Slowly, Lorcan lowered his sword to the floor. Wild fear tangled inside her gut. She hissed at him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“He has Nollaig and Seg.”
“But you can’t—”
“You would do the same thing. For Eislyn.”
Her heart thumped. He was right. Dammit.
With a sigh, she dropped her sword to the floor. The guards quickly surrounded them, roughly tying their hands behind their backs and shoving them toward four cages that shifted into view from the shadows. Nollaig and Segonax sat in two of them, faces bloodied but alive.
Another illusion then. The king had been hiding these cages from view all this time.
“Your Highness.” Nollaig dropped her cloaked head into her gloved hand. “You shouldn’t have done this. He’s only going to end up killing us all.”
“I willneversacrifice you just to save myself, Nollaig,” he said through gritted teeth, shooting the guards a glare when they shoved him forward.
Reyna was silent. She kept her eyes glued to the wood king’s face, curious. He’d clearly set this trap for a reason, but why? The last time ‘Lorcan’ had stood before him, the wood king hadn’t hesitated even a moment to bring his sword down onto his neck. He wanted the throne’s power, a power he couldn’t have as long as Lorcan lived. So, why was he throwing him into a cage instead of killing him?
Molt’s eyes sparked with intensity as he watched his guards push her into a cage with Wingallock clinging tightly to her shoulder. They shoved Lorcan into the one next to hers. For a moment, she dragged her gaze away from the king, latching her eyes on Lorcan. He trembled with anger. His muscles tensed. His jaw rippled from the force of his clenched teeth. When he caught her gazing at him, his face relaxed. He shook his head, a signal that she understood in an instant. He didn’t want her to do anything reckless. Ha!
“Right.” The wood king sighed, leaning against one of the many black stone pillars. Rings glinted on his fingers with gems of crimson and ebony. He curled his hand around a goblet that sloshed with wine—or blood. His lips curled into a relaxed smile. He was enjoying this. “I see we’ve all finally joined the party. Welcome to my court. I realize I misspoke before. This is no longer the Shadow Court. Now, it’s the Court of Blood.”
Reyna rolled her eyes. “Of course it is. You know nothing of nuance.”
He arched a thin brow. “And the Ice Court is a nuanced name, is it?”
“Not really, but I didn’t name it.”
“And what would you have called your dear home if you’d had the chance?”
“The Court of Shards I Can’t Wait To Stab Into Your Heart.”
He blinked, and then chuckled. “That’s oddly specific.”
“And accurate,” she said with a vicious smile. “Did you know that ice can create deadly weapons? Deadly enough to kill a wood king.”
He pushed away from the pillar, waving his hand dismissively. “You and your misplaced moral outrage bores me. Guards, bring me the commander. What’s his name? Segonax?”
Fear spiked her heart as the guards rushed to Segonax’s cage. Reyna pressed up against the bars, wincing at the sudden sting of iron against her skin. The guards ripped open the cage and dragged Seg out. Her eyes swam with tears as they tossed him before the king, his knees knocking loudly against the hard floor.
“Leave him out of this,” Lorcan said in a voice as cold as the north, but Reyna knew that he would be breaking inside. Lorcan loved the commander more than he loved almost anyone in the world. “He has nothing to do with your quest for power. I do.”
Reyna fisted her hands. Nollaig started banging against the bars, mindless of the iron burn of them.
“Yes, but you see, this whole thing,” Molt said, waving his hand at the window that overlooked the battle-ravaged city, “has deeply annoyed me. You and your army from Caraid have interrupted my plans. And I need more blood.”
“Then, take mine,” Lorcan said, his voice insistent. “You want that throne?I’mthe one you need to kill. Not Commander Segonax.”
A snake squeezed Reyna’s heart. She wanted to shout at Lorcan to stop trying to sacrifice himself for the commander, but she knew he wouldn’t listen. No more than she would have if she’d been in his place.
The wood king laughed. “All this begging only makes me desire his blood even more.” The king’s smile glinted. He hauled back his leg and slammed his boot into Seg’s face. The old commander sputtered, blood spraying onto the stone floor. Reyna’s heart twisted. She reached out instinctively, desperate to help him. She’d never gotten to know the commander well, but she knew he was a good male. He’d didn’t deserve this. None of them did.
Trembling with anger, Reyna measured the space between the cage and the king. He was still too far away from her. Could she manage to force the Ruin in that direction? Or would it be trapped inside this cage just like her and Wingallock?
She glanced at Lorcan. His face had gone pale. With a shuddering sigh, she shook her head. She might try it, if not for him. But she could not risk the Ruin killing the one she loved. It was too close; too tight. And the Ruin was angry. It wanted blood.
Fisting her hands, she opened herself up to the storm once again.
