It makes me feel guilty to even be here, if I’m being honest. Rubbing my new position in her face, a handsome prince on my arm. This is the future she was supposed to have. Not me.
I wince as I recall how upset I was with her when I found out she knew my true lineage. She was probably trying to save me from the pain of learning I was the bastard child of the High King, the pain of trying to connect with him and learning I’d never be like Etta. There would never have been a true place for me within the High Court. I was certainly never supposed to be the High Queen.
Not unless the entire royal family died.
I stand up, excusing myself, saying something about needing to use the bathroom. Really, I need a moment to breathe.
I go to my old room and sit on the bed. I loved this room so much. Willa’s kept everything the same. My bookshelves are still overflowing, filled with young adult romances and adventure novels. My favorite chair sits in the corner of the room beside the large window that overlooks the backyard, where I used to sit and read for hours. I stand from the bed and look out across the backyard.
Willa and Marik are still on the patio. I watch them for a moment, feeling guilty for leaving them behind. But if Marik is going to be my future husband, I need to know that he and Willa get along. Willa says something, and they both stand as she makes her way past Marik to head back inside.
As Willa passes him, he places a hand on the small of her back and smiles at her. I expect Willa to ignore it, but she looks back at him and smiles, saying something else before heading back inside. To anyone else, the action would likely go unnoticed, taken as a friendly gesture. For some reason, it gives me pause, but I can’t figure out why.
I go into the attached bathroom and splash some water onto my face. My thoughts are running away from me and going in a direction that I don’t like, which usually ends in one way: me crying on the bathroom floor. I need to stop drinking.
I head downstairs and grab a glass of water from the kitchen. Something flashes in my peripheral vision, and I whirl around. But there’s nothing there. I walk slowly to the glass doors that lead to the back porch and almost drop the glass of water.
Marik and Willa stand side-by-side, facing a line of a dozen cambions. They stare at Marik and Willa, smiles on their faces.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Panic overcomes me.
The cambions must not be able to see me otherwise, they’d be trying to get in. That must be why Marik and Willa have stayed there. I have no idea how to make a portal, and Willa can’t make a portal into the castle. Marik’s the only one who’s able to do that.
Fuck.
I reach for the back door, but something yanks me from behind. I drop the glass of water, and it shatters as it smashes to the ground.
Marik’s head whips to the door. With his attention diverted, the cambions attack.
“Hello there, pretty High Queen,” something whispers in my ear.
Chapter 30
Strong arms hold me from behind, restraining me in place. They drag me into the darkness of the living room, but I can still see the back porch. The cambions attack both Marik and Willa, their sharp claws slashing at them as soon as they get close.
Willa doesn’t move quickly enough, and her arm catches a sharp claw, blood erupting from her forearm. She bites back a scream and slashes out with her own arm. A sword of black fire erupts and slices the cambion in two. Marik summons a spout of sand and sends it down a cambion’s throat, drowning its lungs. It drops almost instantly.
I tear my eyes away from the battle outside and focus on the battle that’s happening inside. I look down. Claws are wrapped around my midsection. I’m pressed against a tall figure—unlikely a cambion. I can feel bones sticking from whatever I’m being held against. I have no fucking idea what I’m trapped inside with.
I suppress a shiver, but thethingmust have somehow sensed it because it chuckles, deep vibrations coming from its chest.
“Your High King will find you, worry not,” it drawls behind me.
“What do you want?” I say through gritted teeth.
“I want to make you scream,” it whispers in my ear. My body tenses, and I freeze, panic overflowing my system. This thing doesn’t want to kill me. This thing wants to hurt me.
One of its clawed hands moves down my body, razor-sharp nails dragging against my thigh.
“What do you want?” I repeat.
It chuckles again and says, “I already told you.”
I feel for my power, but it’s not responding to my call. Maybe this thingisa cambion if it’s muting my powers.
