“Beforewhat?” he growled, his midnight eyes flashing with worry.
“I think it’s scared I’m right.” She sucked in a lungful of misty air. “I don’t know how much time I have left before it finishes me off for good. We have to get inside that castle and kill Molt before it’s too late.” Because the Ruin would die with her, and no one would be able to stop the wood king then.
Lorcan wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with an intensity that made her toes curl. Hunger rose up inside of her, and a desperate need clenched her core. She leaned into him, relishing in his soft lips, the steady strength of his leather armor, the thick curls that brushed against her cheek.
He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. Heat and anger and desperate hope all churned together in the darkness of them. “We will get through this. I swear this to you.”
A sharp ache speared her heart. “Please don’t make promises you cannot keep.”
“I will keep this promise.” He grabbed the back of her neck, gripping her hair tight. “I will fight by your side until my breath is stolen from my lungs and until my heart stops beating. Until every star in the sky dies.Nothingwill take you from me ever again. Not even the strongest magic in the world.”
She curled her hands around his armor and pressed up onto her toes, kissing him one last time. She wished he were right. Surviving this and spending her life by his side was the only way she wanted her story to end.
“Come on,” she whispered. “As much as I wish I could stand here kissing you forever, the king grows stronger while I grow weaker.”
Lorcan hesitated before finally nodding and handing her a small dagger he’d strapped to his thigh. Reyna wished for her own weapon, but it was locked up somewhere inside that castle. With a deep breath, she wrapped her hand around the ice glass ring at her throat and sent up a prayer to whatever god might be looking down on them now.
They pressed out into the streets, joining the chaos of the battle. Warriors rushed past, screaming. Swords clashed against each other while arrows whistled through the air. Blood splashed against the black stone buildings. Bodies littered the ground.
Swallowing hard, she ran beside Lorcan as they dodged clusters of fighting fae. Her feet moved despite her weariness as a strange new lightness filled her limbs and heart. With her breath in her throat, she raised her eyes to the looming castle cast against the harsh red light of the sky. Ulaid Molt was squatting inside that castle, hiding away from the fight and likely feeding on another fae’s blood.
Anger rose like a storm, blocking out her exhaustion. She gripped the dagger tighter, just as a cluster of wood fae leapt in their path. Lorcan grunted, swinging his sword before they could react. Wingallock leapt into the sky, circling overhead.
“Reyna, stay back!” he shouted as the trio surrounded him. His first blow made contact, felling the wood fae with little effort. But the two others had seen him now, and they would not be so easily caught off guard.
“I mean, of course I’m not going to listen to you,” she shot back, whipping the dagger sideways, slashing it toward the nearest wood fae’s neck. The warrior leaned to the side, easily dodging her blow with a suspicious speed.
Reyna narrowed her eyes and sized him up. His pupils were dilated, and fresh blood painted his lips. Her stomach turned. “You know what my theory is about all these wood fae who drink blood before a battle?”
“You’re Reyna Darragh. And the High King.” The wood fae smiled, displaying teeth coated in crimson. “I can’t believe my luck.”
She ducked down as he swung his sword at her chest. The heavy steel shuddered past him, knocking him off balance. Reyna whipped back up, whirled behind him, and slid her dagger against his throat. He stilled.
“I think,” she said with a smile, “that only cowards drink blood. Too scared to fight us without it?”
He grunted, his neck bobbing against her blade. “I could say the same thing about you. Aren’tyouthe one who fought us in Fomorian Square with powers that aren’t your own?”
“That’s different,” she hissed, digging the blade in deeper. In the background, she heard the heavythunkof Lorcan felling another enemy.
“How is it different, princess?” he hissed back. “Because from where I’m standing, it’s the same damn thing.”
“Because I fought you all with ice. And I already had that power flowing through my veins.”
The wood fae frowned. “But that’s impossible. You can’t—”
Reyna was done talking. She sliced her dagger through the wood fae’s neck and watched him crumple to the ground. Something about his question had unnerved her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. Despite her newfound energy, the fog in her mind had yet to clear. She was only going through the motions, relying on her training and her instincts to get her through this fight.
Lorcan stepped up to her side, his chest heaving. Blood dripped from his sword. “I said to stay back.”
“And here I thought you knew me better than anyone else in the world.”
“You’re injured, Reyna,” he grumbled as he knelt to grab a second sword from one of the fallen warriors. “Your wound might be internal, but that doesn’t make it any less real.”
The distant clatter of swords grew louder. Reyna glanced over her shoulder toward the corner of the street. “More warriors will be here soon.”
He pushed up from the ground and tossed her the sword. Smiling, she took it and pocketed the dagger. “We should make a move for the castle. But when I say stay back, stay back.”
“Nope.” She twisted the sword this way and that, appreciating the glint of the red light against it. “I will do no such thing.”
