I have never really belonged anywhere. Never truly been respected by anyone. That ends today.

I stand at the entrance to the trials with the others. Some have already formed alliances, and maybe it will help them get through, but the inscription above the archway should act as a warning to them.

Only the strongest can survive. Only the strongest can rule.

That’s the whole point. In the end, they will be forced to turn on each other because there can be only one survivor, and they will be king, as the Mother decreed through the mouths of the oracles. 

There are no friends here, only competition. People to use and betray. That’s no way to rule.

I refuse to be like them. I will not make attachments, and I will not betray the trust of another. If I am to win—and I will win—it will be with integrity, honour, and on my own. If I am to unite the courts, there must be no question of my character.

I chance a look to my left and behold the most beautiful face I have ever seen, with ice-blue eyes and black hair that shimmers like the wings of a raven. Not here. Not now.

She speaks to me with a soft voice that doesn’t belong at the entrance of the deadliest of trials. “It has been said that the oracles’ proclamation alludes to two victors that will rule together.”

“I’ve heard the rumours of that interpretation.” I try to keep my voice flat and dismissive, looking anywhere but those piercing blue eyes.

“They also say that all fated bonds exist for a reason.”

“I’ve heard that too,” I reply.

“So what are the chances…”

Before she can finish the question, a hush ripples through the crowd. She slips her hand into mine, and it feels both foreign and familiar at the same time. It feels like comfort, and reassurance, and empowerment. For the first time, I truly believe I can do this.

The stone doors scrape open. I take one final look at my mate. It is time.