Chapter Fifty
ChApter
Fifty
Dante
Ipush my horse hard, Sir Holden and Sir Donovan riding close behind.
It didn’t take much convincing to get them to accompany me.
Once they realized Celeste was truly missing, they threw themselves into the mission.
My knuckles are raw against the reins, my jaw locked tight.
By the time the Garrison’s stone walls rise ahead, the wind has frozen my face, but it’s nothing compared to the cold sinking deeper in my chest with every mile.
She’s not at Ivystone.
She’s not anywhere she should be.
The moment we pass through the gates, soldiers straighten, some bowing in surprise, others stepping aside as I swing down from the saddle. I don’t waste time with pleasantries.
“Where’s General Kormak?” I demand.
One of the guards nods toward the far end of the training yard, where Kormak stands with his arms folded, watching two of Celeste’s squad members trade blows in the sparring ring.
Mylo is there too, leaning against the railing with his usual quiet watchfulness, while Aila, Isaac, Giorgi, and Lorne linger nearby, their attention shifting as soon as they hear my tone.
Kormak’s posture changes the second he sees my expression. He steps forward, boots crunching over the packed dirt, and the rest of the squad falls in behind him like a shadow.
“Prince Dante.” His voice is even, but his eyes narrow. “What brings you here?”
“It’s Celeste,” I say, closing the distance. “She’s gone.”
The air around us seems to tighten. Mylo straightens, his jaw hardening.
“‘Gone’?” Kormak asks.
“Her horse is still in the stables,” I tell them, sweeping my gaze over each of their faces. “You know she would never leave Thora behind. She would never leave without telling me. Without informing any of you. This isn’t her.”
Kormak studies me, weighing the words. “Are you certain she didn’t head out on some errand?”
I shake my head. “She wouldn’t without letting someone know. And not for so long. We’ve just become—” I stop for half a second, making sure my next words land. “She’s my betrothed. And I am honored beyond measure that she’s to be my queen. But none of that will happen if she’s dead.”
Kormak’s jaw tightens, the briefest crack in his composure. Concern, yes, but edged with something sharper.
“I think the tsar has her,” I continue. “Even if it was Torbin who took her, he’d have taken her straight to the Shadow Tsar.”
The name alone makes Kormak flinch, his gaze darkening as if shadows from another place have reached for him.
Isaac exchanges a look with Giorgi and mutters a curse under his breath.
Aila crosses her arms, her expression tight. “Last time you came to us with something that sounded far-fetched, you turned out to be right. About Torbin. About the pit.”
Mylo nods once, decisive. “If you say she’s in danger, then we believe you. What do you need from us?”
“As many soldiers as the general can spare,” I say without hesitation. “You. All of you. I want the entire squad. And anyone else willing to ride to Dulcamar with me. If you’re willing.”
Kormak’s jaw flexes.
“You’re fucking right, we’re willing,” Isaac says. “There is no Delasurvia without Celeste. It’s our duty to rescue our queen.”
“But there’s more,” I add, my voice hardening. “King Silas believes Celeste has broken our agreement. He told me that if she leaves Hedera, he will take Delasurvia by force. Which means if I’m right, and she’s been abducted, he’ll use her absence as an excuse to invade.”
The squad exchanges grim looks. Mylo’s jaw tightens, and Aila’s brows draw together in a deep frown.
“You told him she might have been taken?” Mylo asks.
“I did,” I say, bitter heat rising in my chest. “He won’t hear it. He’s convinced she acted against him, and nothing I say will change his mind.”
Aila shakes her head sharply. “So we’re fighting on two fronts—rescuing her and holding the king back from seizing her kingdom.”
“Exactly.” My gaze sweeps across them. “If we march into Dulcamar, the soldiers who stay behind will need to be ready to defend the castle, the Garrison—everything. Silas will see an opportunity and take it.”
Lorne’s voice is low but steady. “Then we make sure he doesn’t get the chance.”
Kormak nods once, the steel in his eyes matching my own. “I’ll ready the soldiers. Some will march with us into Dulcamar. The rest will remain here to defend the capital if the king makes his move.”
“I’ll get the supplies,” Giorgi shouts before scrambling off.
Kormak steps closer, his voice lowering so it’s for me alone. “Are you sure about this?”
I meet his gaze without hesitation. “I heard her,” I say, the words rough in my throat.
It’s faint—always faint—as though she were calling my name from the far end of a long, dark hall.
Sometimes I almost think I’ve imagined it, that I’m chasing shadows in my own head.
But it’s there. And I can feel her. It’s weak but so real.
That tug. That thread that winds through my chest and pulls, ever so slightly, toward her.
Her voice is never clear. Never steady. Not like it was during the trials. And it kills me because if it’s unclear, that means she’s far. Farther than I can reach.
But distance doesn’t matter. I would follow that pull to the ends of Terre Ferique, to the edge of the world, if it meant finding her. I’d ride until my body broke, search until my last breath, if that’s what it takes to see her safe again.
“She’s calling to me,” I tell him. “She’s in danger.”
Something shifts in his expression—part recognition, part something darker. He studies me for a long moment before speaking.
“I know what it’s like to be taken,” he says quietly. “I know what waits on the other side of that darkness.” His jaw hardens, his voice like tempered steel. “And I won’t let what happened to me happen to her.”
I nod and clap him on the back.
Relief cuts through me, but it’s edged in fire.
Dulcamar has her. And we’re going to tear the place apart until she’s free.