Rejected Queen by Meg Xuemei X.
CHAPTER 1
Tessa
The war horn blew long and hard, chilling my blood as it announced the opening of the second Underworld Bride Trials.
Crouching atop the remaining floor of a blackened seven-story building that rose from the rubble, I watched slaughter unfold in the old war zone of Manhattan. This alien city wasn’t like any other place I’d passed by. This metropolitan was slickly modern yet still conservatively old, splendid yet gloomy, passionate and cynical all at once.
I’d been lucky to find a spot sufficient for hiding and monitoring the carnage beneath my feet. I was in no shape to join the mayhem, as I was still shaking inside from my last encounter with Ragnarö, my ex-mate, in the alternative realm Loki and I had been tricked into entering.
If it hadn’t been for Loki, I’d have died or, worse, been dragged back to the Ice God’s permanent torture dungeon.
Ragnarö had found me and marked me once again. The slave imprint he’d branded me with when I was a child still burned. I’d tried for years to remove the mark and sever the unwanted bond between us, but I hadn’t succeeded. Whenever I tried to carve it out of my skin, it only attracted the attention of Ragnarö’s horrible Jötunn and the bloodhounds.
My hunters might have been reborn and roaming Earth even now, tracking me. I wondered if ice monsters like them could enter the realm of the inferno unharmed. I was more worried for Dux and Fayette. But my team should be safe since I’d arranged to have the Hell Cat bring them to stay with Marigold, my powerful kin.
Even in the heat of the battle, I couldn’t shake off the cold terror Ragnarö pumped into my veins. My throat felt parched at the memory of how helpless I’d been in his icy vice-grip. My fury and hatred could do nothing to him. If Loki’s hellfire hadn’t blasted his hand off me and freed me, I wouldn’t be here right now.
I’d trembled the whole night after facing Ragnarö for the first time in eight years. It wasn’t icy fear that had sunk into my bone marrow; it was soul-eating shame.
Merely two years after Ragnarö had slain my entire family, I’d gradually started to forget about the horror. My white-hot hatred for the usurper Ice King had faded as each day passed, especially at his shows of affection that he didn’t give to anyone else.
He’d brought me all sorts of gifts and knew exactly what I liked and disliked. He’d even taken me to different realms to see wonders—and to show me off at the same time. He’d pluck the stars for me if I ever asked him.
He’d named me his future mate and queen, and I’d tried hard not to think about how I was the rightful queen and the Ice Kingdom was my birthright without his offer.
Every night, he’d come to my princess suite on the top floor of a heavily guarded ice castle to read me stories and to amuse himself. He was the first one to teach me swordplay. I’d started looking forward to his visits, despite how guilty I felt about ignoring my dead family and my vow of revenge.
I’d been a child with no one to turn to, always at his mercy, and he’d been the most gorgeous and powerful being I’d ever seen. Gradually, I’d turned a blind eye to everything I stood for, including my duty to protect the realm and my people, who were now slaves and prisoners.
My infatuation with the Ice God had lasted for years while he was my benefactor and future mate. Then I’d come of age, and he’d decided it was time to break and remold me to fit his sadistic nature and twisted fantasies.
Every night before I went to bed, he’d forced me to watch him bang a woman two feet away. Mostly, he fucked my companion who’d pretended to be my best friend for years, just to see how I handled the double betrayal.
Watching the idol I had worshipped for years turn on me in the cruelest, most humiliating way was a fate more brutal than I could wrap my mind around. It messed me up. And if I hadn’t come from three of the most powerful bloodlines, my soul would’ve twisted, then shattered. I’d have become his creature, and Tessa Morrigan would be no more.
After I’d recognized that was his intention, I’d conjured every power I had and pulled myself back from the brink of destruction. I didn’t break. I didn’t become his creature.
I shifted toward the Morrigan I wanted to become, and every day I grew stronger in secret.
