Page 183 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

Every second you stand here debating…

I knew exactly what delay could cost. My jaw ached from clenching it so hard.

But I had to do the right thing. No matter how furious I was. No matter what.

I lifted a single hand, far steadier than it had any right to be, and flooded the hall with shadows. They swallowed torchlight, raised aloft by the rage roaring in my chest like an angry lion. A wall of black rose around the assembled men, looming in the shape of a topless dome.

Gasps came from the gawking civilians. Despite their training, fear showed itself. The nearest rank of enemy shifted on their feet and adjusted their grips.

Inside my mind, the battle raged on. Move, the bond demanded, desperate for Lunette. Destroy them, the power urged. What are you waiting for?

My chest burned with the effort of holding it back, of forcing breath into lungs that wanted to feed the violence building beneath my ribs. Every heartbeat felt stolen. Every second I stood still was another in which she was unprotected. I couldn't waste time fighting them, but I couldn't become the demon they feared, either.

Honing the rage into a razor-sharp edge, I forced the shadows into utter stillness around the soldiers.

“Step aside,” I said, my voice cutting easily through the charged silence. “Your lord has betrayed the crown.”

The line held. For a breathless second, no one moved. Then, an officer in a decorated helm snapped a command under his breath.

The shieldwall took one unified step forward.

My blood screamed in triumph. I’d given them a chance.

Slivers broke off from the umbral dome and wove through the spaces between men, seeking out the officers like a flock of ravens swooping in to feast at the gallows.

That first commander turned his head, frowned at me, and then the shadow at his throat morphed into a blade and punched forward. He fell to the ground with a clatter of crashing steel. Another leader down the line reached for his sword, trying to fight, but stopped halfway. His eyes went wide with the morbid understanding of what held his arm back right before the light behind them died.

Three more sharp impacts echoed as other bodies fell to the stone floor in a pool of their own blood. The soldiers watched as their leaders sank soundlessly to the ground. Every decorated helm now held a corpse.

Gasps broke through the formation as the shadows that had hit their marks withdrew into the dome like a patient tide.

The shieldwall wavered. At its edge, a boy swayed under the weight of a shield too large for him, some lord's promise of glory having clearly cost him his childhood. His eyes found mine over its rim, and what I saw there wasn't courage. It was raw terror

I stared back at him for one moment, acknowledging his presence, letting him see who I was—letting him see that I was making a choice. Then I looked away, because he hadn’t chosen this.

“Step. Aside,” I repeated. “You are Larethian. The same as the men you hold at sword point. Justice has been served to those who are responsible for you being here. Make the choice. Now!” I roared the last.

Then I walked forward. The soldier to my left shifted first, a half-step back that opened the smallest gap. The next man did the same. Then another. The formation unraveled in quiet increments until the shieldwall became an avenue.

I could’ve driven every man in this hall to his knees. Could’ve crushed every throat at once until loyalty was all they remembered.

The darkness demanded it.

The bond urged anything to hasten my steps.

But dead men were martyrs. Dead men didn’t carry warnings and tales. Every man walking out of this hall was a message—to Coryanthus, to the damned Assembly, to anyone else who thought they understood who and what I was.

I passed through the mass, shadows trailing, purposefully brushing them against armor and skin without harm. Reminders. I could feel the weight of their stares, the understanding settling in its wake.

I could’ve slaughtered every last one of them. But they would remember that I hadn’t.

Out of the hall, I was done being patient. My boots hit the stone floor hard enough to feel it in my teeth. As we neared the family wing, the pull of the bond became almost unbearable.

Camrick was half a step behind me, sword drawn, his men following further back. We moved too fast to talk. Reina had said they intended to kill the king, but I had definitive proof from the bond that Lunette was in danger.

I'd left her well-guarded. I hadn't accounted for treachery from within. My mind had been consumed by the Assembly, the danger to Berian, a conspiracy I thought I was close to unraveling. Coryanthus had never crossed my mind as anything but an annoyance.

He’d used my own blind spot against me. And now she was paying for it. Shadow gathered at my chest, conjuring guilt into a blade only I could feel, and buried it to the hilt.