Malice coated his voice, and I saw the moment realization dawned on the two. As they charged at their prince who no longer claimed the throne. As they raised their weapons against him.
And I ran—sprinted with all the breath left in my body. Lungs tightening.
Pulling my arm back as I closed in, I let Angelborn fly.
She sank through the woman’s neck with an echoing squelch and anchored her to the ground.
The man spun to face me, a grotesque grin breaking. “You continue to show your hand.”
“What does that mean?” I spat, skidding to a stop near him. I drew my sword but held myself back.
“It means she knows you better than you think.” Fear chilled me. I couldn’t form a response—justfroze. Couldn’t even summon the strength to react as he lifted his blade, because he had voiced one of the ominous thoughts I feared most.
Being known—understood—by the queen when I still didn’t have a damn clue what she wanted.
My eyes locked on that blade as it rose, and I willed myself to move.
To strike.
But I only watched it lower, watched his eyes get wide and gleeful for a moment.
Then, a blade shot through the back of his head, straight throughhis eye, banishing that ghoulish grin for good. Beads of dark red sprinkled my boots as he fell.
When I looked up, Malakai was there.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice shaking. He wrapped his arms around me, tremors wracking his muscles.
“Yes,” I breathed. I squeezed him tighter, letting him feel the beat of my heart through the Bind. Reassuring and strong, I hoped.
Soon, the sounds of battle faded.
But the pained panic that took him over at the phraseWarrior Princewas seared on the inside of my eyelids. Angels, the scars of those memories, the horrors they’d inflicted would never leave him. I shoved aside every ounce of fear the Engrossian’s taunt about Kakias had instilled in me and squeezed Malakai tighter, letting him know it was okay.
He was not back in that cell. He was free. He’d never go back there again.
I looked at Barrett, whose eyes fell on the two Engrossian bodies bleeding before us.
“Thank you,” I said.
His head snapped up, face paler than usual as he looked at us both. “No. Thank you.”
We understood.
He would have killed those warriors if it came to it—but he hadn’t wanted to. I was reminded of the volcano, when I’d taken that burden from Malakai’s shoulders by killing Lucidius. The blood may stain my hands, but I was okay with that. At least I could keep them from feeling that remorse.
Slowly, the others joined us. I retrieved my weapons and Malakai recovered his armor. He held it at his side and slightly away from his body, like it was poisoned.
“Any injuries?” I asked, sweeping my gaze over each of them briefly, counting those before us. My sister, Cyph and Tol, Erista and Esmond.
One was missing?—
“Collins,” Danya confirmed, looking behind her. His body lay still, arms folded on his chest, eyes closed. “It was swift.”
Her words hollowed out a piece of me. I didn’t know him well,but it was the first death of a warrior I was responsible for. It tarnished my heart, darkening the easy presence his smile had gifted. A loss I couldn’t prevent, a life that ended trying to help my cause.
My chest caved under that pressure, an echoing pang, despite the fact that I’d barely known the warrior.
“We bring him home,” I instructed through the dying piece of me.