To counter his moves, I’d planned mine meticulously. I’d hidden my true power and nurtured loyal warriors who would guard me with their lives. As soon as I had the power to open a portal for a minute or two, I’d finally managed to escape with my team.
But I’d never really escaped him. He’d never stopped hunting me, and I’d never forgiven myself for desiring my immortal enemy, for not being loyal to my slain family, for showing my weakness to the monster and longing to be his queen.
Deep shame still coated my entire being and was etched into my bones. The shame would burn to ashes only after I’d taken Ragnarö’s head and made sure he never rose again. Only then could I live free.
Screams of pain and cries of terror broke out below the building and jerked me back to the trial.
A giant demoness hacked her axe into another contestant’s chest. Demons and vampires were the biggest bullies, yet they were the biggest cowards as well. They loved to pick on the weak and prey on lone fighters.
I couldn’t make out the victim’s race, but she had a humanoid form. She was probably half human and half something else. I couldn’t help her. In the trial, we were all enemies. A spark of compassion would only get you killed. Those whom you saved could turn on you the next second.
In the end, every contestant would die in the Bride Trials except the champion who would warm Loki’s bed and be his queen.
The image of any other women tangling with Loki between the sheets made my mouth taste like sand and dirt.
My chest ached, my heartstrings taut at the thought of the man I’d tried to kill.
I’d learned at the worst possible moment that he was the fire to my ice, my supposed salvation. The intense attraction between us wasn’t without reason, and fate was a twisted, sadistic dick.
I shook Loki out of my head at the sound of the livid battle cries from the other side of the building’s wrecked wall. I lowered my head and scurried across the rubble-strewn floor, careful not to fall into any jagged gaps, and peeked down over the brink.
A group of valkyries combated a gang of winged creatures. I squinted as I recollected that species from the first trial—they might be what the earthlings called the nephilim, a half-breed of seraphim and humans. The nephilim seemed to be worthy foes for the valkyries. I watched the fight for a few more seconds before I sent my gaze wide, assessing the big picture of the trial.
The war zone included three districts: Chinatown, Little Italy, and SoHo. The line had been drawn at Green Village and East Village. I’d accessed Earth’s history before the trial. Chinatown and Little Italy used to be havens for immigrants.
When I’d passed by the gutted streets to get here and peeked into the broken windows of the shops, I could almost see the old prosperity of this neighborhood before Lucifer had brought the Great Merge to Earth and Ares, the God of War, had giddily declared war on Hell.
The cafés, soap store, flower shops, and an antique boutique along the streets were all abandoned, forgotten already by time and the current generation.
I gathered my stray thoughts and winced as a valkyrie tore off a redheaded nephilim’s wing and then another nephilim hacked off a valkyrie’s shoulder and arm. Blood, red and blue, shot up and splashed onto the dirty ground. I knew that silver-eyed valkyrie. She’d wanted to fight me in the pit during the first trial, but Mallory, who outranked her, had put a stop to it.
For a breath, I wondered if I should go down and help the valkyries since they were in a tight spot fighting a species that seemed to be stronger, but the warrior women had made it clear that they wouldn’t be my allies.
While I hesitated, my sensitive ears caught a slightly high-pitched swooshing sound. Something was coming my way. It took half a second for realization to click into place.
A missile.
The sky brightened in the distance, but it could reach me in the blink of an eye.
A drug lord’s minions had once targeted my team with a missile after we’d taken out their lord.
My skin tightened at the high tension and the gloomy prospect that I might not be able to avoid this hit. But there was no time to think further than get the fuck out of here.
Without wasting another precious nanosecond to look up at the sky and check the path of the rocket, I broke into a dead run toward the closest building. Wind tore at my face and clothes as my speed blinded me. Before I reached the edge, I leapt.
A piercing sound punched my ears as the rocket hit the spot where I’d previously perched. The building cracked instantly. The shockwave reached me in the air, throwing me twenty feet away, toward the edge of a rooftop below.
