74. Chapter 74
R en stumbled through first, her tunic streaked with grime and blood, Ashrend clutched tightly in her hand. Behind her, Talen staggered, his sword dragging for a moment before he forced himself upright, the weight of battle carved across his face.
Sylven straightened, eyes darkening. “Seize them.”
At once, half a dozen of his men surged forward. The circle closed tight around Ren and Talen, blades leveled.
“They live still,” Sylven mused, striding toward them, his tone both admiring and venomous. “Impressive. But even stubborn flames must gutter out eventually. Tonight, you’ll drink with the rest or join the line for execution. You’ll die as your betters have. With dignity.”
Ren’s lip curled as she raised her blade, fire trembling at her fingertips despite the exhaustion that dragged at her bones. “Try me.” And then her gaze slipped past Sylven, past the soldiers, past the fearful faces of courtiers huddled in corners.
To Elira.
Standing at Sylven’s side, Elira’s braid fell loose around her shoulders. Her hand rested on the hilt of her dagger, but she did not draw it. She didn’t need to.
Her stance was declaration enough.
Ren’s breath punched out of her chest .
Elira’s eyes met hers. There was no denial there, no shame.
Sylven’s smile widened as he followed Ren’s stare. “Ah, you’ve noticed.” His hand gestured lightly to Elira. “Our smith was never yours, human filth. She was mine from the beginning. A trained assassin whose initial mission was to kill him .” He gestured to Talen.
The words landed like a blade driven between Ren’s ribs.
“She betrayed us,” Talen rasped, voice raw with disbelief.
Elira tilted her chin. “I was never yours to betray.” She flung the braid of her hair over her shoulder, uncovering the sharp, graceful point of her ear.
Fae.
Ren’s breath caught. The human girl she’d known had been nothing more than a glamour. Ren’s eyes swept frantically across the chaos, her pulse hammering as nobles screamed and soldiers clashed steel. And then the storm momentarily calmed when she found Kaelin.
Alive.
Their gazes locked across the carnage.
Until Sylven slithered into the space, blocking Ren’s view with icy precision. “Your presence here is an offense. Human filth does not gawk at my future queen. Remember your place.”
It was too late. Ren had quickly taken in the sight of Kaelin’s flushed cheeks, the wild strands of hair clinging to her face, and something inside her snapped.
The relief was gone, burned to ash by a cold, violent fury.
He’d touched her.
Ren’s magic surged, roaring up from her chest like fire meeting oil. Every thought narrowed to a single truth that rang through her bones.
Sylven had laid hands on Kaelin. And he was going to die for it.
Ren bared her teeth. “Big mistake, bastard.”
She lunged, fire detonating beneath her skin. Sylven twisted aside with inhuman grace, her fist slicing through the space where his jaw had been a heartbeat earlier. She struck again, but Sylven slipped past every blow like smoke.
Her magic surged hotter, spilling from her palms in a flash of blistering heat .
This time, she caught him – fire licked across his sleeve, cloth blackening, edges curling. Sylven hissed, staring at the scorched fabric as if it were the gravest insult he'd ever received.
His lips peeled back. “Enough.”
Three soldiers closed in from behind. Ren whirled.
Too late.
A baton cracked across her ribs. Another caught her jaw, white light bursting behind her eyes. She snarled, flames flaring again, but a boot slammed into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her.
Blow after blow rained down – fists, knees, armored cuffs smashing into bone. Ren fought for each gasp, her vision tunneling, limbs refusing to answer as pain stacked and stacked until she was swaying on her feet.
A final strike to the temple nearly dropped her.
Hands fisted in her hair.
The world yanked downward.
Ren hit her knees hard enough to jar her skull. Her head was wrenched back by her hair, her gaze forced upward into Sylven’s cold, gleaming eyes.
“You should have stayed down,” he murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction.
Ren’s gaze shifted, taking in the full horror of the hall.
Near the dais, Lyra was on her knees before a soldier, a blade pressed to her throat.
Nearby, King Maelion fought like a cornered beast, his sword flashing, cutting down two fae before another plunged a blade into his shoulder, driving him to his knees with a strangled cry.
Sylven stepped back towards Kaelin and lifted his hand with effortless grace.
