He snatches a fallen sword from the blood-slick ground, then, with a roar that shakes the room, he charges.
The guard doesn’t stand a chance.
Orios’s blade whistles through the air, cleaving clean through flesh and bone. The head separates from the body, which stumbles once, twice, then collapses. The severed head rolls across the floor, eyes still wide in disbelief.
There’s no time to breathe, no time to revel in the kill.
With a growl, Orios and Reon turn on the remaining guards. Steel clashes. Flesh yields.
The bedchamber rings with the sounds of violence, and blood stains the floor beneath them, deep and dark and final.
And then, the sound of heavy footsteps reverberates through the hall, voices echoing in the distance. Reinforcements. More warriors. Marlayna’s forces are far from depleted.
“We can’t fight them all,” Reon mutters, eyes flashing toward Orios.
With a shared look, the two of them lunge for the doors, slamming them shut just as the reinforcements reach the threshold. They shove everything they can find against the doors—a dresser, a side table, a stack of velvet chairs—anything to delay the oncoming storm. The wood groans in protest, but the barricade holds… for now.
In the chaos, I lie in Zyphoro’s arms, my gaze fixed on the ceiling above, struggling to stay conscious. Her breath hisses through clenched teeth, the tension in her body palpable. She mutters curses under her breath, her fingers tightly laced over mine, pressing harder against the wound in my side, sending waves of pain through me. Meanwhile, Marlayna trembles in the corner, her eyes wide with fear, unable to summon the strength to move.
“We need to get out of here,” Reon says, his voice tense as the doors begin to bow under the pressure. “This won’t hold long.”
Orios lifts Solena onto her feet, his hands cradling her face with surprising tenderness before he presses soft kisses to her brow and chin, a stark contrast to the brutal scene unfolding around us.
“I’m fine, my love,” she murmurs, her small hands wrapped around his thick, vein-corded forearms as he looms above her.
“Get up, brother,” Zyphoro orders tersely. “We’ve overstayed our welcome.”
With Reon’s help, they haul me to my feet, but my legs feel like lead beneath me. I stumble, and they catch me again, Reon throwing my arm over his shoulder.
“Get your shit together,” he scowls. “I didn’t cross an ocean and get syphilis twice, just to have you die before we’ve even found your sweetie.”
Orios strides past us, heading to the window, his massive hands gripping the curtains and tearing them down. The sunlight floods the room, blinding and stinging like fire on my skin. Zyphoro steps back, and even through the pain, even in my weakness, I flinch when Reon goes to sweep me into his arms.
He frowns, sensing my hesitation at being scooped up like some helpless damsel.
“I get no pleasure from this either,” he drawls.
“What do we do with her?” Zyphoro asks, her gaze fixed bitterly on Marlayna.
I’m too weak to form the words, but Solena speaks up instead, her voice venomous and unforgiving. “Leave her. She is nothing. Her house is nothing.”
But Solena’s words fall on deaf ears.
In a blink, Zyphoro moves, a flash of smoke and steel, and her dagger finds its mark, plunging deep into Marlayna’s heart.
The Lady of Taramethos gasps, her lips parting soundlessly as disbelief freezes her features. For a heartbeat she stands trembling, eyes wide and glassy, before Zyphoro twiststhe blade. A sharp, shuddering breath escapes Marlayna’s throat. Then she slips from the steel’s edge and crumples to the floor.
Zyphoro wipes the blade on the leather of her trousers with casual indifference, as if the act were little more than an afterthought. “You feared punishment from a Mordorin prince. Perhaps it is the princess you should have concerned yourself with.” Her eyes meet mine, and I glimpse something dark behind them. “Vengeance served, brother.”
Despite my protests, Reon lifts me up with less effort than I’d hoped, and Orios, without a word, raises his boot and kicks the glass from the windowpane. The shattering sound echoes in the room as Reon steps onto the ledge, staring out across the sandstone rooftops of Ballamar. For a moment, he simply breathes in the air.
Then, with a single step, we plummet. The wind roars around us as we fall toward the bustling streets stories below. Gravity drags us down until, with a powerful beat of his copper wings, Reon catches the air. We soar upward, climbing higher into the sky, the wind rushing past us, sending dust and dirt swirling through the streets.
Zyphoro, Solena, and Orios follow close behind, the wind carrying us swiftly towardTheShattered Edge, its dark sails billowing where it lies anchored. Reon’s landing is anything but graceful, his footing falters under my weight, a grunt slipping from his lips, but he manages to stay upright.
“Bring him below deck,” Solena commands as she touches down in a seamless, fluid motion, wasting no time before storming toward the cabin door. She throws it open, and Reon obeys without question, hauling me down the narrow steps before laying me across the familiar smoothness of the table.
Zyphoro and Orios linger in the doorway, their forms blocking the light, but Solena turns on them before they can step inside.
