“Treason?” As soon as the word left my mouth, an icy knot of dread twisted my gut. “They know she’s Wraith Borne.”
He nodded, his eyes flashing with fear.
“Where?”
Malesh didn’t have to ask to understand my question. “The throne room.”
Without waiting for the others, I turned on my heel and ran, sprinting down the corridor. The walls blurred as I passed them, every footstep pounding like the thunder of battle against the stone floor. Blood still coated my hands, but instead of satisfaction, I only felt a gnawing, desperate need.
I could hear Riordan and Callum behind me, but I ignored them, my entire focus on reaching the throne room. Each turn, each corridor, narrowed the distance, and everything else faded into the background, replaced by the thundering of my pulse.
If they had touched her… I clenched my fist, unwilling to contemplate the bloodbath that would ensue.
Not yet.
First, I had to satiate my burning need to lay my eyes on her.
The throne room loomed ahead, and I quickened my pace. I was almost there. Cadence was almost within reach.
I slammed my shoulder against the doors, pushing them open. The hall stretched before me, cold, formal, and deathly still. All eyes were on me, but I saw none of them as I scanned the chamber.
For her.
And there she was.
Cadence stood at the center of the room, directly before the dais. Her head was unbowed, but cuffs adorned her wrists, anchoring her to the floor.
When I realized what they had done to her, my fury ignited into something darker: a storm of barely restrained violence that hammered at my control, ready to break free.
“Iron fucking chains!” I bellowed, watching as the entire room recoiled.
When Cadence’s gaze met mine, the look of pure relief in her eyes only made my blood burn brighter.
They had laid their unworthy hands on my mate.
My fucking queen.
A slow, cruel chuckle escaped me as I took in the fae lined up to witness my wife’s humiliation. “Each person inside this hall has just signed their own death warrant. Every. Fucking. One. Of. You.”
Shocked gasps rang out around me, but I ignored them, searching for the man responsible.
My father sat atop the dais, his posture unbothered as he reclined in his throne. His casual demeanor sent warning bells blaring inside my head, and I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to decipher his plans.
“Ryker,” Riordan said, breathless as he fell into step beside me. “Something isn’t right.”
Callum stepped toward his sister, and I caught his arm, halting his movement. Cadence gave a small shake of her head, a silent warning to tread carefully.
“Son,” my father said, claiming my attention.
“What is the meaning of this?” My tone was biting, but my father didn’t flinch.
Instead, he wet his lips, as if he were savoring his next words. “A witness has come forward,” he said, unable to keep the grin from his voice. “She claims your wife is one of the Wraith Borne.”
“Who?”
The word dripped with so much venom that for a moment, my father’s steely exterior faltered, and he flinched.
But he recovered quickly. “Come, dear,” my father said, not taking his eyes off me.
