Chapter 18

18

" H e is the most attractive male I have ever seen!"

"I cannot believe he is staying in our village. Do you think he will be at the moon festival tonight?" A girl around my age gushes about Nykander.

"He will! And he might even enter the competition," her friend says with a conspiratorial grin.

"He is? But what about that female he is with? Won't she be with him?"

"I have not seen them together in weeks. In the beginning, they were doing all their chores together, but now they are on their own. I think something must have happened," the girl whispers.

"That means you have a chance. And if you both win?—"

I stop listening as I slowly back away, more annoyed than anything. Of course Nykander would gain an army of admirers the moment people think he is available. And what do I get? Nothing!

Despite my big proclamations, I have not seen nor spoken with Jeya or any male since then—and not for lack of trying.

If I so much as try to talk to someone, they ignore me and pretend I am not there. With the women, it's even worse. There's no such thing as female solidarity—not even in Akkaya. They are all too enamored with Nykander, and that means I am the competition in their minds.

"Ugh!" I grit aloud as I kick a pebble on my way back to the cabin. "What the hell is so great about him anyway?"

Well, everything but his shining personality.

I continue to mutter obscenities under my breath and curse him for being a wretched man, when I suddenly stop.

A tremor goes down my back, accompanied by a sliver of awareness—almost as if I were being watched. I turn, but I don't see anything.

I shake my head in annoyance.

It's not the first time I've felt like this—as if I had eyes trained on my back. Yet who could it be other than some of those girls in the village who seemingly pity me and hate me at the same time? Although my foolishly romantic heart would wish it were Nykander, it better not be him!

I don't want to see him, talk to him, or otherwise have anything to do with his nasty ass.

He can keep himself away from me until the end, thank you very much.

Since our row weeks ago, Nykander and I have not spoken.

Not even a hello. He has not been sleeping at the cabin either.

As a matter of fact, I have no idea where he is sleeping or what he has been up to.

I sometimes spot him in the village doing his chores, but the moment he notices me around, he drops everything to just stare at me—no doubt to reinforce how much he hates me. I wonder if that's his way to shoo me away, and if it is, it works. I just have to notice those icy eyes of his trained on me and I turn my back and leave.

He has not fed from me since then either, and I do not know how that affects him.

I shake my head as my thoughts threaten to stray in that direction. I no longer care about him. He can be the most handsome man in the entire universe—which he, arguably, is—but that doesn't excuse his abysmal behavior. I never believed someone would be so goddamn mean to my face. I am aware he was trying to drive home the point that he doesn't want me—his body might, but his mind does not. That doesn't mean he needed to be so crude about it.

Yet I have now finally gotten the hint. And in the last few weeks, I have come to terms with the fact that I may always have a weakness about it, but that may very well be because of our bond. Maybe it is not real, just as he implied. As long as we get the artifact from the High Priestess, we will break our bond and we will each go our separate ways. Although, to be honest, I do not know how I will go on with my life after experiencing Akkaya.

I release a deep sigh.

Opening the door to the cabin, I am greeted by PomPom and BonBon and their beaming expressions. My eyes make contact with their feeding bowls and I note the scraps of food there.

I haven't fed them yet today. I just managed to smuggle some chicken. So that means he must have fed them.

Why is he so awful to me but so nice to my dogs?

"Here, babies," I murmur, waving the pieces of chicken around. They follow me to their bowls and watch me as I divide the food equally. They sniff it for a couple of minutes before they relent and dive in.

I slowly step back, plopping down on the bed. The festival is tonight and while I have no reason to attend, I do not want to be rude to the villagers.

I open my small trunk and peruse my options. I don't have many dresses. But I do have the pink one Nykander got for me.

The material is silky and luxurious. Considering I have been on laundry duty a few times now, I can attest that the villagers don't have clothing this nice. I don't know where he got it, but while I appreciated it before, now that feeling has been marred by his behavior toward me. What was his intention? To keep me in good spirits so I would go along with his plan?

