“You have been fighting against me since my return to this world. Even before then, if I take your vow to your mother into consideration,” she started.
“Don’t you dare speak of my mother,” he said, snarling.
She waved his objection away. “And yet here I am, willing to allow you and yours to live. On one condition. Put away your weapons. Stop this madness, this ridiculous fighting. Look at you. You’re drenched in mud. Not quite the majestic, powerful fae king that you present yourself as, eh? But I can make all your storms disappear.” Andromeda waved at the silver-haired woman named Pandora, the God of Storms. The surrounding rain began to slow. “I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of. A continent to rule. Powerful allies. All you have to do is join us against Talaven. And if you don’t, you will prove yourself to be the weak, spineless king everyone has always suspected you to be.”
Fenella lifted her bow and shot an arrow at Andromeda. It whistled in the sudden silence, and the arrow struck true. The tip sliced deep into Andromeda’s neck.
I couldn’t breathe.
A deadly silence pounded down on us. No one moved. Andromeda stared at Fenella with furious hatred boiling in her deep black eyes. Blood dribbled down her neck from the puncture wound. And then she wrapped her long fingers around the arrow and yanked it from her skin.
The wound closed up, healing instantly. Eyes still locked on Fenella, Andromeda dragged her finger across the trail of blood and tasted it.
“Any dissenters will be put to death.” Her glittering eyes shifted to Kalen. “Kill her, and I will take that as proof you accept the terms of my deal.”
Kalen pulled a dagger from a sheath strapped to his upper thigh. He flipped it in his hands before turning to Fenella. The blue-horned light fae lifted her chin, exposing her neck—her lifeblood—to her king.
“You always were a volatile, violent creature,” Kalen murmured to her. “Out of all my Mist Guard, you’re the one most difficult to predict. Fortunately, I quite like volatile creatures.”
He hauled back his arm and launched the dagger. It spun, end over end, toward Andromeda. She hissed and ducked to the side, though the sharp tip grazed her cheek. Once again, the wound healed instantly, but she looked enraged.
“How dare you?” She leapt from the pile of bodies to land in the mud before us. “Everything I’ve done is to protect you fucking fae, and this is how you thank me? This is what you do to the one who is trying to save your world?”
Kalen strode toward her, his body a bundle of pent-up rage. I reached out to pull him back, but his cloak slipped through my fingers. When he reached her, he wrapped his hand around the front of her armor and lifted her from the ground. She let him do so.
“You killed my mate,” he spat into her face. “I don’t care who you think you’re saving. Your words meannothingto me. You can take your offer, and you can shove it up your arse.”
He released her and shoved her back. Andromeda stumbled slightly, her boots squishing in the mud. Tension throttled me. She wouldn’t let him walk away from this. She was too proud to let a lowly fae treat her this way.
A slow smile stretched across her face. She slashed her nails at his cheek. The sharp tips made contact, gorging four deep lines of blood into his skin. Kalen didn’t even flinch. He lifted his sword and swung it at her head.
Andromeda sighed when she saw it coming, but she didn’t move. Instead, she waited for the contact this time. Her skin suddenly rippled like a sheen of glass passed over the surface of it. The blade hit her neck, bouncing off. Kalen nearly lost his grip on it. A thin line of blood across her throat was the only evidence it had even hit her.
She started to advance on Kalen with fury in her eyes. “Your weapons are useless against us. Your power is useless when we mute it. Your mate was the only one who could wield it against us, and she is dead. Give up, Kalen Denare. Swear your fealty to us, or you will take your final breaths on this muddy battlefield. You will be remembered as the king who could not protect his people because he was too proud to kneel before a god.”
Kalen spat at her feet. “You Lamiae are not our gods, and I will not doom my people to an eternity of serving you.”
“Then so be it,” she growled.
Just then, Caedmon—Pollux—returned. He thundered to the ground, leaned in close to Andromeda, and whispered something into her ear. I couldn’t hear it, but Kalen did. He straightened and returned to the front of our unit while Andromeda was distracted. Her face reddened as she listened to Pollux’s report.
He turned toward me and his Mist Guard, mouthing the words. “Talaven has arrived. They’re attacking the fae on the other side of the bridge.”
His words stole my breath. I gazed up at the wall of bodies, wishing I could see past it, wishing I could search the fields for Val. I hoped she wasn’t in the throng of it, but I knew she would be. She’d want to be out there, fighting for those she loved.
“Niamh and Alastair?” Toryn asked quietly.
“Not mentioned, but we can only hope.”
“They’ve come for us,” Fenella breathed.
Kalen nodded, still mouthing the words so the gods couldn’t hear him. “There could be enough of them to fight the army still on the other side of the bridge. All we need is a way to destroy the go—”
A whistle sounded, then Andromeda roared, “Kill them all!”
Her unit of storm fae warriors shouted, raising their weapons. They charged toward us. Some slid down the hill of bodies. Others leapt. I could feel our own warriors tensing around us. The battle against the beasts had been nothing but a way to lull us into a false sense of security. The real war was upon us now.
“Nock!” Kalen lifted his arm. “Loose!”
