THE MORTAL TRIALS by Megan Shunmugam (EXCERPT)
The Mortal Trials is due for publication from Angry Robot on 14th July 2026. You can pre-order your copy through the Angry Robot website.
Excerpt
I spun on my heel and sprinted for the door.
Kilian groaned behind me, but I didn’t chance a glance back. My feet skidded on the polished tile, and I clawed at the door frame as I hurtled out of the mess hall and into the corridor.
There were no pounding footsteps behind me, or maybe I just couldn’t hear them over the blood rushing in my ears.
I tripped at the end of the corridor, arms flinging forward to grasp at a banister and then I was bolting down the staircase. I didn’t have a second to consider where I might be going, only believed that if I reached the bottom, I’d surely end up outside.
My breaths came out short and sharp as I flew down the stairs, hand trailing over the banister so I wouldn’t trip and roll down each flight.
I glanced over my shoulder, panicked, but the staircase was empty.
I paused for a second, catching my breath, and then I continued. A bit slower this time, ears straining.
When I reached the very bottom of the stairwell, I cracked open the door, peering out. A blast of cold air immediately hit me, and I shivered, my teeth chattering. The interior of the house was definitely temperature regulated because it was freezing outside.
Stone pillars were the first thing I saw. The floor was a checkered slab of white marble and grey granite, and large columns towered at regular intervals on the outer edges.
I peered up at the ceiling where a fresco of a battle scene was depicted in great detail.
From what I could see, there was a courtyard beyond. It was empty.
I still didn’t know what I would even do if I escaped, but I’d consider it afterwards. If I managed to make it through the courtyard.
I steeled myself to make a mad dash for it.
I made it to the pillars before a set of arms wrenched me back and quite literally, off the ground.
“Let me go!” I yelled. My words echoed off the columns and bled out into the vacant courtyard.
“Every decade, one of you tries to run,” he muttered. “That one has, in fact, become a bet. And I’ve had my money on you since I first saw you.”
I squirmed in his arms, grunting as I tried to free one from his iron grip.
“What’s your plan?” His voice was at my ear.
“Like I’d fucking tell you.” I tried jabbing at his ribs but only met solid armor.
He snorted. “You can’t, because you don’t have one.”
My fingers closed around the hilt of something strapped at his side. I couldn’t see what I was drawing out of its sheath, but it felt light enough to be a dagger. “I have a plan. It starts with killing you.”
I thrust blindly, aiming for whatever flesh I could find, and hitting metal instead.
Kilian’s hand clamped over mine and he twisted my wrist. It didn’t hurt but the angle loosened my grip, and he easily yanked the dagger from me.
“With my own weapon, no less?” He tutted. “How original.”
“I’m making the most with what I have at my disposal. It’s called being resourceful.”
“Ah, I see. I imagine this resourcefulness will come in handy when you’re out in Lortan, struggling to find shelter and food that won’t poison you.”
“That’s my problem. Not yours.”
“I hate to break it to you, but once you accepted the oath, you became my problem.”
“So unlink us then. Problem fucking solved.”
“I can’t. It’s binding. You accepted it.”
“That was before I knew how invasive it would be. I had no choice.”
“Semantics. It’s too late to back out now. Bad things happen to those who break oaths.”
I gave one more shove at his arms.
He released me.
I stumbled forward, clutching at the nearest column to steady myself.
Kilian passed by casually, dagger in hand. A glint of ruby caught my eye and my jaw dropped.
“That’s my dagger.”
“Is it?” he asked mildly.
“Yes.” The fucking audacity. I was a hairsbreadth away from stomping my foot in rage. “Give it back!”
“I quite like it.”
“It’s mine!”
“How about we make a deal? You go back inside, like a good candidate, and I’ll return the dagger?”
My eyes narrowed. “You can’t make deals over things that don’t belong to you.”
He waved a haphazard hand. “My house, my rules.”
Anger swelled like a rising tide, swift and brutal. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He turned in the center of the courtyard to look at me. He spread his arms wide. “Where else will you go?”
I stepped off the marble and granite, cold air kissing my cheeks, as my gaze flitted around the surroundings.
Snowy summits enclosed us, bleak, white and endless. Valhan House was nestled somewhere in between two slopes and was imposing in both size and structure. It was triple the size of the governor’s house in Serila and striking in its architecture, grandiose in something reminiscent of another time.
I swallowed, turning back to find Kilian staring at me.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll be lucky and find someone who’ll help me survive. The elven can’t all be soulless monsters like you.”
He huffed in what could have been construed laughter. “None of them will help you. They’re all as invested in the outcome of the Trials as I am.”
“Why?” I glared at him.
He gave me a bored look. “Because they care about saving the world.”
My lip curled. Of course he was going to give me some sarcastic, illogical response.
“We’re wasting time out here,” he drawled. “Everyone else has already started on the training, so if you’re done trying to escape, can we go back inside?”
I pressed my lips together, trying to figure out my next course of action. How I might wrest my dagger from him and drive it into his nearest artery. Anger simmered just beneath my skin at how absolutely powerless I was over the situation. I had zero control over what happened to me, or when it happened.
Even if I did somehow manage to get away, Kilian was right. Where would I sleep tonight? The air was so frigid I feared I might become hypothermic if I stayed out in the courtyard for another few minutes. What would I eat? Elven food was toxic to the mortal digestive system. I’d be dead in minutes. In fact, I was struggling to come up with a solution that did not result in me dying in minutes.
The glaringly obvious one was, of course, returning inside and continuing with the Trials.
“Your lips are turning blue,” Kilian remarked.
My teeth clattered against each other, and I just barely resisted rubbing my hands over the thin fabric of my long-sleeve.
“You’re not going to make me haul you over my shoulder and carry you back inside, are you?”
The fight sizzled out of me somewhat, as the ice seeped into my bones and lodged itself in my marrow. My survival instincts shuffled around, recognizing not freezing to death as an immediate priority.
I crossed to him and reached for my dagger. To my surprise, he didn’t resist. I stared at him, warily, as I sheathed it into my belt loop.
“Come on then,” he said, like I was a sheep he was herding back into its pen.
I’d tried to escape, but I knew a lost cause when I saw one. The cards had never been stacked in my favor.
The Mortal Trials is due for publication from Angry Robot on 14th July 2026. You can pre-order your copy through the Angry Robot website.

From debut author Megan Shunmugam comes a dark and spicy epic romantasy, perfect for fans of ACOTAR and From Blood and Ash.