Yet no matter how much I'd like to burn this dress for the mere fact that it's from him, I can't.

It's too pretty. The prettiest thing I have here.

"What should I do, PomPom?" I ask my favorite fashion buddy. She hears her name and looks up at me, but she just gives me a shrug before she continues eating.

I guess I will be wearing it after all.

Going to the bathroom, I take off my sweaty work clothes and take a quick shower before I don the pink dress. It has an empire waist and puffed sleeves, with buttons running down the middle. Reaching my ankles, it has a small opening on each leg, the cut making me seem taller.

Glancing at myself in the mirror, I brush my hair and put it up in a messy bun atop my head.

"Your loss, Nykander," I say with a satisfied jerk of my shoulder.

I take a deep breath and charge myself with new confidence.

The festivities are about to begin once the sun sets, which will be any moment now.

The dogs have finished eating, so I take them to potty before I leave them behind at the cabin and make my way toward the village square.

Music is already playing. Someone is singing a beautiful ballad accompanied by a string instrument and what sounds like a trumpet. As I near the square, I note a big bonfire and a crowd of people gathered around it. Drinks and food are being passed around. A girl hands me a glass of ale, and I quickly down it. It's not too strong, but it should help me get through the night—and seeing Nykander again.

More questions flood my mind, the most pervasive being where he slept. I've barely seen him around, which seems rather impossible considering the size of the village. Then again, maybe he is so disgusted by me that he actively avoided me. With his superior senses, that was probably piece of cake.

For a while, nothing happens.

People drink, eat, and dance.

The music is very pleasant, and I tap my foot to the beat, watching from the sidelines as men and women flirt openly, while couples kiss unabashedly. It is surprising, however, to note there are no children. The youngest people are my age. That makes me wonder about the nature of that competition to crown the King and Queen of the Moon and what it might entail.

The moon is full, shining brightly over the raucous crowd and climbing higher into the sky.

"The competition will start soon," a voice speaks from behind.

I turn to see Jeya stop next to me, his eyes on the bonfire.

"What is it?"

"You will have to see. But to enter it, you will have to join the females on the other side." He motions to the right where a bunch of women my age formed a line.

I frown.

"Why?"

"The titles are not dependent upon one another. There is one competition for the King and one for the Queen. At the end, however, there will be a union of the two reigning monarchs of the night."

My eyes widen. If another female wins, she will be paired with Nykander.

"What type of union?"

The word union sounds…suggestive. And if it means what I think it means…

My features darken.

He may not like me, but that does not give him leave to like anyone else. Nor is he allowed to touch anyone else, either. Anger slowly builds inside of me as I think of him being crowned with one of those pretty girls who were whispering about him this morning.

No. He will not get that. I will win this damn competition just so I can publicly reject him and this…union.

I have already reached peak pettiness. What's a little more?

Jeya's lips slowly tip up.

"I have said too much."

"Please explain," I persist.

"This is my cue to leave," he mutters under his breath, disappearing into the crowd.

I stare after him, flabbergasted. What the hell?

The music suddenly stops and the mood shifts. The men gather to the left, while the women are on the right. Those participating in the contest are forming a line and I spot Nykander in the men's section.

Our eyes connect, his gaze harsh and unyielding.

He stares me down, almost as if he wanted to communicate something with his gaze.

Maybe he's pissed—not that he wouldn't have reason. I may or may not have stabbed my hand daily so he can feel the pain too. Petty? Yes. Painful? Another yes, but worth it.

I walk to the right, joining the line of girls at the end. I might not know what this competition entails, but I would love to win just to see Nykander's shocked expression at the fact that this silly little girl could achieve something by herself, without his help. Even more so when I tell him in front of everyone that he is the last man I would have by my side.

My mind is made and I push my chin up, wearing my confidence like I'm wearing this pretty dress—as if it were made for me.

