Time seemed to slip, to stutter, and for one frozen moment, all I saw was Rooke, inky hair suspended around him like he was underwater, dark blue eyes gleaming with purpose, lips drawn back as if he was snarling at the entire universe.
Fear ripped through me, gnashing against my ribcage, clawing up my throat, Ryland gripping me tighter, seeing what I was seeing.
This was no pampered son of an aristocrat.
This was a High Fae Lord with ancient God-blood running through his veins, filled with hate and fury, capable of ripping the world apart with his bare hands.
My eyes dropped to the table, the beads of blood gleaming on the artifacts like cut rubies.
All Kaden needed was magic. Something this realm had in short supply.
And then the truth hit me. Gravelock wasn’t wantonly sucking the magic from this realm; he was hoardingallthe power to keep Rooke weak, to keep him prisoner. Keep himhere.Because he was afraid of Rooke. Afraid of what he could do, even without the Triune.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Ryland shouted, while all around us, shadows swept in, surrounding us in a gale of swirling darkness. Even the island disappeared, the world tunneling down to only the four of us and this thrumming power beating against my chest.
“Binding them to me,” Rooke muttered darkly, withoutlooking up. “Gravelock will have a difficult time wielding them while they’re tied to my blood. Even if he takes them back now, he’ll have to unravel this binding first, before he can bleed me and forge his own. That will take time.”
I bit my tongue, wanting to tell him that was a stupid plan, when he let out a shuddering breath and closed his bloody hand. Without thinking, I picked up an unused strip of cloth from last night and pressed it tight against the gash.
“This is too deep, you idiot,” I hissed. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to cut yourself properly?”
“Stop being so fussy, commander, I might think you actually care.”
Rooke’s voice dropped lower. “But if you want to play with knives, you can give me a lesson later, if you wish.”
He was so close his breath mingled with mine, those shadows still spinning lazily around us as I stepped back, cursing myself.What was I doing? We were in fucking danger, I shouldn’t be…flirtingwith the enemy.
“We have to take back the Crown,” Rooke said, his tone matter-of-fact as his hand curled around mine, trapping me in place, something Ryland—with that frown and his narrowed eyes—did not miss.
“The Butcher and his guards will hole up at Evernight Castle. Now that Gravelock has the third piece, he’ll protect the Crown with his life and the lives of all his soldiers. They’ll secure the perimeter, strengthen the wards, and plan their invasion. I figure we have a day at most before they return.”
“We’re thieves. We stole the relic once before,” Varian suggested softly, “I’ll locate the Crown inside his castle, and we’ll just…”
Ryland was already shaking his head.
“Not at Evernight. That place is a death trap; nobody has ever gone in and come out alive.”
“What if we take the other two pieces and hide them? Somewhere he’ll never find them?” I suggested, well aware Ryland’s gaze was glued to Rooke and my clasped hands, a furrow forming in his brow. I pulled my hand away, first folding Rooke’s fingers over the cloth.
“What if we take them back to the Citadelle, keep them under lock and key? Queen Anaria will keep them safe. We’ll smuggle you out of the Shadowlands, Rooke, and with the backing of the entire Valarian army…”
“There’s one little problem, commander,” his smile turned sad. “The ward isn’t what keeps me captive, not really. It’s the fact I will die if I ever leave this island. Part of the curse, I’m afraid, and something I’ve never quite worked my way around.”
“Then one of us takes the Thorn and the Mirror back through the ward. We have allies waiting on the other side, powerful allies.”
“You’d never make it; Gravelock’s grown too strong,” Rooke explained. “He’d catch you before you reached the border, reclaim the two relics, and we’d be right back to square one. He knows they’re here and is formulating his attack to kill you three, and leave me alive.”
“Well, lucky for you, unlucky for us, I guess,” I muttered.
Rooke didn’t smile.
“Venmir Gravelock has devoured every last drop of the magic in this realm, hoarding his power until he unites the Triune, drains me dry, and drops that ward. When that happens, your precious Valarian will fall. Theworldwill fall. We can’t let that happen.”
His face softened.
“You want your city to remaining standing? We have toend this now, before he regroups and comes for us, because we are not strong enough to stand before him, not if he has the Crown.”
