Page 210 of Fallen Nocturne

They’re watching their small, exhausted queen trying desperately to survive against an opponent who outclasses her in every way.

Some can’t bear to watch. Others stare with something like pity. The look in their eyes makes it seem as though they are witnessing her funeral instead of her fight.

Finnbheara doesn’t chase immediately. He walks casually, taking his time.

“You can’t hide forever, little queen,” he calls out, his voice carrying across the ravine. “The circle isn’t that big. There’s nowhere to run.”

Rhianelle doesn’t answer him. She’s pressed against the boulder, sword raised, trying to control her breathing. Her hands are shaking again. I can see it from here.

Finnbheara rounds the boulder. Rhianelle bursts from cover, swinging. A desperate attempt to catch him off guard. It almost works, but Finnbheara is too fast and experienced. He blocks, then sweeps his blade low, aiming for her legs. Rhianelle jumps back and barely avoids being hamstrung.

They’re fighting again. Rhianelle is fast too. She must have managed to borrow some speed from a quick summoning. Her golden blade meets his enchanted steel again and again. She matches him blow for blow. The sound echoes through the ravine like a dark song.

For a moment, it almost looks even. But then Finnbheara adjusts and puts more weight behind his strikes. His blade slams into hers with overwhelming force. The Starfall steel holds, but the impact drives Rhianelle backward and lifts her off her feet. His strike sends her flying and she hits the ground hard. Her sword skitters from her grip, landing a few feet away.

“No!” I scream.

Rhianelle tries to get up and crawl toward her weapon. Her hand reaches out, fingers grasping—

But she’s too slow.

Finnbheara is already standing over her.

Laughter erupts again, louder and more vicious this time. The fae side is roaring with it. They’re cheering and celebrating.

“Look at her crawl!”

“She’s like a worm!”

“This is their queen?”

The spectacle has become a cruel humiliation. Finnbheara steps forward. He plants his boot on Rhianelle’s cape and pins her in place. She struggles and pulls, trying to free herself. But the weight holds her.

“It’s over, little queen,” Finnbheara says. His voice isn’t cruel. “You fought bravely. Better than I expected. But this was always how it would end.”

He lifts his other foot and brings it down on her shin. The sound of breaking bone echoes through the ravine.

Crack.

Rhianelle screams. A sound of pure agony tears through the air. Through my chest. Through my soul. Shadow wings erupt from my back. My body launches toward the circle.

“Svenn, no!” Hrolf’s hand closes around my arm. Shade grabs the other. Bas appears in front of me, blocking my path.

“You promised you wouldn’t interfere,” Bas says urgently.

“He broke her leg!” I roar. “He’s killing her! I have to—”

“You promised her, Arescaine,” Bas repeats gently. “I’ve read the rules of the fae Oryth trial.”

I wrench against Hrolf and Shade, nearly dragging them both forward. Bas chooses this moment to lecture me about ancient fae law while Rhianelle lies screaming on the ground.

“This is not the time for one of your clever explanations,” I snarl. “She is suffering. Move.”

Bas doesn’t flinch. He plants both hands against my chest and holds my gaze. “If you cross that line, the circle’s magic will consider it outside assistance. The fight will be forfeited. Aelfheim will lose. She will die as the ash circle claims her life and everything she’s fighting for will be for nothing.”

I know he’s right. But I can still hear her screaming. I see her on the ground, hurt and broken.

“Please,” I beg. “Please, I can’t just watch—”