But despite my bravado, awareness pricks at my back, and without even looking back, I know he is staring at me. Or, rather, he is staring a hole through me.

There are ten women in my line and an equal number of men in the line parallel to us.

The bonfire illuminates a circle around where the other villagers take their positions as spectators, their beady eyes following everything closely.

"The Moon Festival will commence shortly," Elijah appears in the middle of the crowd. "Each side will be allowed to vote after every trial. The male side will decide which females remain in the contest and vice versa until we have narrowed down our winners. There will be a total of four trials."

The villagers clap. Murmurs and whispers abound at this change of rules, but it seems it is rather well received.

"The first trial will test skill. The other three will test the senses."

Another round of applause. These people are very eager to see the competition unfold.

"Before I ring the bell for the beginning of the first trial, let us welcome our participants. Females, please state your names."

One by one, the women introduce themselves with a pretty smile, surreptitiously glancing at the male side and batting their lashes. Since everyone is introducing themselves with their full name, when it is my turn, I step forward and state monotonely, "Barbara Bancroft."

A low hum reverberates through the crowd, as well as some less than happy people voicing their displeasure at the fact that I am not smiling or preening around like I should.

I glare at them.

The boos intensify.

Well, I don't think I will be winning any popularity contests.

Alas, I am not in this game because I want to win. I only want to spite that wretched Dark One, maybe even sabotage him a little on the way. God knows he needs someone to take him down a peg.

I step back in the line. It's the men's turn now.

A few of the village men are first, introducing themselves and rolling their shoulders to emphasize their muscles.

I blink.

There is something very specific about these introductions and I feel as though I am not in on the joke.

Nykander's turn comes. His eyes are on me as he steps forward. His hands are behind his back, his back straight as he gazes around as if everyone is beneath him. He has an air of superiority that aggravates me even more. Especially as I note the subtle smirk pulling at his lips.

"Nykander v'Kyró."

My eyes flash.

It's my first time hearing his full name.

Nykander v'Kyró. Somehow it suits him. I wonder what it means…

Cut it out, Barbi! You are not interested in him. You hate him, remember?

I school my features into a dismissive scowl.

He raises a brow at me.

Damn you, you insufferable oaf!

I don't say it aloud, of course. But I do mouth it to him, and with his sensitive senses, he gets it, because that arrogant smile of his widens.

The rest of the males step forward to state their names.

"Wonderful! Welcome, everyone!" Elijah exclaims, and all attention returns to him. "I wish you all luck in this competition and may you find what you seek."

A round of applause ensues.

"For the first trial, you will show off your skills. Choose one skill that recommends you and show it in front of everyone. You have ten minutes to prepare. It is permissible to use your abilities. For this round, one female and one male will be voted off the game!"

The villagers go crazy, and I hear some murmurs about how this is one of their favorite trials.

"Ten minutes start now. Do your best!"

The girls immediately disperse as they run toward their family members for support. They must have known what this trial involved because all are ready. Meanwhile, though, I am the only one left next to the bonfire.

I glance up. The men, too, are getting ready to show off their skill. But while I am slowly freaking out because I don't know what I will do within such a short time frame, Nykander looks wholly relaxed as he leans back against the trunk of a tree and observes the madness around.

Damn it! What am I going to do? I don't want to look like a complete fool and give Nykander more reasons to laugh in my face.

My first thought is to get PomPom and do our dance routine. But she is trained on specific music and I doubt these musicians can play Cardi B. I am sure our number would be well received, but I don't want to take any chances. No matter how smart my baby is, she is still a dog and she can only do as good as her training.

What other skills do I have?

I suppose I could try singing, but there is a fifty-fifty chance I will be booed and dismissed from the competition immediately. Other than that…

I sigh.

My skills run more to the introverted type—the ones I do alone, in the intimacy of my home.

Like writing. But no one will want to listen to me drone about that.

As my mind goes through the list of potential skills I can display, a bulb lights up in my brain.

