“Get your guns and your weapons, and hurry,” Vincent said to Jane as she instantly came to her feet, reaching for the dagger beside the bed.He was already halfway across the room, slinging on his clothes and weapons with lethal efficiency. She didn’t bother with questions—he would tell her what was necessary. She hopped into her pants and boots.“I think we’ve been betrayed,” Vincent said, and her fingers caught on a buckle of her swordbelt as she turned to the open window. Quiet. Absolute quiet in the forest.And along the horizon, a growing smear of blackness. “They’re coming tonight,” she breathed.“I did a sweep of the perimeter.” Vincent stuffed a knife into his boot. “It’s as if someone told them where every trap, every warning bell is located. They’ll be here within the hour.”“Are the ward-stones still working?” She finished braiding her hair and strapped her guns across her back.“Yes—they’re intact. I raised the alarm, and Malakai and the others are readying our defense
When was the last time the past made sense to you? Or it holds no sweet memories just like mine?.I am not good with memories, but I definitely cannot forget the one that has completely changed the course of my life forever.That night will remain as cold blooded as anything I will ever know. It still sends cold waves to my entire body.That night, I sat in my old, worn-out armchair, deep in thought. The dimly lit room echoed with silence, as I cast my mind back on the events that had molded my life…Not for good.Once, there was a time when my family was whole and complete, a loving unit bound by unbreakable bonds. It was impossible not to feel the warmth of my mother's embrace, the sound of my father's laughter, and the mischievous adventures shared with my only brother, Jadon. We were inseparable, a family filled with endless joy and happiness. I used to wonder if Jadon and I were actually siblings, because we behaved like two lovebirds who would rather prefer death than be separat
Trumpets announced his arrival. Trumpets and silence as the people of Olive crowded the steep streets winding up to the white palace that watched over them all. It was the first sunny day in weeks—the snow on the cobblestone streets melting quickly, though the wind still had a final bite of winter to it, enough so that the Avalon and his entire massive party were bundled in furs that covered their regalia.Their gold and crimson flags, however, flapped in the crisp wind, the golden poles shining as brightly as the armor of their bearers, who trotted at the head of the party. She watched them approach from one of the balconies off the throne room, Aiden at her side running a constant commentary about the state of their horses, armor, weapons—about the Avalon himself, who rode near the front on a great black warhorse. There was a pony beside him, bearing a smaller figure. “His sniveling son,” Aiden told her.The whole castle was miserably quiet. Everyone was dashing around, but sil
Vincent lifted his chin. “I have a friend. He is to be Lord of Anielle someday, and the fiercest warrior in the land.”She doubted Aiden would like that claim, but her cousin remained focused down the table. She wished she’d kept her mouth closed. Even this useless foreign prince had friends. The pounding in her head increased, and she took a drink of her water. Water—always water to cool her insides.Reaching for her glass, however, sent spikes of red-hot pain through her head, and she winced. “Princess?” Quinn said, always the first to notice.She blinked, black spots forming. But the pain stopped.No, not a stop, but a pause. A pause, then—Right between her eyes, it ached and pressed at her head, trying to get in. She rubbed her brows. Her throat closed up, and she reached for the water, thinking of coolness, of calm and cold, exactly as her tutors and the court had told her. But the magic was churning in her gut—burning up. Each pulse of pain in her head made it worse.“Princes
A few days after the unforgivable, despicable slave massacre, Sorscha was finishing up a letter to her friend when there was a knock on her workroom door. She jumped, scrawling a line of ink down the center of the page.Levi popped his head in, grinning, but the grin faltered when he saw the letter. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, slipping in and shutting the door. As he turned, she balled up the ruined paper and chucked it into the rubbish pail.“Not at all,” she said, toes curling as he nuzzled her neck and slipped his arms around her waist. “Someone might walk in,” she protested, squirming out of his grip. He let her go, but his eyes gleamed in a way that told her when they were alone again tonight, he might not be so easy to convince. She smiled.“Do that again,” he breathed.So Sorscha smiled again, laughing. And he looked so baffled by it that she asked, “What?”“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.She had to look away, go find something to do with
Levi ’s skin was pasty and gleamed with sweat. “This is how he did it, isn’t it?”Benjamin nodded. “Ten years ago, with those three towers. They were all built years before so that this could happen precisely when his invading forces were ready, so no one could strike back. Your father’s spell must be far more complex, to have frozen magic entirely, but on a basic level, this is probably similar to what occurred.”“I want to see where they are—the towers.” Benjamin shook his head, but Levi said, “You’ve told me everything else already. Show me the damn map.”With a wipe of his hand, a god destroying a world, Levi knocked down a crystal, releasing the power. The ice melted, the water rippling and sloshing against the bowl. Just like that. Benjamin blinked.If they could knock out one tower … It was such a risk. They needed to be sure before acting. Benjamin pulled out the map Murtaugh had marked, the map he didn’t dare to leave anywhere. “Here, here, and here,” he said, pointing
“The leaders feared us and what we’d become. They thought the warriors or beasts would handle us, if we didn’t have each other to lean against. They were wrong.” His eyes glittered fiercely. “What they learned was that we love each other as true brothers. And there was nothing that we wouldn’t do, no one we wouldn’t kill, to reach each other. To save each other. We killed our way across the mountains, and made it through the Breaking—the worst of Ramiel’s three routes to the top—and we won the damn thing. We touched the stone in the same moment, the same breath, and entered the Carynthian tier of warriors.”Jane failed to keep the shock off her face. “And you say only twelve have become Carynthian … in five hundred years?”“No. Twelve made it to the mountain and became Oristian. Only three others, besides us, won the Blood Rite and became Carynthian.” His throat bobbed. “They were fine warriors, and led exemplary units. We lost two of them against Hybern.”Likely in that blast that
“I have a proposition for you.”Stomach muscles throbbing, legs aching, Jane stood before Clotho’s desk as the priestess finished writing on whatever manuscript she was annotating, her enchanted pen scratching along.Clotho lifted her head when the pen dotted its last mark and wrote on a scrap of paper, Yes?“Would you allow your priestesses to train with me every morning in the ring at the top of the House? Not all of them—just whoever might be interested.”Clotho sat perfectly still. Then the pen moved. Train for what?“To strengthen their bodies, to defend themselves, to attack, if they wish. But also to clear their minds. Help steady them.”Who will oversee this training? You?“No. I’m not qualified for that. I’ll be training with them.” Her heart pounded. She wasn’t sure why. “Vincent will be overseeing it. He’s not handsy— I mean, he’s respectful and …” Jane shook her head. She sounded a proper fool.Beneath the shadows of her hood, Jane could sense Clotho’s gaze lin