Kira had done something she shouldn’t have. When the brindled stranger and her enigmatic queen had flashed off into the forest to duel for Malignant, the crownless heir followed stealthily in their pawsteps. She kept her snowy form hidden in the shadows, never close enough to see, huntress instincts tuned to the point of pain in order to stay silent and smooth. Her heart still squeezed painfully when she replayed what had just happened behind glimmering maple irises. Kirastasia had never, ever felt something so acutely. That moment of shocked terror etched itself like a scar in her mind. It fascinated her. Nothing else had ever seemed to stick in her heart, so why should meeting the red-eyed stranger unsettle her so?

Well, like the nosy princess she was, Kira would find out!

The snowbird had never needed to dirty her ivory pelt in battle, so she wasn’t familiar with the way to Quarrels Clearing. When at last she drew near, her eyes widened at the violent claw-marks scuffed into the hard-packed earth, the old smell of blood and sweat. Would they wage war here? In which arena? Still cautious, still quiet, the fishnet punkette had secluded herself in a corner of the forest where she could just barely see Carnival and her opponent circle one another. Her ears perked alertly to catch their harsh words. And then—they fought.

Perhaps it was simply the residual fear lingering in her heart like poison, but Kirastasia was certain she had never seen anything so raw and magnificent in her days. Both wolves battled like professional gladiators, ripping at each other with jarring ferocity. Kira had no idea whom to root for—they were both so incredible! Such beautiful bodies! For a brief second the girl forgot why she’d come in the first place; once she finished salivating she finally got a hold of herself.

By the time Kira had stopped panting, the battle was already over. Carnival tipped her tiara with astonishing dignity. Lucifer picked it up where it dropped . . . was that respect on his handsome features? How intriguing . . . the white witch waited until both champions had exited the stage before trotting back home. She crossed the border just as the flame-painted knight opened his maw to speak.

Hocus was obviously part of the gathering, an odd pup with lavender eyes sitting at her feet. Kira recognized Valkyrie by scent, though she could not recall having seen the savage-looking femme before. Her luminous honey gaze ticked these bodies off one by one . . . but then it fell upon the black form of a girl reeking of Spring Grounds. They had never been a pack she kept tabs on; probably an attitude she adopted from her coldhearted father. And it appeared this lass had met Lucifer before. Interesting.

Of course it was the raven maiden Kira decided to sit next to. The alabaster princess sashayed in as if she had been waiting to enter the whole time, features effortlessly innocent. “Feel free to put me to work, my King.” She could hardly contain the laughter in her liquid voice. “Just be gentle.”