And there was nothing he could do to unwind time and take it all back.
“I don’t care what I said. I will not allow you to destroy my city,” he said, twisting his hands around the hilt of his sword. “If you wish to fight me for it, then so be it, Aunt Iona. But I will never agree to this.Theseare my people, not the sea fae. And I will protect them with my life if I must.”
“That’s fine with me, dear nephew,” she said with a wicked smile. “The Seat of Power will be mine to claim.”
Iona whirled toward him, her sword raised. Thane threw up his own blade, knocking hers to the side. This time, she was the one who stumbled back, the one whose head rang from the intensity of the blow.
He strode toward her while she recovered, throwing all his weight behind the next blow. She barely got her sword up in time. His blade danced against hers, the steel edge driving up her forearm. Flesh sliced clean off, leaving behind nothing more than blood and bone.
Iona screamed. Even through her pain, she lifted her sword and charged. Thane ducked to the side, whipping his sword around behind her. He slashed it at her legs, making contact with the back of her knees. The steel scraped through her legs.
Iona cried out, falling face first into the dirt. Blood painted her skin as she scrabbled back away from him. Horror and pain churned across her pale face. Thane’s heart clenched as he stared down at her. Her hands fisted around the dirt, clinging on while the blood burbled from her wounds.
Her chest heaved. “I hope you never forget this moment for the rest of your miserable life.”
His heart twisted as a terrible sadness settled over him. “Trust me, I do not think I ever will.”
She spat on his boots. “You speak so proudly, so sure of your honor, dear nephew, but look what you’ve done. My blood paints your sword. My flesh has fallen onto your boots. You’ve done this to your own kin, and for what? Tell me, Thane. Tell me why you’re willing to fight your own.”
“I will do anything to protect my people. Maybe I wouldn’t have before, but I will now.” He sucked in a sharp breath, his words reminding him so much of someone else, of Reyna. “The last thing I ever wanted to do was raise my sword against you, but you’ve left me no choice.”
She hissed at him as he turned to go. “Coward. You can’t even kill me. Instead, you’re going to leave me in the dirt to rot, until all my blood pours out of me. How dare you.”
Something broke inside of him. She was right.
Thane closed his eyes, turned, and then brought his sword down onto her neck.
22
Reyna
Muffled voices drifted through the cracks of the cellar door. Reyna tensed, listening.
“We’re looking for Princess Reyna Darragh. She’s a traitor to the crown.”
“Which crown is that, exactly? Yours or mine?” Laoise’s voice was steely and firm without even a hint of fear. Reyna’s heart lifted, even as dread shuddered through her veins. Laoise should not stand up to these warriors. They would not hesitate to cut her down.
“Your crown, you bitch.” A sharpsnapechoed through the wood covering Reyna’s head. Her heart shot up into her throat. “Our king is yours now.”
“Kill her.” Another voice. A second guard. “King’s orders. Any shadow fae who refuses to recognize our king as theirs is to die.”
Reyna punched open the cellar door and leapt through the opening, landing in a deep crouch. She snarled at the wood fae and whipped her dagger from her waistband. Caught off guard, they stumbled away from Laoise. And then their eyes sparked, glinting, as recognition shifted through them.
“It’s her.” The larger of the two thundered toward her. She closed the distance between them, crashing into his chest. Pain radiated through her body at the contact, but she refused to let up. As he struggled to catch his balance, she whirled, dagger raised. It sank into his neck with a crunch. Blood coated her hands.
She ripped her blade out of his flesh and watched as he thunked onto the carpet. Laoise let out a little cry, stumbling back toward the corner.
Reyna turned her attention on the second wood fae. He stood frozen in the center of the room, his eyes locked on his friend’s bubbling neck. “You going to stand there or are you going to fight me?”
He wet his lips, took a step back toward the door. But Reyna could not let him escape. If he did, he’d report her whereabouts to the king immediately, as well as Laoise’s involvement. With a growl, Reyna shot across the floor.
Eyes wide, the wood fae reached behind his back for his bow and arrows. Bad idea. Reyna reached him just as his fingers brushed against the tip of an arrow. She slammed her blade into his chest, just below the bottom edge of his leather armor. He choked out a cry of pain. Reyna latched her hand around his arm, pulled him close, and then twisted the blade to the side.
Blood gurgled up in his throat, spilling through his open mouth. She yanked out her blade, huffing from the effort of it all. He tumbled to the floor to join his friend in death.
She hoped the both of them would rot in Ifrinn for eternity.
Laoise shuffled across the floor and slammed the door shut. She sagged against the wood, her eyes squeezed tight. Her trembling lips contrasted against the sudden paleness of her cheeks. Reyna let her arm fall heavily to her side.
