The hooded fae rushed forward, but Reyna was ready. She caught his wrist with her hand and shoved him back. Surprised flickered in his eyes as his hood slipped back. She quickly sized up her opponent. Male, as she’d suspected. Light brown hair that hung to his shoulders. Flashing dark green eyes. Thin but likely stronger than he looked.
Growling, he took another swing at Reyna’s head. She ducked low, just in time to avoid the blade.
“Cease this,” he said as he pulled himself tall. “Youwilldie here tonight. I will make certain of it. Stop fighting. It will merely prolong your suffering.”
“You do not know how very wrong you are.” Reyna smiled. “Nor with whom you are dealing.”
The assassin let out a bitter laugh. “You are a princess.”
“You’re right. An unarmed princess. This is clearly an unfair fight. You think I’m weak? Then provide me with one of those other daggers you have hidden somewhere inside that cloak.” Reyna continued to smile. “Or are you too afraid to make it a fair fight?”
The assassin narrowed his eyes. “You’re merely trying to distract me. These games will not save you, princess.”
“This isn’t a game,” Reyna replied, holding up her hands. “Fight me fairly. If you win, then you can go boast about your accomplishments to the ladies at the House of Skin.”
She had gotten him with that. Reyna could see it in his eyes. She just wished she wasn’t wearing this stupid courtly gown. The long skirts would surely get in her way.
“Reyna,” Eislyn hissed from behind her. “Please do not do this. We should call for the prince.”
“The prince is nowhere to be seen, Eislyn. We must protect ourselves.”
She felt her sister’s hands unclench the back of Reyna’s gown, and then heard as she took several steps back. “I will go fetch help.”
“No!” the assassin shouted. “If you run for help, I will not give your sister a fair fight.”
Eislyn froze.
The assassin pulled a second dagger from the depths of his cloak. “Here.”
Reyna took the steel, her fingers sliding appreciably across the golden hilt. “What are your terms? When will you surrender?”
“At death,” he replied gravely.
A shudder went through her, but she hid it well. Reyna had duelled before. As a Shieldmaiden, she had often been forced to stop a brawl between warriors. Many had wished to duel her as a way to settle the fight. But the win always came at first blood, never at death.
She curled her fingers tight around the hilt, steadying her nerves. If she died, Eislyn would be next. She wasn’t just fighting to save her own life. For the first time in a very long while, Reyna stared face-first into danger.
Her blood hummed in her veins. She focused, sharpening her senses. Every speck of dust in the air seemed to swirl around her as she lowered herself into a crouch.
Then, before the assassin could react, she charged, slamming her shoulder into his gut. Surprised, he stumbled back. With a grunt, she slammed into his stomach again. He dropped his blade, grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her back.
Reyna leapt toward him, her skirts swishing around her feet, her arms outstretched. Her feet left the ground. He grabbed her arms, knelt and threw her back over his head where she landed hard on the stone ground and rolled, her gown bunching up all around her. Pain lanced through her body, but she ignored it for now. Panting, she scrambled to her feet, narrowing her eyes.
He was a better fighter than she’d suspected. But she was certain the same could be said in reverse.
The assassin flashed her a wicked grin, and then twisted toward her sister. He charged. Reyna let out a guttural roar. She raced after him, her blade held high. Her feet tripped on her skirts, and she tumbled to the floor.
He reached Eislyn first. Her sister stumbled back, eyes wide, her face white as snow. Time seemed to slow as he threw his dagger toward her, and then the tip of the blade sunk deep into her gut. Blood sprayed from the wound, drenching Eislyn’s silver gown.
Reyna roared, fear tripping through her veins. She jumped to her feet and lunged toward the assassin, her arms outstretched. With a fury she’d never felt, she thrust her dagger toward his head. The blade crunched as it hit bone. His body went limp and tumbled to the floor.
It fell with a sickening thump.
“Eislyn!” Reyna fell to her knees beside her sister. She bent over Eislyn’s body and placed trembling hands over the wound in her stomach. But she couldn’t stop the blood, and she couldn’t remove the blade for fear of making the wound even worse. There was nothing she could do but find help. Through the haze of fear, she lifted Eislyn into her arms and rushed through the dark corridor, shouting for help.
She didn’t know how long she ran or where she went, but soon, she was surrounded by dozens of air fae guards. Gold flooded the darkness. Lorcan’s familiar face flashed before her, but she could barely see him. The fear of losing Eislyn was almost too much for her to bear.
“Reyna?” Thane appeared before her. His eyes went wide as he caught sight of the blood on Reyna’s hands and face, the wound in Eislyn’s gut. Instantly, he turned toward his guards and shouted orders. Reyna barely heard him, too overcome by the panic clutching her heart. Eislyn was dying in her arms.
