That killed the howling. The incandescence stilled. Yet my ears still rung with something otherworldly.
The glow fell away; shadows edged in again.
The bright coin in the sky reflected off a million jagged shards, illuminating the space. The entire world spun, wobbled beneath my feet.
A roar rose from the crowd, clashing with Iaoth’s screech.
Because there, mere feet from the throne, was Vaeron.
Standing.
And Zarethiel was on his hands and knees, a collar of magic around his throat and a bronze blade pressed against it.
No no no no no no no…
The Goddess had passed her judgment. The light had chosen—and it wasn’t who the crown had wanted.
Vaeron was the victor.
No one moved. No one breathed.
Until chaos erupted all at once. “Seize him!” Stadiel ordered, all pretense that this was a fair fight forgotten.
Maelsar flew toward me on the edge of the blackness, and the blade dug deeper into my side, ripping a cry from my throat. But in the next heartbeat, it was gone, as was the male who had been holding me hostage.
Guards raced forward, toward my mate, as I hit the ground. Pain arced up my shoulder, but I wasn’t on my side long before Maelsar was hauling me up and away.
“No!” I screamed, reaching for Vaeron. He drew two new blades, swinging them in mad arcs as he clashed with his attackers.
“We have to get out of here. He’ll find us,” Maelsar gritted out as I twisted in his hold.
Stadiel’s voice boomed over the madness, calling for the nobles to remain where they were. My mate disappeared as his best friend dragged me behind the thrones. I ripped my gaze forward, finding a row of royal guards waiting, swords drawn, for us.
“Hand her over,” their leader barked.
Maelsar hauled me over his shoulder and raced me back the way we’d come. Toward Vaeron.
A pile of bodies littered the space around him, and we cleared them in a powerful leap. I slid to the floor as Maelsar created a shield of white around us. “What do we do?” he shouted at Vaeron.
My mate captured me in his arms, holding me against his chest. “My magic is almost gone. We have to fight our way out.”
“I’m ready to die if you are,” Maelsar grinned—a bloodthirsty, violent expression that should have sent fear skittering to my toes.
Vaeron placed a blade in my palm. The weight of it was foreign, heavy, unbalanced. “Please, please protect yourself too.There’s only so much I can do when we are outnumbered so greatly. I love you, Sylaira. I need you. We will make it out of this.”
My fingers closed around the cool metal. I braced myself for the inevitable moment I’d have to join them in murder if we wanted to be free of this colossal mistake.
My mate spoke again, some sort of plan, but his words were blurry, distant.
I blinked, trying to focus on his face. On the shape of words his lips made. But nothing was making sense.
The air thickened. The moon brightened, brilliantly blinding above the swirl of radiance entombing us. Yet threaded through it were the whorls of onyx, threatening to swallow everything in existence.
Something is wrong. What is happening to me?
“Sylaira?”
Vaeron’s velvety tone drifted through the haze.
