Anassa’s tail swishes, but she lets it rest.
“You’re nothing but a gutter-born liar,” Jonah snarls.
I open my mouth to defend myself, but he turns toward the crowd, a bully with an audience.
“Are you really all going to let thisking-killersteal the throne of Nocturna? What of our sacred mission as Bonded to protect king and country?”
Jonah and his wolf pace back and forth, knowing all eyes are glued to him, clearly relishing the moment.
“She claims that our prince is a Siphon. That his father, King Cyril, was one, too. If that were true, why would they have poured everything into eliminating the Siphon threat to our south? We’ve been at war with Astreona for centuries, with the kings’ full support!”
Jonah swivels to face me directly, his expression hard and ugly.
“No. What makes more sense is that this upstart slut wanted to be queen, to live a life of luxury instead of fighting for her country. But Prince Killian wouldn’t have her after she’d lost her mind and killed our king. Like the spiteful whore she is, now she’s doing her best to steal what’s rightfully Prince Killian’s.KingKillian’s.”
My breath leaves my body as I see peoplelisteningto him—believing him, or choosing to believe him. He’s inserted himself into a situation that does not concern him at all, crafted a discourse that is convenient to him, and to what end?
Because he’s a vindictive narcissist.
I look around myself in frustration, grasping at something,anything, I can do to make these people believe the truth.
What weight could my words or actions hold now, if they all think I’m a liar and a traitor? If they’re more convinced by the men who’ve held power here for centuries—and not willing to listen to a woman from the slums?
With a hiss of metal on metal, Jonah deftly draws his sword from his scabbard, raising it high.
My blood heats with panic as he opens his mouth and directs my people against me.
“True Nocturnans, to me! Death to the usurper!”
3
MERYN
A million things happen at once.
Instinctively, I fist my hands in Anassa’s fur, hauling myself up onto her back. My friends close ranks. Izabel and Tomison and the rest of the Strategos automatically join together into a defensive formation around the platform.
Venna peels off and circles around in a tight arc. Her wolf, Skaia, gathers on her haunches to spring up onto the platform beside me.
“Alpha Stark!” Venna yells, gesticulating wildly toward something behind me.
Stark and I both pivot.
An older Kryptos woman and her wolf have materialized behind us. Her snarling gray wolf lunges forward, and I quickly draw the Dire Blade, steeling myself for a blow.
But instead of engaging me in battle, the wolf and rider barrel in low and hard. The direwolf’s head slams against Anassa’s front legs, toppling us over.
I spring free from Anassa’s back as we go down so that I don’t find myself crushed beneath my wolf. The platform slams against me with abreath-snatching crunch, and the world spins, my hand letting go of the sword. I shield my face with my arms as I tumble once, twice.
And then there’s nothing underneath me at all. I fall through air, off the platform, and slam face-first into the dirt. With a groan, I push myself over and onto my back.
My head is light, spinning. I reach for those dark shadows that respond to my anger, but they’re nothing but a whisper. That fall weakened me.
The sky dims, and I blink, fighting unconsciousness. Then the sea of black materializes into snarling dark fur and violence incarnate: Cratos and Stark.
Cratos lands directly ahead of me, the two of them guarding my front.
Anassa is still up on the platform in a defensive crouch, one paw placed possessively on the Dire Blade’s hilt.
