Ebron!I shout into my mind, opening the golden cord between us wide.Ebron!
Harper! I could feel you. I knew they were hurting you, but I could not find you.
I’m outside. Somewhere near the cliffs. They’re going to kill me!Although, this is an island. There are cliffs everywhere.
You are safe. I am coming for you.
I’m grabbed by my shoulder and yanked to my knees. My arms are twisted behind me, trapped by someone’s hands. I blink and see six silhouettes, faces blurred by the wind and the fact that one of my eyes isn’t working right.
“Bitch,” one of them spits, cuffing my cheek so hard I bite my own tongue. “That’s for making this whole thing fucking harder than it had to be.”
“Did you see her with that Hollowborn? She’s a fucking whore,” says another, and the rest snicker.
I plant my feet the best I can and try to launch myself upward, but one of them has my arms locked in a vise. “Let me go,” I snarl, but all it does is make them laugh harder.
“Whore’s got spirit,” someone observes, and then another fist comes, this time into my ribs. There’s a pop, like a bubble under my skin, and I go blind with pain. The world pulses in and out, black and screaming. My knees buckle.
“Let’s get this done. Thorne said to kill the Hollowborn as slowly as humanly possible and then throw the girl off the cliffs.”
Thorne.They’d said his name earlier, but I’d barely registered it before the attack. I can’t believe this is because of him. All of this. Not the king, not the Gore Rock dragon riders, but the king’s worm of an advisor, Elder Thorne. My heart races so fast I almost throw up. This is a coup. Or at least the start of one.
“You’re making a mistake,” I rasp, craning my neck to glare at the nearest one. “Thorne’s not the king. He’s not a prince. He’s not your leader at all. He’s just a coward who wants to keep this war going forever.”
A fist grabs my hair, jerks my head back until the stars spin. “You keep talking,” the man says, his breath hot on my cheek. “But all I hear is a traitor who thinks she’s better than us.”
I grin with all my teeth. “That’s because I am.”
He backhands me so hard the world tilts. I spit blood in his face. For a split second, there’s a chorus of laughter, then the mood flips to ugly.
“Think you’re clever?” he sneers. “We’ll see how clever you are with your guts on the rocks.”
He yanks me to my feet, and the pain in my side almost makes me faint. I plant my heels and try to headbutt him, but the guy behind me shoves me forward. The wind is so fierce it steals my breath, claws at my clothes. I catch a glimpse of the cliff edge, sharp and silver against a dark sky.
The other dragon riders form a ring around me, faces pinched and angry. I know the look. They’re soldiers who’ve been given an order they’re not happy with, an order they might hate, but they hate me more. Someone who loves a Hollowborn. This is about the only time I can imagine a dragon rider hurting a woman instead of protecting her. This sort of thing is usually against their code of honor.
One of them has my dagger. He twirls it between two fingers, watching me with a sick little smile.
“Bet you want this back,” he says.
I lunge for him, but the grip on my arms holds me tight. “Give it here,” I snap. “I’ll show you where to shove it.”
“Try it,” he says, and the others laugh.
I scream. Not words, just rage. They expect me to beg, but I refuse to give them the satisfaction. My vision is swimming, the ground under my feet wobbling. At least one of my ribs is definitely broken. I can’t draw a full breath, no matter how hard I try. But that’s not enough to stop me. Nothing is.
I think of Sevrin… of what they’re doing to him, alone and outnumbered, his beautiful face smashed to a pulp. I think of the last time I saw him, the love in his eyes, and it makes my entire chest ache in a different way. The urge to get back to him is so strong it’s like a second skeleton inside my body, shoving me forward even as the pain gets worse.
They drag me, half-carrying, half-pushing, toward the edge. The drop is sheer, water churning below like an angry god. There’s no moon, but the clouds glow with lightning, painting everything in pale, ugly strokes.
“Hold her,” says the first voice—the ringleader, I guess. “Let’s make sure she sees what happens when you spit on your own kind.”
They yank me so my toes dangle over the edge. The wind tugs at my hair, making my eyes water.
Ebron!
I am searching. Hold on.
“This is insane,” I shout, twisting to look at them. “You’re disobeying your king. You're killing your princes’ wife. You have to know you’re being traitors. That you’ll be killed for this.”
