Page 21 of Enchanting the Fae Queen

An arrow whistled above her head as she ran, followed by a muffled but powerful expulsion of human breath. She jerked to a halt and turned back. Gerard’s broad shoulders blocked the mouth of her path as he stood, strong legs planted firmly, grappling with one of the taller fae.

Immediately, she started back to help—

But the impatient jerk of his head spoke louder than any shout.

Curse the man! Of course he would believe he could take on two high fae without her help—but then, he was a master of military strategy, wasn’t he? And he was right: The other two fae did have longer legs than Lorelei. Set on the same path, they’d overtake her in moments. Her only chance now lay in the others being slowed—and Lorelei and Gerard had been partners all the way. She could hardly refuse to trust him just when he’d won them both a real chance at victory.

Sylvana keep him safe! Some emotion that felt sickeningly like real, personal fear rose within her—but Lorelei whirled back into the darkness and ran.

She was here to win. When she did, every fae—including her mother—would understand exactly how well she still fit here.

Hedges rose around her in zigzagging formations, but she took every corner without a stumble. Tangling whips of thorns lashed out to block her. She leapt high over them, took the final curve—and stumbled to a halt just before she could run into a dead end.

A wall of leaves rose high before her, rustling a warning.

There was nowhere else to turn.

She stared in open-mouthed shock. She’d been so certain of her path! She hadn’t even sensed this final part of the hedge waiting for her as she’d neared it. What had she done wrong?

Tipping her head back, she gazed up once again at that night sky …

And then her lips curved into a smirk of satisfaction as she took in, once more, those three guiding constellations. Of course.

To follow the Older Sister home and claim the crown, she would have to turn the key.

Lorelei knew exactly why she hadn’t sensed this final hedge. It wasn’t a green, growing wall, after all. It was a door cloaked in illusion.

Which means … Stepping forward, she lifted her chin and reached into the rustling hedge with perfect confidence. Let’s turn that key.

Her hands moved through the perfect simulation of branches … and a quiet but definite click sounded in the darkness.

The applause of the crowd broke over her in a roaring wave as she stepped through the glamoured door onto the end of the field, only a few feet before the throne where Oberon sat with a false smile fixed on his deceitful face and a feather of shining silver laid across a pillow of orange leaves on his lap.

“We have a winner for this challenge,” he drawled. “How … delightful to see you so pleased with yourself, Sister. I take it you’ll be wearing this feather in your hair to show off among the mortals you’ve always preferred?”

“Oh, Oberon. So wrong, as usual, about so many things.” Lorelei lifted a hand, smiling for the crowds of applauding fae; she didn’t spare Oberon a second glance. “I could explain it to you, but I don’t care enough for your opinion, so … yes!”

She had left the door from the maze hanging wide open when she’d run through it—and she’d known, oh she had known who would be the next to emerge through it, despite all the odds.

Transported into an unfamiliar realm, forced to fight from the weakest possible position against multiple fae opponents, Gerard de Moireul was still ready to conquer any battlefield. He strode out onto the field with the air of a man who knew it.

The billowing sleeves of his silky red tunic had been shredded by thorns.

Dirt and bruises covered the hard lines of his face.

As he stepped onto the grass of the field, the last of the true day’s light hit his thick, golden hair and made it glow … and his amber gaze moved straight to her, with a gleam in his eyes she’d never seen before.

“This reward is for both of us,” she announced to the watching crowd, and she scooped the silver feather from Oberon’s lap to hand it herself to her prisoner-turned-partner. “We won it together.”

11

Gerard had built a reputation as a patient man but a relentless opponent. At the close of the first day of trials in the Tournament of Leaves, he had to exercise every ounce of his patience to wait through the hours of celebratory feasting that were apparently deemed necessary. As massive bonfires shot hot orange sparks impossibly high into the darkness, he ate delectable new food with methodical precision, watched the flying, dancing, and celebrating fae all around him with courteous attention, and refused to acknowledge any of the deeply disturbing feelings trying to riot underneath his skin.

When the feasting did finally come to a close, it was followed by a full hour of matchless singing from eerily beautiful fae voices and then a demonstration of new magics from younger members of the court. Illusion followed upon staggering illusion; wonder eclipsed breathtaking wonder; and he took it all in with the air of impenetrable calm he’d perfected decades earlier. Only inside were his emotions heating to a boiling point.

After every disorienting turn of this day, he had questions that needed answers. Patient or not, he would not wait forever to claim solid ground once more!

Lorelei had been flitting from one bonfire to another all night long, shining and gay and carefree in the leaping light of the flames, like a colorful butterfly that could never be pinned down. Everywhere she went, she was greeted by cries of welcome from creatures of all shapes and descriptions; everyone she spoke to was the glad recipient of her glowing, vibrant warmth.