“You can’t do that!” Jaxon growls at his father.
Cyrus turns from the mic and tells his son in a low, contemptuous voice, “Stay quiet, boy. You won’t like what lies down that road if you don’t.”
“I don’t care—” Jaxon starts, but he breaks off when I squeeze his hand hard enough to almost break it. Because Hudson is yammering in my head, screaming at me to stop Jaxon, that he has another plan.
Cyrus takes Jaxon’s pause as acceptance and turns back to his audience and continues his speech, but I’m not paying attention to what he says.
“Wait,” I whisper to my mate. “Just give Hudson a second to talk to me.”
“Hudson?” Jaxon asks, his face twisted in disbelief. “You’re going to believe him? My parents’ perfect little minion?”
“It’s not like that,” I tell him, but when he starts to argue, I hold up a surreptitious hand to stop him.
“Challenge for inclusion,” Hudson tells me. “Do it loud and make sure it’s on the record.”
Inclusion? What’s that?
“Just do it before they close the assembly. You don’t have much time.”
“Wait,” I shout, and Cyrus turns, a furious set to his normally placid face at being openly challenged.
I take a deep breath. Am I really going to trust Hudson?
“Do you have a choice?” he huffs.
I don’t. So I shout out as loudly and as clearly as I can, “I challenge for inclusion.”
And the room goes eerily quiet. Oh fuck. What have I done?
“The only thing you could,” Hudson replies, but he’s not looking at me. He’s looking directly at his father, a sly smile curving his lips, like he just called checkmate before his dad even knew he was on the board.
“Inclusion?” Cyrus hisses at me with murder in his eyes.
His reaction only spurs me on. “Yes,” I say again. “I challenge for inclusion.”
“On what grounds?” he demands as the other members of the Circle start to exchange looks.
Yeah, Hudson, on what grounds?
“On the grounds that gargoyles have a rightful seat on the Circle and held one all the way up until their extermination. But don’t use that word because it will just set my father off more.”
What? That’s what inclusion is? I’m calling for a seat on the Circle? I don’t want that!
“It’s that or live in my parents’ dungeon forever. I’ve spent a lot of time down there myself, and I have to say, it’s not a place you want to call home.”
“On what grounds?” Cyrus thunders again, and when I don’t immediately answer, he gives a twisted little smirk and turns back around to face the audience. “Inclusion den—”
“Gargoyles are an equal ruling faction on the Circle by law,” I tell him. “Now that a gargoyle exists again, I have the right to representation. And since I am the only gargoyle in existence, I challenge for inclusion.”
The other Circle members exchange another look, and some of them—like Flint’s parents—are nodding. Even Delilah looks a little pained.
“Do you even know what the challenge is?” he demands.
“It’s a…”
“Trial,” Hudson supplies.
“Trial,” I call out. “It’s a test I have to pass.” Oh shit, I realize. This is what everyone told me about. The reason Ludares came about to begin with.
What have you gotten me into? I demand of Hudson.
“It’s a trial no one ever takes alone, one that only mated pairs can take,” Cyrus tells me. “Therefore—”
“Good thing she has a mate,” Jaxon says, stepping forward. “And we challenge for inclusion. Together.”
Cyrus looks like he’s going to explode and kill us both on the stage, consequences be damned, but then Imogen—one of the witches on the Circle—stands up. “They should have the right to challenge,” she says.
Her mate stands with her. “I agree.”
“So do we,” Nuri and her partner stand as well.
It won’t be enough, I tell Hudson. There won’t be enough votes without the wolves.
“You have a right to a seat by law,” Hudson tells me. “It isn’t up for a vote.”
“By law, a gargoyle has a right to a seat on the Circle. This isn’t up for debate. Or vote.” I hold Cyrus’s gaze and can tell he’s debating his next move carefully.
“Fine,” Cyrus says, the word crackling with rage and indignation. “Your challenge stands. The Trial will take place two days from now at dawn in the arena.”
“Tell him you need more time,” Hudson says urgently. “No way can you be ready in two days—”
“I need more time!” I say.
Cyrus shoots me a malicious look and says, “There is no more time. The Circle cannot afford to linger here as long as your heart desires. It is either two days from now or not at all. You choose.”
“I guess I’ll see you in the arena, then,” I tell him.
He nods, his face once again carefully blank. “That you will.”
As we leave the stage, the audience seems as mixed up as I feel. Some students are clapping and whistling, while others are whispering behind their hands or actively ignoring us—which is a new experience for me here at Katmere, but one I can definitely get behind.
The fewer people who are looking at me, the better. Especially now.
“Well, that went better than expected,” Hudson comments.
“We’re fucked, aren’t we?” I ask.
Both Hudson and Jaxon reply at the same time. “Definitely.”
92
Is It Really a Throw
Down if it Makes
You Want to
Throw Up?
“What did I just do?” I demand as soon as we leave the ceremony and make our way up to Jaxon’s tower. Panic is a living, breathing beast within me, making my hands shake and my brain feel like it’s about to explode. “What did I just do?”
“It’s fine,” Hudson says quickly. “You’re fine.”
“You agreed to compete in the Trials,” Jaxon tells me. “Everyone who gets on the Circle has to compete—and win. That’s why it’s always done as a mated pair, because it’s dangerous.” He pauses. “It’s really dangerous, Grace. And usually deadly. No one has won a seat in a thousand years. Don’t you think people have tried to remove Cyrus before?”