“Nikkolas Bloodstone prepared me for thisexactsituation,” Evereon said. “We will just have to rely on our food stores until Alastar the Mad gives up.”
The Mad.My heart ached.
Brietta grimaced at the name, but she hissed out a breath and kept writing notes. I cut a glance at all her plans neatly lined out on the parchment—none of it was any use. She had never met Alastar, he wouldneverallow Derrick to yield.
“What food stores?” Calder Anson shouted. “You mean the ones the fucking sorceress sent to Ravenwood?”
The bench jolted backward as Riyan leaped to his feet.
“Watch your fucking tone,” he growled.
The whole room went quiet. Some of the soldiers clutched the hilts of their swords, but Calder did not let up.
“Nice to see where your loyalties lie,for now.” He sneered. “Of course, when the General comes to the gate, you’ll just roll over for him like always.”
Riyan lunged toward Calder, but I wrapped a rope of magic around Riyan’s wrist, yanking him back before he could jump over the table.
I sent a whisper into Riyan’s mind, “Calm down, Riyan.”
He set his jaw and sent a message back. “I don’t give a shit if you’re Baron or not, no one runs their mouth about my family and lives.”
He held onto his fury and kept his eyes locked on Calder. Calder did not even flinch, but Endre stood between their death glares.
“Fire in the blood is what we need to stand against the Duke,” Endre said with a confident smile. “If it comes to steel against steel, we will need that passion to win!”
Brietta’s soft voice floated over the crowd, melting the tension in the room. “The Hytons do not fight with steel, but with false information.” Every soldier turned their eyes from snarling Riyan to her. “Captain Mydina, what have the Hytons been saying?”
The air in the room shifted as the collective attention turned to Evereon. Endre walked to stand beside him, keeping his weight on his toes in case someone else lashed out. Erik stayed seated at the table, watching everyone over steepled fingers.
I released my magical hold over Riyan’s wrist. He sat down at my side, rubbing his wrist where the tears must have tickled his skin.
Evereon cleared his throat. “The latest story Rosaline and I heard was that a sorceress absconded with the Duchess and is holding her prisoner.
Brietta rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Of course.”
I bit my tongue. I was the villain in Derrick’s narrative, not that I did not deserve it.
“And there’s an archer going around saying the sorceress placed a curse on his bride—made her skin boiling to touch,” Evereon said, his gaze jumping over my head as he addressed the crowd. “He’s showing everyone the burn marks on his neck to prove it.”
The soldiers murmured. Endre turned to me and I felt Erik’s cold black eyes on me as well. Although pride surged through my veins at having marked Grigory, I still turned to Annalisa. Her face had blanched. She had even stopped petting Magnus.
Evereon addressed the crowd, not me. “The army’s plan is simple—kill the sorceress to reverse the curse and free the Duchess.”
An invisible fist squeezed my heart. Derrick could not kill me, but he could make me wish I were dead. I could only hope Alastar merely hungered for conquest and not revenge.
The soldiers murmured, a few even shouting over the crowd.
“What will he do when he finds out she can’t die?”
“This is ridiculous!”
“Just turn the bitches over once he gets here!”
“I’m not dying for any damn Hyton!”
Brietta stood up and threw her shoulders back, but Annalisa slipped off the bench and ran. Magnus gave a low meow, upset at having been abandoned.
She passed me and pouring rainfall clattered in my mind. I placed my hand on Riyan’s shoulder, ready to send him a message to protect Brietta while I ran off for Annalisa, but a strong voice made me still.
