His shadows responded in kind, turning to frigid darkness in his veins and spilling out of him in waves as he made his way across the blood-soaked battlefield.
Drip.
“Kaemon!” he shouted, his voice rising over the noise and echoing across the field.
Lord Kaemon slowly turned his way, a sinister smile painted across his face as his head canted slightly.
Fucking bastard.
Shadows swirled around him, creating a wall of impenetrable night, while tendrils slithered at his feet, striking out at anyone who tried to get in his way. Nothing—and no one—was going to keep him from ending Lord Kaemon’s life.
Kaemon’s smile broadened as he got closer, and he called out, “Your shadows won’t help you here, boy.”
Daemon’s steps faltered for a moment as his father’s teachings about other courts and their leaders sprung to mind.
Lord Kaemon is a siphon, son. No magic can touch him. He simply absorbs it and can turn it against the original wielder. And whatever you do, do not let him touch you with a bare hand. He can draw the very power that runs through your veins and, if he chooses to, drain you of it entirely. No one is safe with a siphon, not even in the shadows.
“Scared,Prince? Or should I say,Your Majesty?” Kaemon called out, his brows rising as his gaze ran over Daemon from top to toe—as if he was assessing if he was worth his time.
Your Majesty.That phrase slammed into him harder than any blow. In one fell swoop, Daemon’s world had been turned upside down in more ways than one. He’d lost his father and gained a kingdom in the same breath.
Tonguing a canine, Daemon pushed that thought aside, and shadow walked the rest of the way to Kaemon, making sure to leave enough distance between them before spooling his magic so far into his veins that it was barely a glimmer.
“I don’t need my shadows to end your treasonous life, Kaemon.” Daemon took a step closer, his grip on his swords tightening. “As a matter of fact, feeling your blood spray across my face before you drown in it sounds like a much better option.”
Daemon struck as Kaemon’s eyes widened with surprise, swinging one blade to slice across the Lord’s body and following it up with a diagonal, downward strike. Kaemon staggered back a step to avoid the first, then blocked the second, the sound of metal crashing together reverberating through the open field.
They moved together in a deadly dance of blades.
Each strike was met with a countermove. Each step was accentuated by the sound of mud squelching beneath their feet.
Despite his heart pounding in his veins, Daemon kept his breathing steady, his eyes constantly tracking the subtle movements Lord Kaemon would make so that he was ready for a counterattack. This duel wasn’t easy—not that he’d expected it to be after Kaemon had taken down the very man who’d put a blade in his hand when he was five. But as it dragged on, the mixture of sweat and blood that coated Daemon’s palms made it harder for him to grip his hilts.
Lord Kaemon knocked the sword from Daemon’s left hand with one heavy blow and lunged forward. Spinning to the side to escape the full force of the blow, he groaned as the edge sliced through his shoulder, sending rivulets of blood to spill down his arm. White dots flecked his vision as the wound throbbed in time to the beat of his heart. It wasn’t deep, but it was severe enough that it would need to be mended.
“Call on your shadows, boy. Seems you can’t beat me without them.” Kaemon chuckled darkly.
Gritting his teeth through the pain, Daemon gripped the hilt of his remaining sword with both hands and met Kaemon’s gaze head-on. “Over my dead body, will you get your hands on my shadows.”
“That can be arranged.” The cocky smirk on Kaemon’s face made Daemon’s blood boil.
Taking a deep breath, he calmed his mind and focused.
His breathing slowed, and it was as if time followed suit.
Swinging his blade overhead, Daemon turned his body to the left before switching directions. The maneuver forced Kaemon to defend his left side, leaving his right open for the taking.
As if the Goddess Rhayne herself was guiding his movements, Daemon’s blade came down against Kaemon’s side, cutting through the leather straps that held his armor in place and slicing through his skin and muscle until the edge sank into his ribs. When he pulled it free, Lord Kaemon cried out in agony, driving his sword into the mud as he crumpled to the ground.
Knocking him to his back, Daemon rested the point of his blade in the center of Lord Kaemon’s throat.
“You rose against the rightful queen of this realm. Murdered a king and threatened the next.” With each word, Daemon slowly pushed his sword through skin and sinew. Watching as Kaemon’s eyes widened, his body shuttering as death slowly claimed him. When he began to choke on his own blood, thecrimson liquid spilling out of the corners of his mouth, Daemon squatted down next to him, twisting the blade as he hissed, “May the Goddess Keres have no mercy upon your soul.”
As Daemon watched the light fade from Lord Kaemon’s eyes, a piercing scream shattered the air, bringing him to his feet. But it was his sister’s agonized wail that had his head whipping in the direction of the sound. Hair the color of flames caught his eye, and a crimson stain steadily growing at her side.
Fuck, Sariah.
Before he could bring his shadows to the surface, Yvaine was there, her dagger sliding free from the sheath in the armor on her arm and into her hand. Her strike was quick, slicing through the soldier’s neck before she ripped it to the side, relieving the man of his head.
