Page 173 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

Ember pressed herself against the wall, trembling like a kitten cornered by wolves.

Snow rushed to them without hesitation. Ember practically leapt into her arms, clinging to her like a lifeline. Snow gathered Rose’s hand in her own, glaring daggers at the intruders.

“What is wrong with you?” she snapped, voice sharp with protective fury.

Rain stepped deeper into the room; his gaze locked on the male holding Briar. He took her from his arms with a controlled, lethal calm, pulling her close to his chest. He scanned her energy thoroughly; searching for signs of injury.

She was unharmed.

Just unconscious.

Forced into slumber.

His jaw tightened.

Only then did he turn back to the room.

“Where is Rosenberry and Scarlet?” he demanded.

No one answered quickly enough.

Rain’s head snapped toward Isarion.

The Elder clutched his forearm, grimacing; Briar’s hit had clearly landed before she was subdued. Rain’s fury eased only slightly.

“Isarion,” Rain said, voice low and dangerous. “Explain yourself. Quickly. And don’t miss the part where I was not informed of your arrival—meaning I was not here to prevent you from further traumatising the princesses under my care and protection.”

Isarion lowered his hood, adjusting his long white braid over his shoulder before bowing deeply. The others followed suit.

“Your Majesty,” Isarion began, voice steady but tinged with regret, “the lack of communication with you directly was unwise. I spoke with David and expected he would inform you of our arrival. It will not happen again.”

He remained bowed but risked a glance upward. His sky-blue eyes, framed by thick white brows, searched Rain’s expression.

Rain exhaled sharply through his nose.

“It is unacceptable, Elder. I expected better from you.”

He nodded toward Isarion’s arm.

“At least Briar got a hit in before you incapacitated her. It hurts, doesn’t it.”

Isarion rubbed his arm with a wince. “Oh yes. A powerful little gem she is.”

“It will linger,” Rain said coolly. “Let it serve as a reminder not to encroach on my residence without permission.”

His patience was thin, still frayed from the confrontation with his father and he would not tolerate disrespect from those who claimed fealty to him.

“The Duke,” Rain continued. “Where is he? And for gods’ sake, rise.”

The robed visitors lifted their heads. Isarion smiled faintly, pride flickering in his aura — he saw a king forming before him.

“He is outside, Sire,” Isarion said. “The other princess panicked at the sight of us. He allowed us entry and hurried her outside. That triggered the young fire-forged to attack me. Our sister Lesker”—he motioned to the woman beside him—“used her ability to render someone unconscious. It was a necessary act, though it is painful if resisted. The youngling screamed, but she is unharmed, as you can see. We arrived only moments before you.”

Rain huffed, irritation softening into reluctant acceptance.

“Our versions of ‘necessary’ differ, Isarion,” he muttered. “But it is good to see you.”

He placed Briar gently on the antique cushioned couch, brushing a stray curl from her deceptively angelic face. A pang of worry tugged at him, but he pushed it aside. She was safe.