Sweat dampens my forehead. Black dots burn at the edges of my vision. The back of my neck throbs around the talisman, the source of all that agony. What just happened? It’s never done that to me before. It’s like…like it was burning something into me.
“Ang, are you all right?” Brioc asks gently, his hand warm and steady on my shoulder.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, my voice raw. “My talisman. It—”
The tent flap soars open. Several Rhyfelwyr storm inside in battle leathers, moving so fast my vision blurs around them.Their heavy footsteps slam into the ground, each one making me flinch.
Whatever the talisman did, it has left me reeling.
“What’s going on?” Brioc demands. “We heard shouting.”
“No talking,” the one in the lead barks.
They move behind us and unfasten our chains from the tree, though they leave the manacles locked tight around our wrists. Someone roughly hauls me to my feet, and I sway, my mind and vision wavering like the ground itself is shuddering.
“You fucking bastards did something to her,” Brioc snarls. “Let her go. She can barely stand.”
“Shut your mouth, or we will cleave your head from your body.”
“Unchain me, hand me my sword, and then we’ll see how brave you Order puppets are,” Brioc snaps back.
My vision swims, but I still catch the flash of steel cutting through air. Horror claws its way up my throat. I wrench free from the guard holding me with more strength than I thought I possessed and lunge for Brioc’s attacker.I can’t let him die.
I collide into the Rhyfelwr’s middle, knocking him off balance as his blade whistles past Brioc’s throat, barely missing him.
We crash into the ground in a tangled heap. I slam onto my side. The force of the impact jars my bones, rattling my skull.
A splitting pain goes through my head, and all I can do is curl my fingers into the dirt and hold on.
“That fucking Swynwraig bitch,” the warrior mutters beside me.
“Stop being dramatic,” the leader snaps. “Get her up. Move.”
“Touch her, and I will shatter every one of you.”
The icy voice whips through the tent with power, enough that the ground seems to tremble beneath us. I close my eyes anddraw in a ragged breath, relief and something dangerously close to hope tangling in my chest.He’s here.
The thought is like a sigh, fear unspooling all at once. Whatever we are to each other—whatever undoing fate has planned for us—I know without question he would never let anyone hurt me. No,theywill be the ones to hurt instead.
“Get her. Now. And go out the back. I’ll handle him,” the leader orders, though his voice wavers, sounding less certain now.
A surge of bitter cold blasts through the tent. I shiver violently, teeth clenched, lungs burning from the intensity of it.
“You freeze us all, and she dies, too,” the leader warns.
“Let her go,” Taliesin commands. “I won’t say it again.”
A hand seizes my arm and drags me to my feet. Through blurred vision, all I see is silver. Heart pounding, I reach for him, but I’m dragged backwards, away from the pull of cold. Away from him.
The temperature suddenly plummets. All the breath in my lungs stalls and my pulse slows, like death itself has come. The guard suddenly releases me, and I fall to my knees. Palming the ground, I meet Taliesin’s gaze across the tent. His blackened eyes are burning into me.
“Stay low,” he says so softly I’m not entirely sure if I’ve heard him, or if my mind has fractured so much that I’m imagining things now.
Taliesin lifts his hand. Frost races up the nearest guard’s boots, climbing leather and flesh in the same breath. He stumbles, swearing, and tries to shake it off, but the ice has already taken hold. His boots freeze in place against the ground.
“No, please—” another slurs as frost seals his jaw mid-word.
Taliesin doesn’t look at any of them. His eyes are on me.