Shadows rippled outward, twisting and folding into a dark, shimmering portal that bled across the air like ink in water.
He gave a sharp nod to a nearby soldier who seized Kaelin.
Kaelin twisted, aiming a fierce punch at his face, teeth bared in a snarl.
But the soldier dodged, driving his elbow up beneath her chin.
He caught her around the waist, pinning her struggling form against his armor while dragging her toward the waiting void.
“Unhand her, bastard!” Talen roared, his teeth bared in something primal, more beast than prince.
Ren surged forward despite her vision blurring, snapping her head into the nose of the guard nearest her.
Cartilage crunched beneath the blow, blood spurting hot across her cheek.
Ashrend snagged into the next soldier’s side, ripping uselessly across his armor.
Another came at her, and she carved through him, her blade singing.
But they swarmed too many. Rough hands seized her from behind, another soldier’s fist crashing into Ren’s jaw so hard, stars burst across her vision.
Her knees buckled, the taste of copper flooding her mouth.
They forced her down again, pressing her against the cold stone until her muscles screamed.
“Ren!” Kaelin cried out.
Talen snapped curses, thrashing, but the numbers pressed them under.
Sylven’s boots clicked against the floor as he stepped forward, his composure unshaken amidst the slaughter. He studied Ren on her knees, her lip split and bleeding.
“Perhaps we slit her throat here,” he mused, voice almost thoughtful. His hand lifted, elegant as though conducting a symphony. “Let the Flamebearer bleed into the marble and watch the fire gutter out of her eyes.”
Ren’s head hung heavy, blood dripping from her split lip onto the marble. She forced her gaze up, forced the words through her clenched teeth as she met Elira’s steady gaze, who remained by Sylven’s side.
“Why?” Ren rasped.
Elira stepped closer. “Pray, you were so pathetic.” Her eyes glittered with cruel amusement.
“You wanted a friend so badly in this wretched little life that you welcomed me without even asking who I really was. No questions. No caution.” She crouched just enough to sneer into Ren’s bloodied face.
“For someone who’s been betrayed before, I expected better.
And yet, there you were. Whispering your secrets during drunken escapades, telling me about the royal family, about Talen, about her.
” Elira’s gaze slid to Kaelin, who still struggled against the soldier’s grip. “Absolutely pathetic.”
Ren’s jaw tightened until her teeth ached, rage flooding her veins like wildfire.
Elira straightened as she moved toward Talen. Her dagger hovered, her free hand reaching for the goblet of poisoned wine. “Perhaps your prince will be the next to choke on his own blood. ”
Talen roared, surging to his feet, but two soldiers seized him before he could reach her.
He fought viciously, knocking one back with his shoulder, but the other slammed an armored fist into his gut, driving the air from his lungs.
His sword clattered from his grasp, skidding across the marble to rest a few feet away.
The soldiers forced him down, pinning his arms as he strained against their weight, teeth bared.
Elira only smiled, lifting her blade and lowering it to Talen’s neck.
He fought wildly, sputtering out curses, but the fae soldiers held him still under the steel.
Elira dragged the blunt edge along his skin, savoring his struggle.
“Pity. The dagger’s duller than I’d like. Your death may be inconveniently slow.”
Ren lurched forward, vision swimming. “Wait—don’t—don’t hurt him.
” Her words spilled out in a frantic rush.
“He’s good, he’s better than any of us. He doesn’t deserve this.
He saves people—he saved me . He doesn’t deserve to die.
” She sobbed as she dragged herself forward, even as a soldier tightened his grip on her hair.
Through gritted teeth, she seethed, “Kill me instead. Use me. Gods, just don’t take him . ”
Talen jerked against the soldiers restraining him, but when he found Ren’s gaze, something inside him went quiet. His eyes softened.
“When the Veil takes me,” he said, “I’ll meet you on the other side. You won’t be alone.”
Ren collapsed forward, a scream ripping out of her so violently she tasted blood.
“NO—NO—NO!”
Ren’s voice cracked, failed, but she screamed anyway, clawing at the ground as Elira lifted her dagger.
“DON’T TAKE HIM— TAKE ME! ”
And then Elira brought the dagger down.