I slowly search Nykander with my gaze, a little unsettled when I find him staring at me intently—again. I wonder if he's mentally planning how to get me to lose the competition or how to embarrass me further since he seems to derive great pleasure from that.

And that solidifies it for me.

If there is a skill I excel at, it's being petty. And I aim to show him just how petty I can be.

"Ten minutes have passed. Please line up again," Elijah calls out. "We will have one female contestant and one male at a time. Audee, you may commence." He motions to the first girl in line. "Please tell us your skill and demonstrate your talent."

She steps forward, placing herself in front of the bonfire. The fire illuminates her features and her pretty white dress.

"My skill is that I can create a garment out of any piece of material. For that, I have brought here a plain white cloth that I will fashion into an item of clothing." She turns to the males. "Please tell me what you would like me to make."

Somehow, her hopeful gaze lands on Nykander, but he is not even paying attention. No, he is just staring me down with those icy eyes of his.

My lip twitches in annoyance, so I do the only thing a petty person would do. I stick my tongue out at him and look away.

The men propose different items of clothing, and one of them is louder as he says, "Drawers."

I frown at the unfamiliar term.

Audee smiles. She produces a pair of scissors and she begins working, cutting the plain cloth in record time. She then sews a few corners, plaits another few, and in less than five minutes, she waves around the finished product.

A pair of underwear. Male underwear.

Whistles and applauses resound from the audience. The man who'd suggested the item nods appreciatively and gives her a nod of acknowledgment. Audee blushes.

"Well done, Audee. Please return to your place. The next one is Flin."

Audee takes her place back in the line and Flin comes froward, the first in the men's line.

I watch curiously to see what he will come up with.

But just as he rips his shirt from his body to reveal his nicely sculpted muscles, a growl slithers past my ears.

I blink, looking around.

Shrugging, I glance back at Flin, who is now showing off his strength by cutting a block of wood with one strike—half-naked. His performance has the intended effect as the girls in front of me nearly swoon. They talk amongst themselves and praise his looks and strength and deem him the protective type—whatever that is.

Yet I don't get to enjoy the show as every time my gaze lands on his marbled abs, a warning sound blares in my ears. My brows bunch in a frown, turning around to search for the source of the sound, but nothing catches my eye.

What the…

Flin ends his routine and from the girls' side, Loraine is next.

She demonstrates her prowess with a blowing musical instrument, and the men all give her nods of approval.

All but Nykander, who is not even looking at her.

No, he's holding his arms crossed over his body as he glares at me as if I'd done something wrong when he's the asshat in this situation.

My nostrils flare. I narrow my eyes at him and barely refrain from giving him the finger. He wouldn't even know what it means.

The trial continues as the men show off their manly skills while the women focus on their feminine assets—not that there's anything wrong with it. But as I notice a theme arising, I wonder if my idea will work. If I were to lose this contest from the first trial, I doubt I will ever live it down. Nykander will forever mock me for it.

Nykander's turn comes before mine.

He leisurely moves to the center. He's sporting a bored look as he gazes around lazily until his eyes find mine. He doesn't even put in the effort as he allows his black tendrils to slither in the air, a halo of dark mist forming around his body.

His tendrils reach for the wood left behind by Flin, enveloping it in his darkness before turning it into dust.

A chorus of cheers erupts, and for some reason, the girls seem to find that utterly charming. They swoon and praise and make gooey eyes at him.

"He is the most handsome male I have ever laid eyes on," the girl in front of me says—the same one who was singing his praises this morning.

I scoff under my breath.

"He's also rotten to the core."

She turns to glare at me.

"You are just bitter that he dropped you," she sneers at me. "But do not worry. I will be happy to replace you."

"I'd love to see you try."

She huffs aloud, getting ready for her turn.

She walks in front of the bonfire and states that her skill is polishing swords.

My brows go up.

She gets a sword from one of the people on the sidelines, but instead of showing off how she cleans it, she brings the hilt to her mouth. She hollows her cheeks and slides the entire hilt to the back of her throat.

