Iwas less surprised than I should have been when Draven told me about the attack.
Hadn’t I been waiting for the other shoe to drop?
The icy fingers of dread along my spine only intensified with every moment they were gone, but I didn’t want to distract Draven by prying into his mind. I had been halfway out the door to get dressed so I could at least help care for the shards-damned villagers when my mana flared, shadows snaking out across the floor before Batty could zap them into submission.
So I asked Mirelda to oversee the villagers as best she could in my sister’s absence. Other than that, there was nothing, not a frostforsaken single thing that I could do like this.
The room had color now. Signs of life, ofourpresence here, from the deep-purple throws on the armchairs by the fire to the books piled on the table next to it. Draven had taken to writing his missives while I read at night, so there was an elegantly carved quill next to a pot of ink and several small sheets of parchment neatly stacked by the haphazard pile of books.
Even Batty had a plush velvet pillow, silvery-lavender and squashed next to mine on the bed, since she adamantly refusedto sleep hanging from the rafters like every other skathryn in the known world.
Finally, there were signs of life here, evidence that we had lived instead of an endless, sterile expanse. It was supposed to be comforting, in case I didn’t make it past the war, but now all I felt was the oppressive, unthinkable possibility that Draven would never again return to our space.
He had fought monsters before, but something in the tightness of my chest wouldn’t let me believe that this was just another ordinary run-in with the frostbeasts.
With nothing else to do, I paced in an endless, frustrated loop, rubbing my thumb along my ring to assure myself that it was still there, still just its usual amount of cold.
Over and over, I told myself that Draven was safe, and so was my sister. Nevara would wake. Everything would be all right.
I repeated the words like a mantra, but every time they tasted like a lie.
Anxiety clawed at my stomach, my breath coming in uneven pants. My mana crashed against my bones in waves that were more intense and more agonizing with each one, while my wings pulsated with the need to emerge.
I dug my talons into my fists, cursing the maelstrom of power in my body that still left me so, so useless.
I was so consumed with my anxiety that I was slower than I should have been to notice when Lumen’s hackles started to stand on end.
It wasn’t until Batty trilled a warning in my ear and the wolf let out a low whine that I registered the sounds of a muted scrape from just outside the window.
I pressed myself against the side wall just in time for the window to crash open on its hinges, a winged figure standing shadowed in the frame.
Lumen leapt in between me and the assailant, teeth bared in a snarl, only to freeze where he stood.
No, not frozen. He was rooted to the spot.
Morta Mea?Draven’s voice was frantic in my head, so I sent back a vague thought that I wasn’t in danger. And I wasn’t, that much I was sure of. The question was how much danger the rest of the palace was in.
Because I would know that mana anywhere, even before two slim hands rose to push back the velvet cape, revealing flawless features under an obsidian warrior’s braid.
“Mother,” I breathed. “What are you doing here?”
Relief at seeing her safe and alive warred with the tightening feeling in my chest at what her being here could possibly mean.
The wards here were driven by intent, so she must not have plans to harm anyone here, but why had she taken the chance of getting caught—of getting killed to come to the Winter Palace?
“There isn’t much time to explain,” she said, stepping down into the room in a single fluid motion that belied every minute of her warrior’s training. “But your uncle has united the clans, and they plan to attack.”
Had she come all this way to tell me what she had already sent a messenger for?
“Kaelen told us he might, and we’ve been preparing,” I reassured her, holding out my hands in a calming gesture
“No.” She shook her head sharply. “Not just the Skaldwings. The Lupines, the Shadeclaws, and even the Thornharts.”
My face went pale. “How is that possible?”
Lupines were always ready to jump into a fray, and the Shadeclaws were opportunists. They would come if they felt like the battle was sure. But the Thornharts… the only Dominion with a chance at breaking through the wards with their unique form of mana—we hadn’t ever considered them to be a threat.
Her eyes narrowed to catlike emerald slits. “Did you think the murders along the border would go unanswered, let alone the monsters?”
