Now, watching it unfold, I wasn’t exactly sure how I’d convinced anyone this would work.
“NOW!” I screamed, my voice carrying on sonic waves that shattered every piece of glass within a hundred yards.
The main gates of the Heartspire exploded inward under the combined assault of our makeshift army and three hundred very angry bees. Half the rebels had never ridden anything in their lives, much less giant insects with attitude problems. I’d watched some poor fae, Jareth, nearly get stung to death during the briefing when he’d grabbed Kevin’s thorax wrong. Another rebel, Tam, had fallen off his bee twice before we even left camp. But they were here now, clinging to fuzzy backs with white knuckles and screaming war cries that were half battle rage, half terror.
Kevin dove through the shattered gates first, his torn wing making him list sideways, but his war cry echoed off the walls with a furythat made even me shiver. Behind him, the swarm followed, a cloud of organized vengeance that darkened the sky.
“For Elle!” I shouted, leading the charge with more enthusiasm than sense. “For everyone who’s tired of living under a madman’s thumb! For decent interior decorating! Seriously, has anyone seen these walls? Corruption is not a design choice!”
The rebels roared behind me, taking up the cry. Well, most of it. They seemed less concerned about the interior decorating part.
The first wave of Bloomguard met us in the courtyard, and that’s when things got properly chaotic. My sonic pulses bounced off the walls, multiplying and echoing until it sounded like a thousand of me were attacking from every direction. Which would have been terrifying for anyone, really. One of me was usually more than enough.
“What is this?” a guard captain shouted, trying to rally his forces. “How many are there?”
“All of them!” I replied cheerfully, sending a pulse that knocked him off his feet. “Every rebel in the realm! We’ve come for tea and revolution! Mostly revolution!”
The truth was, we were outnumbered three to one. But between the sonic echoes, the bee swarm, and the rebels’ hit-and-run tactics, the guards couldn’t tell where we actually were versus where we seemed to be. Thrak had positioned our forces brilliantly—three groups attacking from different angles, retreating before the guards could engage, then attacking again from somewhere else.
It was chaos. It was mayhem. It was exactly what we needed.
As we pushed through the outer defenses, I spotted her—the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. She moved like water through the chaos, somehow both predator and prey, her simple serving dress torn and bloodied, but her stance speaking of hidden training. Brown hair whipped around a face that was all sharp angles and fierce determination. My compound eyes took in every detail at once: the grace in her movements, the fire in her eyes, the way she held a kitchen knife like she knew exactly where to put it. I was instantly, ridiculously smitten.
Then she screamed, and reality crashed back.
“Help!” The voice was terrified, lovely, desperate.
I spun fully to see her pressed against a wall as three Bloomguard advanced. This beautiful, terrifying girl was about to die, and something in my chest went absolutely feral at the thought.
“Well, well,” one of the guards said, reaching for her. “The regent’s little runaway serving girl. He’ll reward us well for bringing you back.”
A serving girl. That’s all I knew. But it didn’t matter who she was; she was about to die, and I couldn’t let that happen.
Something in me snapped. Not the usual Bryx snap of making inappropriate jokes at inappropriate times. Something deeper. Something that looked at this girl—alluring, fierce, about to die—and said absolutely fucking not.
The sonic pulse I unleashed wasn’t calculated or careful. It was rage given sound, fury given frequency. The guards flew backward, armor cracking, bones definitely breaking. Kevin was on the nearest one before he could recover, stinger finding the gap between helmet and collar with vengeful precision.
I reached the woman in three strides, pulling her behind me. “Are you hurt?”
“I… I wanted to help,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “I couldn’t just hide while everyone else fought.”
“Brave and stupid,” I said, sending another pulse at an approaching guard. “My favorite combination. I’m Bryx, by the way. Hero, pest, occasional savior of beautiful women. And you are?”
“Mora,” she gasped, wiping blood from a cut on her cheek. “I work—worked—in the kitchens. I helped Elle when they had her.”
My compound eyes widened. “You know Elle?”
She nodded, and suddenly this gorgeous stranger became even more important. “She told me to run when things got bad. But I couldn’t leave her.”
“Can you run now?”
“Yes.”
“Then run with me. We’re going inside.”
“Inside? But that’s—”
“Where Elle is. Where this ends. Where we need to be.”
