“I hear it,” she choked out, a laugh bubbling up through the dust and fear in her throat, wild and uncontrollable.
Outside, the screams of their captors rose in a crescendo, a chaotic symphony of panic. But as Night head-butted her leg, purring like a thunderstorm, she realized it was the sweetest song she had ever heard.
43
THE SERPENT'S FALL
From the windswept summit of the watchtower, the battle below was a chaos. Ky stood at the low stone parapet, watching as a massive warhorse trampled a path through Polan’s stunned forces. Every flash of a Spur blade, every roar of a Soul Beast, was a promise of rescue.
He felt Gessa press closer to his side, her fingers finding his and lacing through them, a grip that was grounding and real. He looked down at her, at the soot smudge on her cheek and the fierce, wild hope reflected in her eyes. For the first time in years, the storm inside him fell quiet. They had survived.
The hope lasted for a single, perfect heartbeat.
It was shattered by a new sound from the base of the tower, echoing up the spiral staircase. It wasn’t the sound of rescuers, but a ragged, wheezing sound—like a bellows struggling to draw air. Then came the crash of the splintered door being kicked fully open.
“Ungrateful...” The voice that drifted up from the darkness was wet and broken, but unmistakable. “Wretched... ungrateful... child.”
Ky spun, shoving Gessa behind him just as a figure burst into view at the top of the stairwell, lunging onto the rooftop parapet.
Polan.
He was a ruin. The silken, superior lord was gone, incinerated. His fine clothes were blackened and melted to his skin in patches. One side of his face was a raw, blistered mess, his hair scorched away to reveal the scalp. But it was his eyes that held Ky frozen for a half-second. They weren’t just hateful; they were weeping.
Polan looked at her with heartbroken revulsion, as if she were a masterpiece that had taken a knife to itself. In his hand, he gripped a blackened arming sword—a soldier’s blade, likely taken from a fallen guard.
“Look at what you’ve done,” Polan rasped, gesturing to his ruined face with the tip of the blade. “I offered you a kingdom. I offered you a legacy. And you chose... ash.”
“I chose freedom,” Gessa said, her voice shaking but her chin high.
“Freedom?” Polan spat the word like a curse. “You chose chaos. You chose filth.” His gaze snapped to Ky, and the heartbreak hardened into a glacial, murderous clarity. “Because ofhim. He poisoned you. He whispered to the animal inside you until you forgot the woman I built.”
Ky stepped forward, his own infantry blade raised in a guard position. “Stay back, Polan. It’s over.”
“It’s over when I say the lesson is finished!” Polan shrieked.
“Night, take him!” Ky commanded.
The great lynx snarled and coiled to spring, intending to tear Polan’s throat out. But as Night drove his back legs into the stone for the launch, his hind legs gave way. Dark blood slicked the floor beneath him.
Ky froze. The spearman.
A jagged gash ran along his flank. A hit Ky hadn’t seen. The adrenaline had carried him this far, but the explosive power needed for a kill was gone. Night scrambled, his claws skidding uselessly on the stone as he tried to drag his ruined leg forward.
Polan didn’t flinch. He sneered at the wounded animal.
“Look at it,” Polan spat. “Broken. Just like its master.”
As Night snapped at him, Polan stepped in and drove the steel toe of his boot viciously into the open wound on the cat’s hip.
Night screamed—a sound of pure agony that tore through Ky’s heart—and collapsed, writhing and unable to rise. Polan reversed his grip on the sword. With a brutal, practiced motion, he drove the steel pommel down hard between the lynx’s ears.
It was a silencer. A blow meant to drop a hunting dog.
“NO!” Ky roared.
He drove forward. Polan met him with a solid, drilled military thrust aimed at Ky’s center mass. Polan had been trained to defend his borders; his form was rigid, practical, and dangerous.
Ky parried, the steel ringing sharp and clear. He riposted, a quick slash meant to disarm, but Polan didn’t flinch. He turned the blow aside with a strong, efficient block and countered with a chopping strike that forced Ky to backpedal.
