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.

I jump and blush when the bartender clears his throat, because I’d been so busy staring at the tall, broad-shouldered stranger that I didn’t even notice that the bartender arrived.

“All right, little lady,” the bartender says, smirking at me and leaning against the bar. “What’ll it be?”

“Um,” I say, ”I’ll have a glass of white wine?”

“There’s no wine here, missy,” the bartender says with a sigh, leaning forward towards me. “There are no grapes. What, newly arrived from an earth dimension?”

I just stare at him because…what’s an earth dimension?

The bartender smirks at me and shakes his head, glancing back at my neighbor. “She must be brand spanking new.” The stranger hums in agreement.

I scowl a little, folding my hands in my lap, embarrassed. “Well, what can I have?”

“Liquor,” the man says, giving me a nod. “Or, what the locals call beer but…” he grimaces and leans towards me. “If it’s your first day in the underworld you’ll want to…avoid that.”

“Okay,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “I’ll have…whatever you recommend.”

The bartender nods and produces a short glass. He sloshes some clear liquid into it from a cloudy bottle, pushing it towards me before he walks away.

“To your first day,” the stranger says, lifting his glass towards me.

I turn towards the stranger, curious, studying his face as I lift my glass and clink it against his. My eyes eagerly move over the sharp line of his jaw, his high cheekbones, his dark, slightly glowering brows…

But then I blush, remembering that I’m here in the Underworld to find my fiancé and bring him back to life. Not to ogle strangers.

“Bottoms up,” the stranger murmurs, smirking a bit at my pink cheeks. I do as he does, lifting the glass to my mouth and tossing the liquor back –

But I gasp immediately as the liquor absolutely singes its way down my throat. I sputter and choke, spilling the rest of the glass down my front in my desperation to get it away from me as I cough and hack so hard I see stars, trying desperately to draw breath.

“Whoa, girl!” the stranger says, patting me on the back with one hand as the other goes to my shoulder, keeping me on my stool.

Red-faced and still coughing into my fist, I glance up at him, both embarrassed and pissed. “What the hell is this!?” I rasp, gesturing towards my now-empty glass.

“It’s shadowroot liquor,” the man says, and I scowl again when I see him smirking. “Pretty much the only thing that grows here.”

“And you didn’t think to warn me?” I gasp more air down, starting to feel my head spin.

“Didn’t think you wanted to be warned,” he murmurs, signaling the bartender to refill his glass. “After all, a girl who sits at the bar in a black wedding gown but no groom in sight seems like she’s kind of…on a mission.”

I sigh sharply through my nose, looking down at my dress, now covered in sticky liquor. “Don’t get me started.”

“Don’t need to,” the stranger says as the bartender makes his way over. “I already know. You’re one of the Prince’s twenty brides, aren’t you?”

I whip my head up to stare at stranger in complete shock as he orders two more glasses of liquor, requesting that the bartender add some cherries to mine to make it more palatable. The bartender hesitates, glancing at me, but the stranger just waves a hand.

“How…” I whisper, my words coming back to me as the handsome stranger turns his attention back to me. “How the hell did you know that?”

“We don’t get a lot of new people here,” he murmurs, looking around the bar at the collection of particularly dull and despondent patrons. “And suddenly a bride shows up, alone, the day before the Ceremony?” He shrugs like it wasn’t much of a puzzle.

“Well,” I say slowly, looking askance at the drink the bartender puts before me, which is now the color of a garnet, a few cherries sunk at the bottom.

Eagerly I begin and find that my tongue is looser than I thought it would be. I spill everything out to this strange man, who lets me talk unimpeded. I tell him all of my great lost love, who died in the war – of wearing this dress to Blythe’s funeral, even though no one understood that I’m half widow half bride – of rashly accepting this horrible deal so I can save him – of finding myself here in the Underworld, of all terrible places.

“So, I was tricked!” I say, gesturing wide with the hand that now holds my half-full glass of cherries and liquor. The handsome stranger smirks, reaching out to catch my wrist so I don’t splash it everywhere. I frown as I look at his hand, and then at the drink because…when did I pick that up?

And when did I drink it?

“You were tricked?” he murmurs, putting me back on track.

I turn towards him with a frown.

“And what do you think of this Prince?” he asks, leaning against the bar and raising a brow at me. “No interest in marrying him?”

“Obviously not,” I say, appalled at the idea. “One, because I love my boyfriend, and two,” I swallow hard, suddenly parched, “what kind of loser needs his dad to organize a game so he can get married?”

The stranger huffs out a laugh, his eyes narrowing.

“Seriously he must be like, deeply ugly, in the face,” I say, gesturing towards my own face as I take a sip from my drink. “And boring and stupid with a bad personality. I mean, what kind of pathetic man has to trick twenty girls into a competition for the dubious honor of having his kids!?”

The stranger grins at me, a dark and cunning expression. “So, then you definitely don’t want to marry the Prince?”

“If I wasn’t tied to this stupid deal,” I whisper, leaning towards him and shaking my head, surprised to find that my words are more than slightly slurred, “and the fact that I gotta win to get the wish at the end…I’d run away screaming! I’d rather die than marry that idiot, whoever he is.”

“Well,” the man says, leaning a bit closer now, giving me a smile that shows all of his teeth. “You’re in the Underworld now, aren’t you? Perhaps that can be arranged.”

**

“Okay, little girl,” the bartender says with a sigh, shaking his head at me. “Time for you to get home and sleep this off.”

I wipe roughly at my face with the back of my hand and nearly falling off my stool.The man disappears. “What happened?”

“Shadowroot is about six to eight times stronger than whatever you were drinking on Earth, little lady,” the bartender says, giving me a sad smile. “You gotta watch yourself down here.”

