There’s a knock on my door sometime after midnight. Blinking away the sleep, I toss back the covers and open the door to a worse for wear Jace.
The flickering candlelight in the hall deepens the dark hollows beneath his eyes, making him look haunted.
“What is it?”
“May I?” His eyes skip to my room.
“Last time I checked, you were still king.” I hold the door open. As soon as it closes behind me, he turns and says, “We need to talk. About Serena.”
“What about her?”
“We can’t let her do this.”
He knows as well as anyone that there’s no deterring her when she wants something. “Her mind is made.”
“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop this.” He steps forward. “But I need your help.”
I give him a long look.
“What do you have in mind?”
81
SERENA
7 DAYS
The sound of shouts outside my room jar me from a restless sleep. I sit up, squinting through the dark as I hobble out of bed. Jace is waiting on the other side of the door, hand poised for the knob, his expression grave.
“He’s here.”
My stomach plummets.
“No.”
Behind him, the hall is madness. People running from their rooms down the candlelit corridor, guards in sleek black armor rounding them up and herding them toward the stairs.
I duck past Jace toward the window across the hall. Through the starlit night, I can see the unmistakable gleam of golden soldiers drifting closer over the hill, the Vod banners proudly shivering in the wind above them.
“He’s early.” Shaking my head, I back up a step and bump into Jace’s chest. “No, this isn’t right, this wasn’t part of the bargain. It hasn’t been two weeks yet! Why would he send his armies?”
His arms steady me, but it feels like the earth is sinking and I am going down with it. Our plan, my plan—it’s over. Kylian lied. He broke his word.
But then again, did I really expect anything different?
It shouldn’t surprise me. But something in me, some part buried deep inside, was hoping he was better than that. Was hoping that he…that he what?
I scoff at my own naivete. Kylian is no fixer-upper. He is not redeemable. He deserves to burn in hell for everything he has done and intends to do. And yet somehow, I know exactly what he would say to that.
Burn with me.
“Come on,” Jace urges.
“I have to change.”
“Serena—”
“I can’t fight in a nightgown.” I dash into my room to stuff my legs through the first pair of pants and boots I can find and snatch the dagger from beneath my pillow. I’m still tucking the short slip into my waistband when Jace hauls me through the door. “I need to find Zadyn.”
