The Underworld Trials of Luna

My breath pants from my lips as the wind and darkness rips around us. We only travel for a few terrifying moments before my feet hit hard against stone and light returns to the world, however dim.

I groan in horror at what I see – at the black sky that stretches for miles in all directions over the black marble terrace on which I stand. A sky lit purple at the horizon, with not a single star in the heavens. But three moons hang low and heavy in the darkness – one round and huge and orange, the others smaller but equally bleak.

“Where…where are we?” I breathe, terrified.

“You are in the Underworld,” says my captor, grinning at my shock and surprise. “What did you expect?”

I just pant, staring at him, completely overwhelmed. This can’t be real.

I shake myself, though, remembering my purpose. “Take me to Redman Blythe,” I order, lifting my chin like the Princess I am. “I want to see my groom.”

“Your groom?” the man says, leaning forward towards me with a wicked grin. “Little Princess, that boy is not your groom. You came to the Underworld to compete for the honor of marrying Prince Orion, son of the God of Death.” He gives a mocking little bow. “It is a great honor to be a candidate in my master’s game.”

“What?” I breathe, horrified and confused at once. “T-the Prince? A game!?”

The man laughs at me, straightening from his bow. “I was quite clear, Princess – it’s not my fault if you didn’t listen closely. You have come to the Underworld to be wed –“

“To marry my fiancé!” I burst out, livid. “Redman Blythe! Who is…is dead, who is here! Why the hell would I come to the Underworld to marry someone I don’t even know!?”

“You came,” the man snaps, “to compete with twenty other women drawn from the distances of time and space to be the Prince’s bride. What you do with the prize given at the end – should you win – is none of my concern. Though,” he tilts his head to the side here, crossing his arms.

“It would be rather traitorous and ironic for you to marry the Prince and then use the wish he gives you as his wedding gift to restore your lover to life. Not to mention a waste, as you’ll live here. Forever.”

I stare at this man in shock for a single moment before I bare my teeth. “This was a trick.”

The man just laughs and shakes his head, truly entertained at my rage.

“No trick,” he says, “just twenty girls, each…unique in their lineage, their abilities. Twenty weeks shall pass, with one girl eliminated each week. And at the end, one bride for the Prince – to rule over the Underworld at his side. And, of course, to produce heirs and continue the master’s dark lineage.”

I snarl at the idea that I’m expected to compete for the honor of being broodmare for some boy in his horrible place.

“I did not,” I seethe, stepping towards him and lifting my chin to renew my glare, “come here to play some ridiculous Bachelor of Death nonsense! You will take home right now!”

“I will take you nowhere,” the man growls, closing the distance between us in a single step and snagging me by the chin. “You have agreed to the terms and you will play. A girl does not make a bargain with the God of Death and simply walk away from it because she decides, too late, that she does not like the terms.”

I stare at this man in shock as I suddenly realize that I have made a terrible, foolish, rash mistake.

And may have paid with my life for the chance to save Blythe.

“Am I dead?” I whisper.

“No, child,” he purrs, stroking one finger along my jaw. “You are very much alive. Precisely as he wants you.”

I stare up at this man, shocked and terrified. My wolf howls desperately in my soul.

The man takes his hand from my face and takes a step away, sighing as if he’s bored. “Tomorrow evening you go to the Palace for the Opening Consort Selection Ceremony, where you will meet the God of Death and the Prince of the Underworld. Try to remember,” he sneers, “that this is a great honor and thousands would kill to take your place –“

“Let them!” I burst out, casting a hand to the side.

He snarls, sharp, cutting me off. “Clothing will be sent for you. Wear it. Do not disgrace yourself.”

He turns then and strides across the wide and luxurious bedroom attached to the terrace, heading for the door.

“Please!” I call, gathering my gown into my hands and stumbling a few frantic steps after him. “Are you – are you just going to leave me here!?”

He flicks his eyes up to me. “The God of Death again hears your prayer,” he murmurs, “and does not wish you to be lonely and afraid. He has given you permission to visit Nightgate, where the other mortals dwell.”

“What?” I whisper. “Where is that?”

My mouth falls open when I discover that we’re in…a tavern. I stare around in shock at the patrons who gather moodily around tables and the worn bar, their conversations lit only by low flickering candles.

The man steps away from me. “Call for me when you’re ready to leave.”

“What?” I gasp, spinning towards me.

He just gives me that foul smirk and disappears.

I turn back to the room, suddenly feeling…incredibly awkward.

But I set my jaw, lifting my chin and looking around, determined to get answers.

I stride over to the bar, pulling myself up onto a stool and looking around for the bartender, figuring that’s as good a place as any to start. I bite my lip, my mind whirring over everything that’s happened in the past hour, let alone the past week, the past few months.

“Well,” says a voice to my left. I glance over at the man on the stool next to me and do a double-take as he pushes a hood away from his face, revealing silky brown hair and rich coffee-colored eyes that scan me from head to foot. “You’re a bit…overdressed for a place like this.”

But I don’t have any words, my lips just parting slightly as I take in what can only be described as…

The most handsome man I have ever seen in my entire life.