Chapter Thirty-Five
Stellen
Cruel ice burns in my palms as I wait for Lilis to hobble across the snow toward me.
I continue to fight the intense need to return to Thyra, aware of her scrutiny as she remains where she is. Smart of her to keep her distance from Lilis, who limps as she moves toward me, an uncharacteristic admission of injury.
Now that I’m focused on Lilis, I rapidly consider everything about her. The cuts through the armor on her arms and shoulders—defensive wounds. The splatter of frozen blood across her chest and shoulders. The still-bleeding cut above her eye, as well as the bruises on her face.
Also, the fact that her sword lies in the snow several paces to my left, unusually abandoned.
She swipes at the blood trickling down the side of her face as she comes to a silent stop in front of me.
Tilting my head, I ask, “Where is your wolf?”
Her shoulders square with the smallest hint of defiance before she plasters her gaze to the ground. “Lord, forgive me, we were ambushed by the Northerners.”
Evasion.
My cold smile thins before I enunciate, “Where are all of the wolves?”
Every one of the six dead Frost Fae would have ridden a white wolf. They would not have walked here. Yet none of the wolves is anywhere to be seen. Not a single pawprint rests within the sphere of the battle behind me. Which means the wolves left before the fight began. Even Nara stayed outside the battle’s perimeter.
Lilis swallows, but her voice remains impressively even. “The wolves fled when the Northerners appeared.”
Not all of them. Nara remained.
“Frightened, were they?” I take another look at Nara and the notable absence of any blood splatter on her coat.
From across the way, my wolf returns my stare without blinking before slowly curving her body closer around Thyra, making a shield of herself.
“Yes, Lord,” Lilis replies.
Hmm.
“Well, then,” I whisper, “if this carnage was perpetrated by the Northerners, then you, Lilis, are to blame for it.”
She sways on the spot but doesn’t object. “Yes, Lord.”
“Northerners were sighted last night,” I continue. “You had sufficient warning. I commanded you to fortify our defenses. You should have anticipated an attack on this place. I trust you didn’t make the same mistake with my palace?”
“No, Lord,” she says, her voice stronger. “The palace is secure.”
“Good.”
I exhale softly and allow the silence to stretch, observing her increasing trembles.
“What punishment, Lord?” she asks, her voice more strained than when she was telling me untruths.
“Behind me are six dead highborn Frost Fae,” I say, trickling ice into my speech. “Their master will demand retribution.”
Lilis’s jaw tightens, and her fingers twitch.
I know her fears.
I’ve known them ever since I pulled her from her hellish existence and elevated her to the head of my army. Those same fears will have burned through her body during the battle on this field. She has no mercy, and for good reason.
Icy power sizzles within my voice as I say, “You will have the bodies collected, coffins prepared, and ensure these men are returned to their master for burial.”