My eyes widen and it dawns on me what type of sword polishing she's hinting at.

The men shout expletives as they stare intently at her performance, clearly imaging it's something else she's polishing.

When she's done, she comes back to the line, giving me a smirk.

"At least you will never be out of a job. Everyone there carries a sword." I point to the other side.

Her lips twitch in annoyance, but she holds her tongue as the next male steps forward to display his talent.

I can't pay attention, though, as I go over my own performance in my mind. In a little while, it's going to be my turn.

Can I do it? Should I do it?

The doubts eat at me. But as I glance at Nykander and his smug look, I decide that screw it.

The man goes back and I am called forward.

"Hello. I am Barbara Bancroft and my skill is being petty."

Silence descends among the villagers.

"Can you explain?" Elijah asks.

"I can withstand any type of pain as long as my enemy feels the same." I smile prettily.

People are still confused.

Removing a small knife from the pocket of my dress, I pull up the sleeve to my shoulder. With the sharp edge of the knife, I carve out letters in my arm, gritting my teeth at the pain.

ASSHOLE—that is what the final word says.

When I'm done, everyone stares at me in shock.

Blood pours to the ground from the gnarly wounds, but I continue to maintain my composure. Especially as my gaze collides with Nykander's thunderous one.

Blood pours down his arm, too, dripping to the ground.

His eyes slowly turn entirely black, his fangs elongating before my eyes.

So this is what weeks of not feeding is doing to him—it's destroying all his self-control.

My wounds heal. A little slower than before since I derive this particular power from the man himself—who is currently salivating for my blood.

"Uhm, Miss Barbara." Elijah blinks. "That is…uhm…impressive?"

I force a smile.

With a swift maneuver of the blade, I slash at my throat. I raise a brow at Nykander just as a slash appears on his own neck.

His jaw is ground tight and he takes a step forward.

I reach to my already closing wound and swipe some of the blood, bringing it to my lips.

I stare at him.

"Delicious," I murmur.

He growls in anger.

I shrug in satisfaction.

Revenge feels good.

He takes another step forward, his hunger bleeding through. The handsome man from before is slowly transforming into a beast.

Yet if I hoped that this would make the other girls dislike him, it has the opposite effect.

They positively drool after him.

I release a deep sigh.

It doesn't matter what world I am in. A tall, dark, and dangerous man is always going to have women fall over themselves. And Nykander is the true definition of that.

With my last wound healed, I bow out and head back to my spot.

The last man goes through his performance and then it's time to vote.

The girls all gather together to debate while the guys do the same. Of course, they all want Nykander to continue.

"Mino should go," one whispers. "His act was the weakest."

"I agree. I've been with him before and his performance is not the best," another agrees.

I'm silent as this goes back and forth since I know my opinion would not be welcomed—especially since it's an unpopular one.

After a few minutes, the girls decide that Mino will be voted out.

On the men's side, they decide that Aida should go, a girl who'd done a demonstration of cooking a dish. To be honest, I am quite surprised it wasn't me, since Aida's skills were more on point than mine.

But I guess no man can resist a little blood.

"Aida, Mino, please make your way to the crowd," Elijah intones.

Once the two eliminated are out of the way, he continues, "The next trial will be based on scent. Females, please follow Greta. Males, please follow me."

The request is strange, but the nine of us follow the elderly woman called Greta to one of the cabins in front. When we get there, the door closes behind us and she voices her request.

"Each of you, hand me your underthings."

No one protests as they raise their skirts to take off their underwear.

"W-what?" I blink in shock.

"Miss Barbara, please remove your underthings."

"I don't?—"

"Miss Barbara?" She raises a brow, her tone unyielding.

Maybe I should quit now. Yes, that would be the most optimal solution.

So why is it that I am actually complying and removing my underwear?

God, I am even pettier than I realized if I'm willing to go this far.