“It wasn’t a lie.” His fierce stare bore into hers, yet beneath it shimmered something raw. “It was real. I meant every word, every promise, every kiss?—”
She shook her head, hating the way his words pulled at her, how a part of her wanted to believe him even now.
“—every night I spent in your bed?—”
“Shut up!”
She lunged forward, her blade aimed at his heart. At once, golden light exploded around him, his shimmering armour materialising just in time to stop the blow. Theclangof steel against magic rang out, the reverberation jarring her arm, and her blade skidded uselessly off the glowing cuirass.
Dorias’ eyes widened, genuine shock flickering across his face. He hadn’t expected her to strike.
“Fuck you,” she hissed, the venom in her words lashing out where her sword had failed.
For a heartbeat, Dorias stared at her. Then his expression hardened—like a door slamming shut. “I see you won’t listen to me. As usual,” he said, his tone edged with frost. “So we’ll have to do this the hard way.”
Katell scoffed, her lips curling. “You think Laran’s Flame or your golden breastplate are enough to stop me?”
Dorias’ focus cut past her, towards the gathered Freefolk, and her blood turned to ice.
“Arnza,” he called out.
Katell spun, pulse thundering in her ears. She locked eyes with Arnza still standing by Pinaria’s side.
The young soldier’s throat bobbed, and a shadow darkened his features.
Then he moved. With a single, brutal motion, his fist shot out and slammed into Pinaria’s face. The younger woman crumpled with a sharp gasp, her shimmering protective barrier wavering once before its silvery light dissolved into nothing.
Katell’s heart slammed into her ribs. “No!”
A wave of panicked wails erupted from the huddled Freefolk as the soldiers surged closer. Arnza cradled Pinaria’s unconscious form in his arms, his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight. “I’m sorry, Kat.” His head hung low. “I didn’t have a choice. It was the only way to save Pinaria’s life?—”
“Silence!” Dorias snapped.
Katell turned to him, despair clawing at her chest. “Why are you doing this?”
Dorias’ expression was a stony mask, his steel gaze unyielding. “I already told you. The Empire’s plans stop for no one.”
“What plans? What the fuck do you want from me?”
“You’re Laran’s Chosen,” he answered in a maddeningly calm tone. “And the Emperor is keen to meet you.”
The Emperor? Katell’s rage lit in her stomach as the truth came to light. Dorias’ loyalty had never been with her, the Sixth, or the Black Helmets.
It had always belonged to Tarquinius.
And, like a fool, she’d walked right into their trap, blinded by trust. She’d justified each step further in the legions because she’d believed in Dorias’ vision. But all the while, he’d beenusing her as a pawn in a game she hadn’t even realised she was playing.
Out of nowhere, voices hissed in the back of her mind—a deafening roar that drowned out everything else.Kill him. Make him pay.
The storm inside her boiled over, consuming every shred of doubt, pain, and hesitation in its flames. Her magic erupted, wild and formless, like molten steel spilling from a shattered crucible and searing through every vein.
The ground beneath her feet trembled, black smoke rising from the sand in dense, writhing tendrils. They coiled around her limbs and streamed upwards in dark plumes, thick with a gravity that seemed to pull the light from the world around her.
Tarxi froze, his usual smug expression replaced by stark terror. Romilda edged away, her earlier bravado wavering under the weight of the unnatural force gathering around them.
Even Dorias faltered. He took a deliberate step back, doubt tightening the corners of his mouth.
The air crackled, taut with oppressive magic that hummed. The black smoke fanned outwards in a wide arc. Veins of darkness spidered across the sand, and nearby soldiers staggered back, their faces drawn tight with primal terror.
