Marked (The Coldest Fae Book 3) by Katerina Martinez (great novels of all time .txt) 📕

on the other side of the stones,” Mel said, “Find a wide, open spot. If we do this, we don’t know what the storm will bring with it.”

“Wenlow,” Gullie said, her tone low and dark. “At least that.”

A pulse of dread pushed through the room, dampening whatever happy spirits had lived here a moment ago. “I’ll go talk to him,” I said, “I’ll let you know what he says.”

“We’ll be here.”

Nodding, I headed out of the tent and went to find the Prince—Praxis, however, wasn’t going to make that easy for me.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

 

I’d barely taken five steps out of the tent when he tackled me to the ground like a wrestler. The entire world tipped upside down, I saw the stars and the full moon in the sky, and the next thing I knew I was on my back on the warm, wet earth, with this tank of a man on top of me.

“Get the hell off me!” I yelled.

“I know your secret now,” he breathed against my ear. “You brought the Prince of Windhelm into our camp, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He arched his back and roared. “Liar! I just heard you and your little bitch friends conspiring.” He wound back his arm and made a closed fist with his hand. “Deny it again!”

Oh shit. He really had heard us.

“I challenge you!” I yelled.

Praxis’ eyes widened, and he stopped before he could bring his fist down on me. “You what, whelp?”

Mel and Gullie spilled out of the tent I had just emerged from, and other moon children watched on while this transpired. I thought back to all the stuff Toross had taught me about the moon children, about their practices, their rituals. Once a challenge was offered in the presence of witnesses, it had to be accepted and fought through immediately.

The winner would cement their place in the pack, with the loser becoming their subordinate. A subordinate had to do what their superior said. Assuming no one had heard him oust the Prince and my secret, if I could beat him, he would have to keep it to himself.

If I lost, though, then I would become his bitch—or worse, he could kill me.

“You heard me,” I said, panting, “Under the light of the full moon as it shines tonight, I challenge you. Do you accept?”

Praxis roared again and drove his fist into the wet earth next to my head. He got right up in my face and snarled, his hot, meaty breath breaking against my nose. “So be it.”

The much larger fae got up and dusted himself off. I pushed myself back along the ground and also got to my feet. Already a crowd had gathered. Moon children from all over the village were watching—among them were Mel, Gullie, Ashera, and even the Prince. I locked eyes with him as he emerged from his tent. There were several fae between me and him, but he was trying to make his way over to me.

“Choose your weapon, whelp,” Praxis barked.

I grabbed the dagger strapped to my ankle and drew it. “Choose yours,” I said.

“I don’t need a weapon to beat a scrawny thing like you.”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m the white wolf.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Praxis charged, the massive fae choosing to remain in his human form so he could swing his fists at me. This made him a little easier to deal with than if he’d taken his wolf form—big guys were usually slow. But he’d already put me on the defensive, forcing me to evade, and duck, and weave out of the way of his hooks and uppercuts.

It was almost impossible to find an opening at the rate his fists were flying. Barely more than a few seconds had passed, and I already dodged so much I was starting to get winded. That was part of his plan. Get me tired and panting; slow me down enough that one of his hits would land, because that was all it would take.

He had fists like hams, and if any one of those blows found its mark, I was probably done.

I ducked into a tent, slipping quickly through the opening and throwing the tent flap into Praxis’ path as he came in behind me. By the time he entered the room, I had picked up a furry blanket and tossed it over his head. As he struggled with the blanket, I kicked him in the shin and brought him low, and with a hard shove I threw him to his back.

Instead of attacking him again, I dashed over him to get outside, but he grabbed my foot just as I went past him, and I fell face first into the dirt. A gasp moved through the crowd. The fae weren’t just watching, they were enjoying this—they were entertained by it. That meant nobody was going to stop this from continuing.

I could see the Prince was trying, but Melina had intercepted him and forced him to keep his distance.

Good. For better or worse, I need to do this on my own. I was going to have to beat Praxis on my own. A pretty dress wasn’t going to get me out of this. Fancy feet weren’t going to get me out of this. I had to knock Praxis on his ass and make sure he didn’t get back up, otherwise things were only going to get worse for me before they got better.

I spun around onto my back, sat upright, and tried to pry his hand off my leg, but he had fingers like sausages, and his grip was vice-like. As he came to try to pick himself up, I smashed the heel of my foot into the side of his face. It made a loud, satisfying thud, but I had only burst his lip, and he seemed to have liked it.

“You are weak,” he snarled through a mouthful of blood. “When I’ve beaten you into the ground, I’m going to mark your body in ways that’ll make