in his hand as he gets closer and closer to me. I back up until my back hits the pillar and he’s in front of me.

I can’t breathe, my heart is punching my ribcage as if trying to escape. I feel terror like I have never felt before. He places both hands on either side of my head, effectively boxing me in with his sword still in hand, blood dripping from it. The metallic tang of blood fills my nose as we stare at each other. My chest rises and drops raggedly as my legs threaten to give out.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Reckless. You were supposed to go to the healer,” he says, his voice disturbingly gentle. His piercing eyes search mine as if reading every thought, every fear. I squirm under his menacing green-eyed stare. His dark aura is bleeding into me, enveloping me in its evil embrace. How can someone be so dangerous yet so beautiful? He is hauntingly formidable.

“I uh… I uh…” I can’t breathe, all the air from my lungs is caught in my throat. I look past Lukene and watch as two guards lift the dead man off the ground, more of his insides falling out. I think I’m going to be sick, but I can’t tear my eyes away.

A strong, warm hand cups my face, and Lukene tilts my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Reckless,” he murmurs, “I need you to go to your room now. A healer will be there soon. Go. Now.” His voice is soft, too soft for a man that just ripped open another man’s stomach.

I nod. He removes his arm, and I slip out, never taking my eyes off him until I reach the corridor. My legs are like jelly, and my vision blurs as the world tilts. Oh, Gods, I am going to pass out. I can’t breathe. My body tingles, and darkness creeps into the edges of my mind. I’m falling, and the last thing I feel is a pair of strong hands catching me before everything goes black.

* * *

I wake in my room to find Sasha sitting next to my bed. “Oh good, you’re awake! The healer just left and said you should be up soon.”

I sit up, and she hands me a glass of water. Greedily, I take it, drinking the entirety of the glass. “Why was the healer here?”

“Well… You passed out. Plus, she healed your wrist and ribs.”

I grunt in frustration and rub a hand down my face. That arrogant, know-it-all bastard.

“Come on. Let’s get you bathed and dressed. Lilyana should be here soon. She wants you to go to the market with her.”

“Why?” I ask, scrunching my face in confusion.

“I don’t know. All she said is to get you ready when you wake.”

Sighing, I make my way to the washroom and wash up as usual. When I emerge wrapped in a drying cloth, Sasha has laid out a beautiful cream-colored dress. She helps me slip it on and expertly pulls my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck.

* * *

Lilyana takes me to the market, where the sun sits high and the wind carries a crisp edge that hints at the coming autumn. We walk along a path of perfectly arranged cobblestones, flanked by neatly manicured greenery. On one side, carts and vendors offer trinkets and food, while elegant shops line the other, all leading to the bustling heart of the market. The people milling about are dressed in luxurious clothing, buying things they probably don’t need—things only the wealthy can afford.

Lilyana stops in front of a charming dress shop adorned with elaborate gowns in the window. As we step inside, we’re greeted warmly by the store clerk. The shop is a kaleidoscope of colors, filled with beautiful dresses and luxurious fabrics.

“Do you like this one?” Lilyana is holding up a pale-yellow dress, her eyes sparkling.

“It’s beautiful. It would look lovely on you,” I reply.

She laughs. “Not for me, for you.”

I shake my head. “I can wear whatever Sasha picks out for me. I don’t need a dress.”

“Don’t be silly. Pick out a dress,” she insists, her smile genuine. “We aren’t leaving until you have a dress too.” She laughs and starts digging through the racks.

“Lilyana, why did you want me to come with you?” I ask, my curiosity piquing.

She pauses and turns to face me, her expression suddenly serious. “You didn’t treat me like a royal. You treated me like a person, a real person. Maybe it’s selfish, but that’s why… I need a friend. And I enjoyed your company at breakfast. I loved how you didn’t have to do anything to get under Cora’s skin.” She laughs loudly, and her joy is infectious. “She’s been after Lukene for years.”

Lukene. I sigh inwardly. What a monster. How did the king and queen have three children and two are total monsters? But Lilyana… she’s different. Sweet, kind, funny. Maybe I could use a friend, too. I don’t really get to see Larah or Elm unless we are training, and we don’t get to sit together during meals.

Lilyana pulls out a gray dress. The neckline plunges low to the navel area. The bodice is fitted, flaring slightly at the hips, and it has a slit running up the side. “What about this? It would make your hair and eyes stand out.”

The gray matches the color of my former prison uniform. It’s perfect. Let people remember that I am a prisoner. I am dangerous and in this trial for a reason. “It’s perfect.” The shop owner said they would send both dresses to the palace later that evening after taking our measurements.

Next, Lilyana takes me to a jewelry shop, where she buys earrings and a necklace to match her dress. I find myself admiring a pair of black, teardrop-shaped earrings adorned with dark jewels—the most beautiful earrings I’ve ever seen. But as I look at them, a strange sensation washes over me, like someone is watching. I glance around the shop, but it’s just Lilyana, the shop owner, and me. Odd. I refuse to let Lilyana buy the earrings, insisting the dress is already more than enough.

She drags me to one more shop, overflowing with the scents of bath oils, soaps, and perfumes. As much as I love the fragrances, I again refuse to let her buy anything for me.

Overall, I find myself enjoying the day more than I expected. Lilyana is quirky and genuinely funny. If she weren’t a royal, I could see us becoming real friends. But I can’t shake the thought: How can I possibly spare her when the plan is to eliminate them all? It is a shame I have to kill her.

* * *

I wake up in the morning to Sasha bringing in loads of oils, soaps, and perfumes—all the ones I liked yesterday. Despite telling Lilyana I didn’t want any, she must have gone back and bought them. The black raspberry vanilla scent is my favorite. It smells heavenly.

