My stomach plummets.
I leap out of my chair just as she falls and catch her drooping body. Her head hits my lap—but it came so close to smashing onto the stone floor.
Fuck.Hot panic seizes in my chest.
There’s a screech of chairs as both Venna and Noemi leap up, blades drawn. All the Astreonans look at us in offense.
My hands tighten roughly around Meryn’s limp arms.
She’s dead, my brain shouts at me.She’s dead, and it’s your fault. You couldn’t protect her, just like you couldn’t protect Noemi.
You let her die thinking you were a coward.
But—her body is still warm. And her chest moves up and down in slow, steady breaths.
“Cratos,” I reach out.“Is Anassa okay?”
He confirms that they’re both fine, and my tense muscles relax ever so slightly. This is exactly what happened when she first put on the Sturmfrost crown.
I start to breathe again. Thank fuck. I still have time.
Her words from when we crossed the border have been on incessant repeat in my head.
I know what I am. I know what I’m capable of. I’ve never shied away from my reputation because I’mproudof it. It was earned through the labored destruction of all the softest parts of myself.
And those words—What are you if not my equal?—have unraveled everything.
The idea of tainting her rule, of corrupting her ability to lead righteously, has haunted me. But… what if her darkness doesn’t need to be shunned, but tamed?
And what ifIcan help her tame it?
Lucien Brightbane smirks down at us. The terror this caused me has…amusedhim. My fists clench as I contemplate punching that expression clear out of his kingdom.
“She better not have so much as a fucking bruise on her body,” I hiss. “Or there will be consequences.”
He doesn’t even flinch. “Consequences, hmm? Yes, I’m sure you’re used to doling those out. You’re famous here, too, you know, Alpha Stark. Should there be consequences for all the tattoos you wear? All the people of mine whose lives you’ve taken? The one you just took after crossing my border, or how about the mass casualties you and the queen wrought before our ceasefire?”
I scowl, and he dares to laugh.
“I suppose we can call that all in the fairness of war,” he drawls. “But I’m not afraid of you, if that’s what you’re hoping.”
“No,” I say, “I expect you’re not. But youshouldbe afraid of her.” I incline my head toward Meryn. The red of her dress looks so much like the gruesome spill of blood. “You have no idea what she’s capable of, and I hope for your sake that you never find out.”
That’s a lie. I’d love to watch her explode his head.
Lucien’s lips press into a thin, calculating line as he looks more closely at Meryn—who chooses this moment to stir.
“Stark.” She swallows and tries to sit up, but I hold her firmly.
“You collapsed the moment you put on Lucien’s crown.” The words come out rote, a soldier reporting to his commander. But inside, I amburning. “Your body went rigid before crumpling to the floor. I caught you before your skull hit stone, but you have been unresponsive for several minutes.”
“I’m fine,” she tells me in a rush. She grabs my arm and squeezes tight.Hardso that it hurts. “Stark, I’m all right.”
My hand sifts through her hair, curling into a fist briefly, pulling a little. I knew she was okay almost immediately, and still—relief rushes through me in a wave.
“Get me up,” Meryn grumbles. “I look like an idiot down here.”
Guiding her upright, I wrap my calloused hand around hers and bring her with me as I stand. Her legs are slightly shaky.
