Or Thaddeus.
Call him off.
“Nevander,” I breathed. His grip faltered for a heartbeat, and my focus shot to Tarrin, who looked at us with wide eyes, confirming what I already knew. I closed my eyes for a brief moment as my heart fractured just a little more. I hadn’t seen him, and I wondered if he’d been among the soldiers. Either way, he was here. And I was in his grip. “Nevander, please.”
“Don’t,” he warned.
“You don’t understand,” I pressed. “It’s all a lie. The Great War?—”
“Don’t,” he snarled, his hands around me now tight enough to steal my breath.
“I can free you from him,” I rasped around his grasp.
Noting my struggle, Endymion stiffened, and had it not risked me, that lethal edge would be against Nevander’s neck instead of Thaddeus’.
Nevander scoffed, the sound bitter and harsh. “Yeah, look at Tarrin. Free as a bird from yourhelp.”
“Even in chains he’s freer than you’ll ever be,” I spat.
I squeaked as his grip tightened even more.
“I won’t ask again,” Endymion said in response.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Thaddeus spat.
Lowering his tone to a deeper, more menacing octave than I’d ever heard from him, Endymion said, “I’ve already killed the High Lord’s third and fourth commanders today. Trust me when I say I’d be more than happy to addKingto that list.”
“You’re going to let him talk to me that way?” Thaddeus demanded of Wymond.
“I should think the sword to your throat would be the more pressing issue than his words,” Wymond mused.
A choked laugh escaped me, despite myself.
Endymion shot me a look, brow raised.
I was losing it, and I wasn’t entirely sure I could blame it on a lack of oxygen. It was all just too much. How the fuck had I gotten here, in this situation? And when would this nightmare end?
“My commander’s ask is a simple one, King Thaddeus,” Wymond continued. “And as I understand it, he’s already warned you about engaging with the spark without permission.”
So, Endymion had told his High Lord about earlier. Interesting.
Thaddeus’ defiant look he threw Endymion’s way promised retribution when the odds favored him.
“Release her,” Thaddeus said through gritted teeth.
Sucking in harsh breaths, I wasted no time grabbing Aiden’s arm, and dragged him down to the ground with me. He yelped in surprise as he fell ungracefully to his knees. “Heal him, please,” I begged.
He glanced over his shoulder to Endymion, who nodded.
“You’re going to heal the summer bastard after what he just pulled?” Thaddeus roared.
Aiden ignored the outburst, focusing on Artton. We both grimaced as he pulled back some of the tattered remnants of scorched leathers.
Unable to watch, I looked away.
Endymion moved, drawing my attention to him. Sheathing his sword, he stepped into Thaddeus’ personal space and released a low growl of warning when Nevander reached for his weapon. “I’ve already warned you once today,” Endymion said, his temper flaring. “You are a guest of this court, but know nothing of our customs or treaties. Satisfying your bloodlust is not reason enough to send back a dead commander to the Summer Court. So, yes, our healer will keep him out of Father Death’s clutches.”
“Enough of this,” Wymond’s voice rolled through the Great Hall, and everyone stilled. “I grow tired of this day and want what I came for. Let’s finish this and be on with it once and for all.”
