‘You took an oath to Tala and the gods. An oath to protect this kingdom and its citizens—’
‘Andyou,’ Aya growled as she set her drink down. ‘I am honor-bound to protectyou, and I would’ve been able to fulfill my oath if you hadn’t involved yourself.’
Will’s chest rose and fell rapidly, as if he couldn’t quite catch his breath. ‘Tell me,’ he seethed quietly, ‘howdidthe Athatis back away from me? Did I imagine the rush of power I felt against my shield just before your runt of a wolf tried to rip out my throat?’ His voice was a lethal caress, a promise of violence masked beneath the soft tone.
And the way he was looking at her …
He knew.
Dread curled in the pit of Aya’s stomach, writhing like a snake.
She’s too dangerous.
‘The priestess was right. Itdoesseem as though darkness is returning,’ Will breathed. ‘And I imagine it looks a lot like persuading a sacred animal the gods have deemed impossible to affect. And you know what happens to those that display even the slightest hints of darkness, Aya.’
She lifted her chin, her hands tingling as she wrapped them around her glass. She wouldn’t let Will intimidate her with baseless threats.
Even if … even if Tova had said nearly the same thing hours ago.
Even if she’d been reminding herself with each and every breath that her actions were born out of duty: duty to her realm, duty to her gods.
She forced a sneer, her voice dropping low as she said, ‘The Dark Prince of Dunmeaden wants to accusemeof heresy?’
Their faces were inches apart, glares equally marked with hatred.
‘Perhaps you’re the savior then? The one marked by divinity?’ His lips twisted into a sarcastic smirk as he looked her over. ‘No,’ Will breathed. ‘You and I both know it’s not light that drives you. I’ve had the broken bones to prove it.’
The words landed like a blow.
Aya jerked back, her heart pounding in her chest.
But it wasn’t the vision of his broken arm that haunted her in that moment. It was the way he’d watched her all those years ago as the messenger delivered the news of her mother’s death. The way he’d cocked his head, the way his brow had furrowed, like he—
Will nodded to a table behind her. ‘There’s the owner. Let’s go.’ He stood without another word.
Aya gave herself a moment to force down the anger that was still simmering inside of her. She was halfway off the barstool when she heard the shouts.
She glanced toward the door, frowning at the sound of boots pounding on the cobblestone street. Will caught her elbow, a look of irritation etched on his face. ‘Leave it, we have work to do.’
‘This is our work,’ she shot back as she ripped her arm from his hold. ‘Besides—’
A hoarse yell cut her off.
Aya froze, her blood chilling as she registered her friend’s voice. She was out the door in an instant, her body smarting in pain as she launched herself toward the Artist Market, following the sound of shouts.
The market was usually filled with artists and vendors and visitors, especially on a clear day like this. But it was empty now save for seven members of the Royal Guard. Two of them held a struggling Tova between them. They dragged her toward the tall guard in the center, a look of grim satisfaction on his face as he watched.
‘What is this?’ Aya demanded, her breath coming in uneven pants. Her side seared with pain, but she swallowed it as she marked how every door was closed, every blind drawn.
‘The Queen’s General is under arrest for treason,’ the man said, not taking his eyes off her friend.
‘Like hells,’ Aya growled.
Will strolled up next to her, his hands in his pockets. His voice was cool and calm as he said, ‘This seems to be a matter that’s beyond you and the Royal Guard, is it not, Finnias?’
The guard bristled with the insult. ‘We were sent by Her Majesty with orders to retrieve the general. We have proof that she’s conspiring against the kingdom.’
‘Show it then, you rat,’ Tova hissed, spitting at his feet.