“Hey, who was that guy?” I ask, wrinkling my nose at the bartender and leaning close. “He was cute.”

“Oh, sugar,” the bartender says, leaning forward to pat me on my cheek. “You don’t want to know.”

I groan when I wake up in the morning, immediately clutching my pounding head and rolling over in the blankets that are spread beneath me on the bathroom floor.

I pant a little, working my sticky tongue in my mouth, desperate for some water – but god, every time I move it’s agony –

I moan, disgusted with myself and in absolute physical agony. My wolf gives a sad little yip, laying prone in my soul.

A few minutes pass as I clean myself up, brushing my teeth with a toothbrush I find by the sink and guzzling down a few glasses of water. That done, I allow myself to sink back down to the floor, staring up at the black marble ceiling, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do next.

God, things have gotten very bad very fast, haven’t they?

I mean, I don’t regret coming to save Blythe and I’m still determined to do it, but even if I do win the Prince’s hand and get the wish, I’ll just be sending Blythe back to life when I’m stuck here.

How does that solve anything?

I press my eyes shut, feeling sick and alone and overwhelmed.

I miss my mother with a sudden urgency that surprises me as I remember her face, the fear on it when she saw me make the deal and disappear. Because my family will be frantic now and even if I did want to leave royal life – I never wanted to hurt them.

As I think mournfully of my mother, who I know would do anything to help me right now, I remember quite suddenly that temple I was taken from isn’t dedicated to just any Goddess – it’s to my grandmother, the woman responsible for blessing my mom with her healing magic.

That lineage has got to be good for something, right?

“Um,” I say, sitting up and feeling awkward as I call out to the air around me. “Grandma?”

I look around, feeling foolish when there’s no response from the Goddess, who hasn’t exactly been present in my life. But then I press my eyes shut, thinking that there’s no real harm in a little prayer. “Um, I’m…all alone here and kind of in a sticky situation. I know that you’re busy but…if there’s anything you can do to help me?”

I hold my breath for a second, but when silence reigns I just sigh and lay down on the ground, disappointed and exhausted. My head still pounds so I keep my eyes shut, letting my mind turn over my problems while my body rests.

I start a little at the sound of a windchime tinkling in the air, thinking that’s a bit of a strange accessory for the Underworld. But I let it slip out of my mind, yawning, letting my eyes drift open and turning my head back towards the ceiling.

But the ceiling isn’t there.

No, instead, I find myself staring up into a huge pair of eyes staring curiously down into mine.

I shriek in terror, skittering away from the gigantic blue wolf standing with his muzzle just inches from my face.

He flinches too, leaping back as I scurry to the wall of the bathroom, pressing my back up against it. Panting with fear, I stare at him, completely shocked – because how the hell did a wolf get in here!?

But as he stares back at me I realize that he’s not snarling or even moving towards me. And he’s also not even…real.

My mouth falls open as I peer closer and realize that the wolf is…transparent, and blue, the visible lines of his body and his fur traced out in shining blue and white light. That he’s also a little bit…sparkly. “What…what are you!?”

The wolf lifts one huge paw, moving towards me, and I shriek again, my hands flying out to protect myself.

The wolf jumps at the sound, freezing, and then, hesitating, takes a step back.

We stare at each other for a long time before he sits. And then he lays down, resting his face on his paws with a sigh. I turn my head at him, my face twisting in confusion because…can wolves sigh?

He turns his head, looking away towards the door and I suddenly notice that he has – of all bizarre things – a blue ribbon around his neck.

And attached to it…a note.

Slowly, I force myself to inch towards the wolf, terrified. But he just watches me come, making no move. Keeping an eye on his muzzle, surely filled with razor-sharp teeth, I reach for the ribbon. My fingers pass right through the wolf’s fur where I touch it as if it’s just light and air.

But the ribbon is solid. I untie it, sliding the note off of his neck and into my hands.

Then, fascinated, I plop down on the floor next to the wolf, unfolding the little note and reading it with wide eyes. He lifts his head, likewise interested, peering at the script.

A gift for my granddaughter.

I turn the note over, looking for more but…there’s nothing.

“You’re for me?” I whisper, a little awed, looking up at the wolf.

He huffs, rolling his eyes, but makes no protest.

Cheer and hope fill me and I bite my lip, grinning at my wolf. “Please don’t bite me,” I whisper, leaning forward towards him.

He huffs again, turning his face away like he thinks it’s a stupid request. I hesitate but then stretch my fingers out, trying to stroke his fur. And while I feel the barest tingle on my skin, my fingertips again pass through him as if through air. My own wolf peers at this strange ghost before us, frustrated when she can’t get a whiff of his scent because, of course, it doesn’t exist.

I take a deep breath, grinning at my weird present, getting to my feet and suddenly feeling much better. It can’t mean nothing, right, that the Goddess heard my prayer and listened?

Perhaps things are looking up.

Quite suddenly I want a bath - to be clean and fresh. Once that’s done I’ll figure out what this wolf can do and come up with a plan.

I turn towards the corner of the room where a huge tub sits – nearly the size of a pool and built into the open wall of the terrace. I sigh happily, infused with hope, stepping towards the tub and flipping on the taps to fill it. Then I reach for the laces at the back of my dress.

A nervous whine sounds behind me and my inner wolf turns towards it, curious. But I concentrate on unlacing my gown, which slips down over my shoulders.

“Um!” The word rings out behind me, incredibly anxious.

My eyes flare wide as I spin towards the sound, my jaw dropping open when I see not the ghost wolf standing in the bathroom behind me where I left him.

But, in his place – likewise shining blue and transparent – a boy.

A boy!

I gasp, clutching my dress to my chest, appalled.

“Please,” he says, holding out a hand and grimacing. “You…you might not want to do that.”