“Then I’ll have to be charming,” I say with a wink.
Caspian flashes me a devilish smirk. “If you can charm the alpha’s only son, then I’m a fucking virgin.”
He laughs, walking away from me. My cheeks burn as red as my hair. I have to get into these trials; alpha’s son or not, I’m going to get in.
“By the way, we need to dye that white streak of hair. It makes you stand out,” he calls back, walking to his door. “Don’t go anywhere, songbird.”
“Like I can!” I shout as he leaves me alone in his apartment.
What the hell, pun intended, have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 6
Lilith Thornblood
A warm breeze drifts over me and drags my hair over my face. I brush the strands back and tuck the now-dyed lock behind my ear. I’m so used to seeing the white streak in the corner of my eye; it’s strange to lose that part of my identity. But if I want to survive in this world, sacrifices must be made.
I lean against the wall surrounding the city and stare up at the tree burning in the near distance. “So… how do we get to the trials?” I ask, glancing at Caspian sitting on the edge of the wall.
“You really are new here, huh?” He twirls a dagger between his fingers while grinning at me. “The roots of the tree are made up of magical ley lines. See that portal at the hallow?” He points the tip of the blade at the archway carved into the hollow of the tree; the portal is filled with sapphire light. “You step into it and think about where you wanna go, then viola, you’re there.”
“That’s pretty neat,” I admit, pushing off the wall. “Then we should get going. How do I look?”
He gives me a slow once-over, taking in my tight black bodysuit and knee-high combat boots that “some” woman left at his after a one-night stand. I guess I should be lucky they fit. Despite the way it clings to my body, it’s extremely flexible and frames my figure perfectly.
“Like a Stormfire,” he says.
I nod. “Good. Now let’s go kick some ass.”
With a shake of his head, Caspian jumps down from the wall, and we make our way towards the tree. To my relief, no one pays us any attention as we stroll through the bustling Inner City. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve learned that this is the main gathering point in Hell. Hell itself is split up into several different realms, and the closer you get to the Fire Realm, the probability of survival is slim; not many people who visit there ever come back.
It’s where Rizer and his pack guard the gates.
An icy chill runs down my spine at the thought of him. I lift my gaze from the ash-covered ground. The shadow of the tree stretches over me, merging with the burning leaves that flutter through the air. Men, women, and shifters alike walk to and from the portal. We join the queue. When it’s our go, Caspian turns to me and holds out a hand.
“Ready, songbird?”
I steal a deep breath and nod. He takes my hand in his, and together we step into the light.
“The Realm of DHT,” Caspian says loudly. DHT: Demon Hunting Trials. I like it.
Magic wraps around us. It caresses and licks every inch of my skin. The light fades from sapphire into a deep, mossy green, and the most beautiful building stands in front of me. It’s more like a palace than anything I’ve seen before, and it towers into the tree above it. Several buildings are surrounding a courtyard we walk through, past lines of wolves who glance our way. The courtyard is filled with green plants and small lights in the dark corners, all the way up the pillars that mark the entrance to the building.
Caspian weaves a path confidently through the entrance. I follow in his wake, all the way through the foyer and into another hall, where a grim-faced male in a green robe awaits us. He stands on a podium where a magical quill scribbles over an old-looking book.
“Name,” the male asks when we stop in front of him, not even glancing up from the book.
Caspian steps forward first. “Caspian Hardling.”
The male looks at the book and then down at Caspian. A derisive smile curls the edge of his thin lips. “Ah, I wondered when you’d show your face. Third time’s a charm, eh?”
The marks on Caspian’s face glow softly and he clenches his jaw. He doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to glare silently at the male. I feel a little bad for him. It must be humiliating not to get into the trials once, never mind twice. After a moment, the unmoving quill scribbles over the parchment, and the male nods for Caspian to pass through the arch behind him.
Sharp, yellow eyes latch on me next. “Name.”
I part my lips to say Lilith but quickly catch the words from escaping. “Autumn French.”
A silence stretches between us. My heart hammers and I watch him check the book for my details. In the corner of my eye, Caspian watches, too, his hand reaching for the dagger at his hip. Autumn’s the name of a girl who went missing from Caeli when I was a little girl. It was the first name that popped into my head.
The male snaps his gaze up to me. “Go on then.” He snaps his fingers for the next person to come forward.
I release a breath and follow Caspian through the double doors. We enter a courtyard surrounded by granite archways and pilasters wrapped in ivy. The ground is covered in grass , and at the far end, a tall male slouches in a throne, drumming his fingers absently on the armrest. He stifles a yawn with a ringed hand and then waves the group of applicants away dismissively. Each one of them look devastated as they
