She stands before me, frantic and disheveled, tears streaking her freckled face.
“Oh gods, you’re here!” She throws her arms around my neck. It’s then that I notice the cluster of terrified women and children behind her.
I pull back. “Are you alright?”
“It happened so fast, I rounded up as many people as I could?—”
“We need to get them out of here,” I say to Jace.
“The tunnels are the safest place for them.”
She shakes her head. “I couldn’t get to everyone?—”
Before I can respond, a cluster of golden soldiers bursts through the smoke and charges at us. Igrid’s huddle shrieks as Jace shoves me behind him and lunges forward.
“Serena go! Get them out of here!”
“I can’t leave you!”
Jace’s sword slashes through the air, burying itself in the neck of one of the soldiers. I cringe.
“I could do this in my sleep, now go,” he shouts.
A few of the soldiers fall to their knees, clutching their necks and gasping for air. Jace whirls to me, clutching my arms, his voice urgent. “Get to the kitchens. There’s a trapdoor inside the pantry. Go now!”
I don’t budge.
“If you don’t, they will die. Please. I’ll find you.”
He jerks me forward, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. Then he shoves me toward Igrid and turns back to his fight.
I swallow my panic as I stealthily lead the group down the steps toward the kitchens. We’re almost in front of the throne room when I see the Stryga materialize before me. There are four or five of them heading right for us.
I pivot to Igrid. “Run. Take them and don’t come out.”
“Serena, no?—”
“Go!”
She breaks away from me, cerulean eyes torn and brimming with tears as she and her group steal around the corner.
I race into the throne room, luring the Stryga in after me. A line of fire shoots from my palms and slams into them, but they don’t stop. I reach for my dagger, slicing a clean line through one’s throat. Hot blood sprays across my face and pools on the polished marble tiles. I take an involuntary step back.
Razor-sharp pain slices across my arm. I glance down at the four symmetrical slits on my leather sleeve and the blood welling beneath. The creature swings again. I duck just in time to sink the knife into its back.
Hurried footsteps sound down the hall. I whirl as Derek appears beneath the archway, followed by a few of his guards.
“Serena,” he breathes.
And in that moment, it’s not the king standing there. It’s not Derek.
It’s my dad.
I can’t help it. I do the thing I’ve been dying to do since the moment I arrived in this strange world, since the moment I saw him on his throne of diamonds, regarding me with violent distaste.
I rush toward him and throw my arms around his neck. He catches me, staggering back a step. Instead of shoving me off like I expected, he hugs me back. His familiar scent washes over me, and my throat seizes up.
“I prayed to the gods for your safe return.”
