We were surrounded.
The tallest man stepped forward, his voice cold and deliberate. “Calix Warrick?”
My pulse slowed.
They’re here for me. I gripped my sword.
“You’re far from Ederyn, friends.” I kept my gaze down. For anyone really looking for me, my eyes could be a giveaway.
Dalric’s lips curved, exchanging a look with me. “The royal prince? At your service,” he said with a mock bow.
The man lifted a crossbow and shot.
The bolt struck Dalric in the chest, the sickening thud echoing in the stillness.
“No!” Thorne and I shouted in unison.
Dalric wavered before his knees buckled, his sword slipping from his hand and clattering to the ground. I lunged forward, catching his shoulders just before he collapsed.
“Dalric.” His name came out as a whisper. Blood seeped through his shirt, staining the dark leather vest above it. His eyes, wide with shock, locked onto mine as horror seeped through my skin.
“Never … could keep my mouth shut.” He forced a weak smile, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
“Stay with me.” My voice cracked as I pressed against the wound, desperate to stem the bleeding. “Don’t—don’t talk. Save your strength.”
Behind us, Thorne’s sword rang against steel. I barely registered the clash of steel, my focus locked on Dalric.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “Should’ve … been more careful.”
“Don’t you dare apologize.” I choked on the lump rising in my throat. “You’re going to be fine. We’ll get you to the healers and?—”
Rough hands yanked him from my grasp. His body jerked as they dragged him toward the shadows of the forest.
“Get off of him!” Thorne roared, surging forward. His sword sang, a flash of steel cutting through the air.
I drew my own weapon, lunging at the nearest man. Pain blossomed at the back of my neck—a sharp, burning sting. My free hand shot up, ripping out the jagged quill of a common whistler. A Viori weapon, which contained a powerful sedative.
I fought against the disorienting pull as I slashed out with my sword, driving back the nearest attacker.
“Thorne!” My voice was hoarse, desperate.
Thorne turned, his amber eyes wild with rage as he struck down one of the men. But it wasn’t enough. More shadows emerged from the forest, closing in.
The world tilted.
Thorne fought on, his blade a blur. He cut down one attacker with a ferocious strike, his roar of fury shaking me to my core.
“They’re taking him!” I shouted, my voice slurred. My legs felt leaden.
Thorne didn’t answer. He was already moving, strength and fury etched into every arc of his sword. Another masked man fell beneath his blade.
One attacker slashed at Thorne’s arm, the blow glancing off his armor. He barely flinched, driving his sword through the man’s chest. “Cowards!” he spat, voice raw.
I stumbled forward, every step a battle against the fog clouding my mind. “Thorne … we can’t …”
He didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. “They’re not taking him!”
But they were. The forest engulfed Dalric’s captors, his blood leaving a cruel trail.
