To us.
His gaze lingered on the vial I still held.
“Interesting,” he said, lips curling into a mockery of a smile. “Did I miss the invitation to this little family party?”
Zander’s voice was calm, but the fury burned beneath it. “We just returned. We were unable to breach the Blood Fae wards. We were attacked before we even got close to the isle.”
Theron smiled, deliberate and cold. A serpent waiting to strike. “I’m not surprised. But your failure…” he tilted his head, gaze sweeping the room, “will work to my advantage.”
My pulse kicked up, magic coiling beneath my skin, but Zander stepped forward, his expression carved in steel. “Careful, Theron. People might start to suspect you want to lose this war.”
Theron’s lips curved into something that should’ve never been called a smile. “Oh, I won’t lose. I will take everything.”
Remy crossed his arms, his stance tense beside the king’s bed. “You’re awfully confident for someone who’s losing the support of half the guilds.”
Theron shrugged like it was a minor inconvenience. “Confidence is earned. Let’s just say that by this time next week…” he paused, turning his full attention on Zander, then me, “I’ll be crowned. And you two—” his finger stabbed the air, “—will be dead.”
The air turned frigid. Remy took a step forward, the sound of his boots scraping against stone too loud in the silence. His magic flared like a storm building behind his eyes.
A guttural growl rippled from his throat.
Theron smiled wider.
“There’s still a place for you, Remand,” he said, voice as smooth as silk-wrapped poison. “You were always more interested in killing than politics.”
He turned on his heel before any of us could move, robes snapping at his ankles as he exited the suite with a grace that reeked of control.
The door shut behind him with a finality that echoed louder than any threat.
I looked at Zander.
He didn’t say a word.
He didn’t have to.
I already knew.
Theron had declared war.
“I guess the gauntlet’s been thrown,” Remy said, his voice like ground stone. “And I hate to say it, but Theron only does that when he’s sure he’ll win.”
Zander didn’t even blink. “He’s hiding something. We need to find out what, and fast.”
A roar echoed outside the window—raw and primal, shaking the stained glass in its frame.
Then came another.
Then screaming.
All three of us moved at once, racing to the arched windows that overlooked the Ascension Grounds.
Below, chaos reigned.
Riders were locked in battle with men clad in blood-red armor, the unmistakable sigil of the Crimson Sect slashed across their chests like a brand. Steel clanged against steel. Magic flared—bright bolts of kinetic energy, flashes of fire. Dragons soared and dove overhead, their roars like thunder against the morning sky.
“No,” I whispered, a cold dread clawing its way up my spine.
My eyes searched frantically. Ferrula, Jax, Naia… where were they?
