None of them wear helmets, all holding a weapon. Without thinking, I grab my dagger, slicing my opposite hand, relying on what worked before. As soon as the blood runs, I can hear the drum of hearts in my head. Before it would have driven me mad, but now, I relish it.
The pull is stronger, the drug almost nonexistent. Soon, I won’t need to cut my hand to crush their hearts.
“We’re here for the future queen,” one guard drones on. “Step aside.”
“Yeah, you’re not taking my sister.” He takes one step forward as the guards move and my heart pangs. “Remember what happened last time you touched something the heir loved? Most of your ranks were annihilated. Imagine what will happen to you if you touch his future queen.”
That seems to make them pause, two of them glancing unsure.Kaden is a force.
One shakes off the stupor, raising a sword at the royal’s throat. “If you don’t move, then you leave us little choice. We follow the king’s orders and you are not needed in the line of succession.”
“Like I haven’t heard that before.” He sighs, rolling his eyes. The other hand grabs his dagger, now armed with two weapons. I concentrate on the hearts, looking at the one closest to me. “It’s always orders with you lot. No thought. No originality. Where’s the individualism, Tomas?”
Reid swings first. His sword slices into one shoulder, dagger jabbing into another’s gut. It’s a clean cut, wicked. I remember how he fought in the forest, in the village. Reid fights like he dances, all smooth moves and grace, as entertaining as bloody.
I raise my fingers, twisting them, though it takes longer than I’d like.
Swiftly, I dart under the blade, the trainings with Fee easy compared to this Fae. I focus again, willing my magic to listen. I envision the calming shadow, twisting with death, the one that reminds me of Kaden and his strength. I hold on tight, let it rise within my chest and wrap around my magic. Like another hand, it holds it and my veins surge with power.
The sword hammers down, only for his arm to jerk, my dripping blood calling to his. Darkly, I grin.
His body sways following my hands like my real-life doll. I don’t play with him, just push all my might into his heart, feeling thedrum under my skin. It’s a beating frenzy as chills dance over my arms and my nose bleeds.
When my fist closes, he falls, heart crushed.
I smile relieved, but it’s cut short as I turn, seeing Reid battling two of the three remaining guards.Where’s the third?
Reid knocks one away, kicking the other back.
Wide, panicked eyes stare at me. “Max, watch out!”
I duck blindly as another blade slices overhead, narrowly missing my neck. The large guard stands behind me, ready for another hit. Grinning, malice seeps from his pores and I ready for another fight.
My magic flares, a hot light within my chest and I touch it, letting it flood my veins. The shadows intertwine with it, propelling the magic into my hands, giving it stability.
He staggers, feeling the effects as I see his heart in my mind’s eye. The pitter-patter of fear, the dread increasing his heart rate, and I smile, pleased.
He didn’t expect my power to work. That means they’ve been watching me for some time—Zelos has been watching me. I pour everything I am into holding him still, using what little strength I have left to stop him.
Then, a hit to my back as a sword hilt snap to my hip, and I fall, concentration lost. Reid growls out an obscenity, as I catch myself on my hands and knees, the larger guard recovering quickly. My head rings, powers spiraling, the heartbeats drumming too loud to think. Everything blurs, and my body flares in pain as a boot pushes me into the ground.
Those shadows flare in my chest, as if sensing my distress and react to the need to help.
Grabbing my hair, the guard yanks my head back, smiling cruelly into my face with barely contained glee. This is the face of a true monster.
“Zelos will reward us heavily for securing the blood summoner.” He drops me, slamming the butt of his sword into my temple and everything goes black.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
MAX
Cold water jolts me awake, yelping at the bite to my senses.
Pulling my hand to wipe my face, I snag my wrist against a heavy chain, brows furrowing. I blink the droplets away to glance upward, hair slicking down my cheeks.
I’m suspended in the air, arms stretched overhead, locked in place against the ceiling, my feet trapped below. I recognize the walls—still in the palace, but I don’t understand what happened.
