30
ISI
Mine.
The word slid under my skin, turning the blood in my veins to fire. It was a claim I couldn’t shake—didn’twantto shake—no matter how hard I tried.
Sitting on the queen’s throne made me feel like I was stepping into a story I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of.
The silence between us buzzed with everything left unsaid.
This throne was never meant for me, but it had welcomed me anyway, as if it had been waiting.
I slid off the seat before I lost control.
“I need to get something to eat,” I said, though I doubted I could eat anything after what happened. Crey had barely joined my team, and he was dead. What kind of leader was I if I couldn’t keep people alive? “I have strategy class soon,” I added as I leaped off the dais and fled across the throne room. “I don’t want to be late.”
Trew followed, his every step the kind of thunder that made my pulse skip.
The castle corridors stretched ahead of me, shadows pooling in corners like secrets waiting to be spilled. My heartbeat pounded notjust from the need to escape, but from the memory of the possessive look in his eyes when he saw me sitting on the throne intended for his queen.
I glanced back to find him behind, his cinderhawk perched on his shoulder, its eyes as sharp as his.
The dining hall bustled with the clatter of trenchers, mugs, and bowls magically refilling, plus low conversation. I slid into a chair beside Lexie and nodded to the others.
“Discover anything?” Lexie lifted her eyebrows.
“Not much,” I whispered.
“Tell me what happened.”
“He questioned some people.”
I suspected whoever it was had tried to kill me.
Derren, sitting on Lexie’s other side, leaned in. “Crey was… They’ll take him to his family. He, uh, had a wife. A small daughter.”
Anger churned through me along with a hefty dose of grief. I hadn’t known him, but I didn’t need to be his friend to feel bad that he’d been killed in my place.
Sitting across from us, Maddox paid more attention to us than the food on his plate.
“Did you do it?” I asked in a deadly tone.
He actually looked shocked. “I didn’t kill Crey.”
I dragged my gaze from his.
Trew took his seat on the dais, the cinderhawk shifting on his shoulder, its wings twitching before it settled. The tic in his jaw had resurfaced.
Kira lounged in her chair beside him, angling her body toward his, leaning in with the smile she used like a blade. But he didn’t look at her. Not even once. His gaze stayed locked on me, as steady as his hand had been earlier around my wrist. When it became clear she wasn’t going to break through, the curve of her mouth cooled. She cut me a look of half challenge, half warning, before turning to the woman on her other side.
I ate my meal, not allowing myself to look toward the dais again.
It was all I could do to listen to Malcolm’s lecture about battle strategies during class. I sighed with relief when it was over and left the lecture hall with my friends, filing into the training hall for our first magical lesson. The room felt colder than before, shadows spilling across the polished floorboards as we stepped into the middle of the room.
My friends stayed close, their companions padding at their sides, flying ahead, or riding on their shoulders. The space where mine should’ve been felt much too empty. No one commented about my missing minxpip. It was obvious enough.
I expected Trew to stride in and run the session, but Nia appeared instead, wearing her usual blue tunic and loose pants as she crossed to the center mat. She stopped and swept her gaze over the group, using the kind of look that made new warriors straighten their spines whether they wanted to or not.
