From the folds of his cloak, Caspian reveals the Sword of the Protector.How did he get that?I snatch the sheathed blade. But Caspian leaves his hand outstretched. “And you’re going to need me.”
“Rosalina is in trouble,” I growl.
Thorns and shadows curl around his feet. Rosalina’s terror grows through our mate bond. There’s no time to question Caspian’s game, to guess at his motives. There is no other choice. I take the Prince of Thorns’ hand.
His smile is maddening. The familiar sensation of thorns whips me under the earth. I shut my eyes as my body ripples with power, ice crackling out in every direction.
We burst through the surface like breaking through water, an explosion of shadows and ice. Dreadknights, goblins, and Ezryn. My brother is lying on the ground, clutching his helm and screaming. But my focus narrows on my mate, pinned by another woman.
Rage like a winter storm, born from the depths of my magic, courses through my veins. I swing the Sword of the Protector, and a beam of ice explodes from it. It strikes the woman in the chest and sends her flying into her knights.
In a blur of shadow, Caspian brandishes a long purple sword made of briars and dispatches a goblin charging at me.
“Are you with me?” I ask.
A strand of dark hair falls across his face. “Don’t see who else is going to watch your back when you go into a single-minded murder streak.”
Dreadknights and goblins from the Below face us. Yet, he fights at my side. There’s no time to question, not if I want a chance of rescuing Ezryn and Rosalina.
“Together,” I say.
His eyes flash like stars. “Together.”
54
Rosalina
The Nightingale sails off me in a blast of ice, and I heave in great gulps of air, grabbing at my raw throat. My muscles ache. Through the haze of goblins, I see him. Keldarion. But even if I hadn’t seen him, I’d know he was here. My mate bond blooms bright in my chest.
But strangest of all, he’s not alone.
He’s with the Prince of Thorns.
They stand back-to-back in the middle of the grove as a host of Dreadknights and goblins charge. I can’t see the Nightingale through the throng. I wonder if Kel’s blast killed her.
With gritted teeth, I force myself to get up. I need to get to Kel, and at the moment, he and Cas are the legion’s entire focus. The two of them move with knife-edge precision. Though surrounded, not a single goblin makes it past their flanks. Magic—ice and thorns—flows perfectly with the strikes of their blades. It almost has the fluidity of a dance. A dance, I realize, they must have done many times before.
This isn’t the first time they’ve fought on the same side. It’s evident in the duality of their blows, the thorns covered in a dreadful frost as they penetrate the enemy, their feet moving in unison with each other.
A blur moves to the left, and I dodge as a goblin strikes out. Guess they’re tired of ignoring me. I shoot a briar from my bracelets, and it wraps around the creature’s torso, pinning it to the ground. Then I take off into the sea of bodies, letting my mate bond tug me to Kel.
He glitters white as snow through the chaos, swirling with Caspian’s purple and black shadows.
At least, I’m pretty sure it’s only leading me to Kel.
“Where do you think you’re going?” A Dreadknight steps in my path, his iridescent armor glimmering in the moonlight.
I yelp and throw myself to the ground to avoid his grasp. He kicks me in the gut, sending me rolling into a goblin.A goblin who doesn’t think twice before using its blade to strike me across the arm, leaving a line of sticky red blood.If I don’t get up, I’m going to die.
“Rosalina!” Keldarion roars, fighting toward me, Caspian at his back.
“Kel!” I scream. Yearning fights through the terror.
The goblin moves to strike again, and I throw up a thick briar to block its attack.
Rosalina, hold on!Farron yells in my mind.
At the thought of my mate, my body burns. I stand and white flames explode from my hands. They sear the Dreadknight in front of me. He screams, falling back.