After breakfast, all the contestants are sent to train outside. Exhaustion weighs on me after yesterday’s events: training, the incident with Lukene, then walking around with Lilyana. The realization that I have to face Lukene again grips me. Was he the one who caught me yesterday before I fell? It doesn’t make him any less of a monster.

I take a deep, cleansing breath, trying to calm the rapid beat of my heart as we walk out to the training ground where a lot of the guards, the captains, and Lukene are waiting for us. Everyone goes off into their pairs. I approach Lukene, bowing silently, desperately trying not to think of him gutting that man.

“Have you used a bow before?” he asks.

My stomach feels like it’s twisting in knots. My words falter. It’s as if I forget how to speak, so I shake my head. He walks me over to the table where he grabs a bow and a quiver of arrows. As we make our way to the targets, I keep my eyes glued to the ground, but I can feel his stare. He is a monster—and to think I tried to spare him.

We make it to the targets, and he shows me how to load the arrow into the bow and pull it back to shoot it. Is there anything this man can’t do? I begin to struggle with holding the arrow and pulling the string back, while feeling the weight of his unrelentingly burning gaze. I attempt to shoot the arrow, but drop it clumsily with my fumbling fingers.

Lukene comes up behind me, pressing his chest into my back. I go rigid, my skin suddenly slick with sweat. I feel his warm breath on my neck, catching each nerve ending on fire from his proximity. I am sure he can feel the rapid pace of my heart through my back, as my inhalations become deeper and more pronounced. He is dangerous in an alluring way, a way that captivates you, but also haunts your nightmares.

He angles my body and wraps his thick, muscular arms around me while guiding my hands on the bow to position them properly. His hands are warm and calloused as his towering frame leans down, close to my ear and whispers, “See. You need to place your hands here… and here,” his voice low and intimate. His breath caresses my ear, sending a tingling sensation skipping down my spine. Warmth blooms throughout me as I get the feeling of tiny butterflies flapping in my stomach, which is a feeling unfamiliar to me, and also unsettling.

I don’t think I am even breathing at this point. His scent is suddenly overwhelming, yet intoxicating. He smells of wood, leather, and a hint of citrus. My heart is pounding heavily in my ears, it’s the only thing I can hear. Then, he places a hand on top of mine, his fingers brush over my sensitive skin after he adjusts them, guiding me in pulling the arrow back.

Once I’m in proper position, he steps away. I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, exhaling a blend of emotions and his lingering scent. Turning to look at him, I wonder how easy it would be to aim the arrow at him. Would he dodge it? Would he even see it coming?

“Go ahead. Let it loose at the target. Aim like you would with a throwing knife. Picture my face if it helps,” he says, a grin playing on his lips.

I follow his instructions, aiming the arrow. It lands just outside the center ring. Not bad for my first try. Grinning from ear to ear, I turn to grab another arrow but stop because Lukene is looking at me with an unreadable expression.

“What’s wrong with you today? Is this about yesterday?” he asks, his voice serious, as if he actually cares.

I nod.

“Well, I told you I was sending a healer.” He is serious with that response. He stands there, looking every inch of the Dark Prince he is.

“It’s not about the healing,” I say. “It’s about you gutting a man for looking for his children! You truly are a monster. Your heart is stained black, like your soul. Do you even have a heart?”

He stands impossibly still, the wind tousling his black hair, his expression blank and unreadable. Maybe I have gone too far. Knowing I’ve crossed a line, I walk away from him toward the weapon table, placing the bow down. When I turn, he’s right behind me, closing in on me. It feels like an invisible tether tightens between us, charged and undeniable.

“You do realize he tried to stab me. Me—the prince,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Should I have taken his blade in my gut? Would that make me less of a monster?”

I don’t know how to answer that. It is true I overlooked the fact that the man pulled a dagger on him. But he gutted him. He didn’t need to mercilessly kill him with such brutality. I search his green eyes—for what…I don’t know. He takes a step closer. I take one back, still feeling this tether, this attraction I don’t want.

“Thought so,” he mutters lowly. He takes another step closer, and then another. With each step he advances, I back up until I’m against the tree. He walks right in front of me, so close again, intoxicating me with the lingering notes of wood and leather.

“But you are right, Reckless. I am a monster, and if I had to do it all again, I may have gutted him slower for even thinking he could pull a blade on me.” His eyes are cold, unyielding—the eyes of a soulless killer. I stare in the chilling depths of this Dark Prince’s green eyes and glimpse a void devoid of humanity, a soulless abyss that mirrors the emptiness within his heart.

“I never had a heart. It’s best to remember that.” He slams his right palm into the tree next to my head, making the branches shake. I flinch. He leans down and whispers while looking into my eyes, “To possess a heart is to wield a weapon with a blade dulled by feelings. It’s a vulnerability, I shall never have—one I never wanted for myself, nor will I ever want. Caring for or loving someone exposes a person to having everything torn away and ripped apart. As I declared, it is frailty foreign to me, and a defect I shall forever remain untouched by.”

My breath comes in ragged bursts, my chest moving with each inhale and exhale of breath. How can anyone think of love as a defect? “How lonely that must be? Or are you scared to let someone see you truly and worried about what they would think?” I spoke before I could think better of it.

He backs away, studying me. His gaze travels from my eyes to my mouth, a flicker of temptation and curiosity in his expression.

Then it vanishes, leaving only a blank mask. “I’m leaving for a few days,” he says. “Kylo and James will assist you if needed.” Without another word, he turns and walks away, not once looking back.