Chucks of concrete and bits of wood flew my way as a cloud of debris and dust engulfed me. Due to the shockwave, I didn’t land where I’d planned, on relatively flat ground, but bumped into a broken electrical pole before I rolled away into a crouch.
The jutting steel tore through my trench coat all the way to my left ankle. Just my luck, as my armor didn’t cover my ankles. Blood streamed out, soaking through the tear in my left boot. The pain was so sharp that tears filled my eyes.
The building where I’d previously taken shelter rumbled before collapsing altogether amid dust, smoke, and flames. The thundering sound was deafening. My ears ringing, I limped away from the cracked roof toward another exit as fast as my feet could manage.
I’d escaped the missile, but instinctively I knew it wouldn’t be the last.
Someone had followed me and pinpointed my exact position.
Someone had targeted me, wanting me dead badly.
Was it Loki or his gamekeepers?
But why would the King of the Underworld want me dead now, after he’d showered me with affection and protected me a day ago? He’d gone against Ragnarö and pulled me out of that treacherous realm.
Loki had shielded me with his body, and Ragnarö’s ice blade had pierced his shoulder.
The dukes had found us on their king’s secret terrace, utterly shocked at what they saw, and nearly took me for an assassin. The irony was that the truth wasn’t too different. I’d been sent to this realm to kill Lucifer’s son; I just hadn’t acted my part yet.
Or had Loki and his inner circle found out about my true role and now were sending rockets to finish me off before I could make my move against the King of the Underworld?
I picked up the whooshing sound of a second missile.
Ignoring the pain that bloomed from my ankle and radiated through my bones, I sprang toward the edge of the fractured building, tossed a military hook around a boulder, and glided down the rope just as the rocket smashed into the roof.
I let go of my rope. The street rushed to meet me. I rolled over the rough ground, shot up, and dashed past two groups trying to disembowel their adversaries. Before they could train their attention on me, I left the block in a blur.
I put on my top speed, knowing the other contestants on the streets weren’t the missile’s target, but I had no time to ponder the intrigue of why I got special treatment and who might be behind the attack.
My armor couldn’t protect me from a rocket hit, so I needed to lose my tail and hide from whoever was tracking me until the bell rang to announce the end of the second trial.
I darted toward a half-gutted, low-rise building. I’d pretend to cower inside while sneaking out over a toppled wall. When the third rocket hit it, I’d be gone, but while I ran free, the mastermind who controlled the missiles might just think they’d finally gotten me.
I’d have to send word to Dux and Fayette and ask them to investigate the rocket incidents. Marigold would help us. All I needed was to stay alive for the rest of the second trial, which wouldn’t be easy.
Before I reached the perimeter of the wrecked building, two helicopters loomed overhead, flying toward me from opposite directions. I squinted and recognized that they belonged to the media.
This trial was televised, just like the first one.
I’d tried my best to avoid the camera lenses rigged in the streets and the façades of the buildings. But somehow, one or two of the cameras must have caught how I’d escaped the rocket hits, not once but twice.
They must’ve seen my moves that the other supernaturals couldn’t pull off, so they’d sent the helicopters after me to get more exciting shots up close and personal.
Just as I cursed my luck, the billboards on the top facades of the skyscrapers outside the war zone swirled to life. They played a video of me running across the fractured rooftop in a blur, leaping into the air, and touching down on the next building as the previous one collapsed in fire and smoke under the rocket strike. The billboards then inserted shots of the shocked faces of the audience who sat in a sports bar drinking and getting off by watching us kill each other. They cheered at my bravado and shouted their support.
With my super Titan vision, I coldly watched the displays on the distant billboards.
Every viewer, man or woman, was a sick fuck.
They were just like any sick fucks in any universe.
“That’s what we call supernatural,” a human female reporter narrated with a white-toothed smile. “I bet all of you want to know who that silver-and-pink-haired girl who can kick ass is. Let’s go find her. Stay with us. We’ll be right back after the commercial.”
