A tic pulsed at the corner of his jaw. “Show me where it is.”
Cora scoffed. “That’s a bad idea. You’ll be torn to shreds as soon as you enter.”
“Then you have nothing to fear. Show me.”
She uttered curses under her breath. “If you insist.” She kept her gaze on him as she skirted past toward the edge of the cliff. The sound of waves grew louder. She halted just before the edge. “I won’t turn my back on you until you provide me some space.”
“You think I’m going to shove you off the edge?”
“Yes, and I’d rather you didn’t.”
He bared his teeth to show his displeasure but extended his arms and walked backward. She waited until he was several feet away before she turned her back to him. Her shields, however, remained down. Sensing.
Extending a hand, she stepped closer to the cliff’s edge and reached into the air like Ailan had done when she’d searched for the tear. Cora shifted her feet to the side, reached farther ahead.
Then she closed her eyes.
Pictured her destination in her mind.
And stepped off the edge of the cliff.
For the secondtime in two weeks, Teryn was forced to watch the woman he loved disappear with his enemy. He let every ounce of his rage show as he eyed the soldiers Darius had left on the battlement. They wore full armor and helms, obscuring their features. He couldn’t make out their expressions, see if they were terrified or angry, determine whether they were acting out of fierce loyalty or magical compulsion like many of Morkai’s men had.
It didn’t matter, though.
Whether they were wicked enemies or innocent souls with families and loved ones, they’d come to his castle. Threatened his home. His kingdom. His wife.
Soldiers were essential tools for war.
But Darius’ men would die tonight.
Teryn turned away from the enemy squad.
“Don’t move,” called one of the men.
Teryn paused but didn’t bother turning around. “Your king has my wife. You think I’m going to act against him now? Besides, he didn’t leave any orders for me. What harm can I do?”
Only silence answered, so he proceeded once more, past his guards who remained at the ready, swords drawn, eyes locked on the other squad. He stopped only once he reached the wall. Moonlight glinted off the shields hiding the hundreds of bodies filling the castle grounds, illuminating the archers who stood on the wall, awaiting orders to defend or attack.
He breathed deeply and unsheathed the dagger at his hip. Shuffling footsteps and the creak of armor sounded behind him, followed by one of the enemy soldier’s voices. “What is he doing?”
Teryn brought the blade to his palm, laying the flat of it over its center.
“I have the means to signal our attack,” the same man said. “We don’t need to wait the full ten minutes for our king to return. One wrong move, and you’ll lose any chance at escaping this alive.”
“Your king isn’t returning,” Teryn said. Even if Darius did, even if everything went wrong and the King of Syrus returned triumphant, Teryn was determined to greet him with a massacre. A tableau of death.
“Is that a threat?” the soldier said. “Or do you not trust His Majesty to honor his word?”
“It doesn’t matter if he honors his word. My wife won’t be honoring hers.” He angled his head over his shoulder, his lips peeling into a wicked grin.
The soldier huffed a dark laugh. “If that proves true, your reign is at an end.”
“We’ll see.” With that, Teryn turned the blade, slashed its edge over his palm, and closed his fist. Blood dripped from his hand as he thrust his fist toward the wall and the grounds beyond. Then, with a whisper, he said, “My blood. My command. Your final fight begins.”
54
Cora’s steps were more precise than any dance.
