He pauses in the doorway, eyes landing on Grace. “Swords at our backs.”
Grace spins on her knees to Riot. “Hearts at our fronts,” she responds, voice shaking.
He smiles sweetly at her. “We’ll get Sam out of there, Grace.”
She nods, and Riot disappears behind the closing door.
I exhale a heavy breath, and Grace turns back to me, climbing into my lap.
I wrap my arms around my wife as her head finds home on my shoulder. “I can’t believe it’s time,” she whispers.
I squeeze her tighter. “It’s our moment in history, and I can’t wait to share it with you. But I’m sorry this is how it’s happening.”
She nods against my neck, and my palm encases her thigh as she lifts her head.
“Forever may we reign,” Grace whispers, a tear sliding down her cheek.
I swipe it away. “Forever may we reign.”
She peers at my face. “You need rest.”
My body droops at her words. Our magic takes a toll on our physical selves. Our power hands us the ability to wield and perform beyond what our physical body is capable of, leaving an aftermath that feels like I ran up a mountain and back down it in a single day. But sleep heals and resets us.
I scoop Grace into my arms, standing with ease. “Do I?”
“Yes,” she says, kissing me as I stride for the door.
I carry Grace upstairs, and we wash and settle in bed, falling asleep entangled together but not before I send my magic’s call across Goreon, summoning everyone to Mortifer.
If war is what the king wants, war is what we’ll give him.
And then I offer a prayer to the gods to guide us to the other side of it and give us our Hunter back.
Blowing out a breath, I stare at my breakfast and know I should eat, but the weight of our future spasms inside me, and my appetite is somewhere beneath the mayhem.
I’ve been reaching out my magic to Sam all night, but there’s no response. They must be keeping him unconscious.
At least he’s not dead.
I just need Sam to hold on for a couple days. And I know he can; he’s stubborn and strong.
“Papa is going to lose his shit,” Grace whispers beside me, her meal also untouched.
Gods.
Master Hull is a fierce man and the eldest Hunter. He resides in Mortifer Fortress, overseeing our libraries, our training facilities, our weapons, and our dead.
And the king has his son.
I’m going to get my ass handed to me today.
“We need to move out,” I say, standing and leaving my breakfast behind.
“Aye,” Riot says, lumbering into the living room. “Hunters! Round up!” he yells.
We bundle into coats and emerge into the dreary winter morning, all of Central gathering in the small courtyard of our manor.
Rhett and five Hunters march down the steps; Lou’s body is wrapped and suspended on a cot between them. Mother Hollie is the last out of the house in mourning black, and we wait for her to descend the creaking stairs.
