“Seems the bastard has run out of food.” Ulaid’s laughter boomed. “Looks like this damn siege is over sooner than we thought. A pity, really. It was just becoming a hell of a lot more fun.”
Reyna sucked a whistling breath in through her nose and stumbled away from the tent’s entrance. She couldn’t let Molt get into that city. If he did, he would drag every shadow fae alive into his spell. She’d seen what he’d done to the wood fae. She couldn’t let him to do that the shadow fae, to Lorcan.
Lorcan.Her gut twisted. Molt would kill him. All for that damn throne. The power of the seat.
“Come, let’s see how our army is faring.” The High King’s wooden seat creaked as he released it from his weight. “Then, we will take that damn city for our own, and I will finally hold that Seat of Power in my hands.”
He turned toward the tent’s flap. The king was coming. He was surrounded by his guards and several other advisors who were armed to the teeth. She stepped back into the shadows, heart raging like an out-of-control bonfire. If she had access to her Seelie magic, she could take them all out in a heartbeat.
Where the hell is Wingallock?
She tipped back her head to search the skies, but her familiar owl with his snow white wings was nowhere to be seen.
The king and his advisors would step out of the tent at any moment. She only had two options. Rush him and try to kill them all with her ice dagger. Or hurry toward Lorcan and hope she could outrun anyone who spotted her hasty rush to the wall.
She could warn him of what was coming.
But if she killed the king, the threat would never darken his door.
You’ll never be able to stop this. You’re too weak.The Ruin sprang out from the darkest parts of her mind, hissing words she was too afraid to think. Because they might very well be true. Without Seelie’s magic, how could she hope to win?
You father had the right idea, binding you to your role as princess. You were never meant to be a Shieldmaiden, were you? You’re too weak. You’re too cowardly. You’re too much of a failure to do anything but smile prettily at lords.
Reyna ground her teeth and shoved the Ruin back into the furthest corners of her mind. His magic pulsed beneath her skin, beckoning her to use it. A wild thought flew through her mind. Shecoulduse the Ruin. She could throw it all out of her and be done with it, right here and now. The storm would sweep across this war camp, destroying everyone and everything in sight. And the king would never get his hands on Lorcan Rothach.
For far too long, she stood in the shadows considering unleashing the destruction upon them all, knowing it would make her exactly what the Ruin feared.
The Namhaid.
Had it been right this whole time? Would her love for Lorcan be the undoing of them all?
“No.” The word scraped out of her throat, a guttural noise. “I won’t do it.”
A shudder shook her chest. It took every ounce of her concentration to block out the Ruin’s taunts, his spiteful words that twisted through her like poisonous snakes. She was so focused on the storm inside of her that she almost missed the king and his devotees exiting the tent.
She pushed out of the shadows and followed just behind them. Eyes narrowed, she drew her dagger once more, twisting her fingers tightly around the familiar hilt. The king strode in the center of them. His shadowsteel armor glinted beneath the moonlight. He’d added a helmet to the ensemble, creating an impenetrable mask between himself and any enemy.
Reyna let out a low, agitated whistle. He’d just made himself even more difficult to kill.
The king and his guards rushed into the chaos, Reyna only a few steps behind them. The battle raged in the dark. Arrows whistled through the air, punctuated by screams from wounded warriors. Steel sang with blood, and the scent of death swirled through a building mist that crept up Reyna’s legs as she ran.
Suddenly, a body hurtled toward her from the chaos. An air fae rose his sword over his head and threw his weight behind it. The blade whistled toward Reyna’s face. Gritting her teeth, she ducked to the side, missing it by a sliver of an inch.
Scowling at the golden warrior, she held her dagger down by her side. “I’m not your enemy. I’m an ice fae.”
“Then, why are you wearing Wood Court armor?” he shouted, lifting his sword once more. “Why is your hair so green?”
“Because I’m a spy,” she said quickly, keeping one eye on the king’s back. He’d managed to put some space between them. Bodies littered the ground where he’d charged. “I’m trying to kill the king.”
The air fae shot a quick glance at Molt. “The wood king? By yourself?”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“Yes.” Without another word, she twisted away from the fae and pounded her feet against the blood-drenched ground. She avoided glancing at the bodies, knowing what would happen if she did. The Ruin would surge back into her mind and remind her of her dreams. Battlefields and bodies. A place that looked just like this.
By the time she closed the distance between her and Molt, he’d already pushed past the edge of camp. He was now striding purposefully toward the wall, but only three warriors remained by his side. The others were still fighting in the battle.
Three was fine. And this might be her last chance to stop him before he got inside that city.
