But Rakhal’s mind tightened with caution.I don’t know what waits out there on the plains… the entire Varak clan has turnedagainst us now. And the humans before us aren’t friendly either.
He lifted his arm and signed the signals they had exchanged countless times in battle:Go after them, but only if it is safe. If you lose them… do not return to the stronghold. Make safe. Wait for me.
He fell.
The shadows wrapped around him, cradling his body as he hit the earth. Spent. Drained.
Shazi and her troops did as commanded—they vanished into the night, safe, away from the Maidan.
But he remained. Wounded. Vulnerable. His plan unravelled by Kardoc’s treachery and recklessness. His power frayed, hanging by the thinnest of threads.
And the shadows here… they were different. Tempting. Ancient. Dangerous.
They wanted him. He could feel their hunger coil through the marrow of his bones. They had longed for one such as him, a vessel for their old rage. He hadn’t realized until now just how steeped in lore and blood this city truly was.
This human city—once an orc stronghold. Long ago, before the humans came, before his clan lost what had been theirs.
Their land.
But now it belonged to humans. And his fate—his very life—was at the mercy of their queen.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
The clang of steel and the shouts of soldiers still echoed around the gates when Captain Sorell approached her, helm tucked under one arm. His eyes were wide with disbelief, his face pale.
“My queen,” he said quickly, bowing his head, “we must get you back to the castle at once. It isn’t safe here?—”
“No.” Her voice cut like a whip. “Take me up to the parapet. I will watch.”
Sorell’s head snapped up, shock flashing across his features. “But—Your Majesty, forgive me, that is impossible. You cannot?—”
She stepped toward him, closing the distance, her gaze unyielding. “I have ridden the plains while you hid behind these walls, Captain. If you dare to question me again, I will remove you from your post and appoint someone with a spine.”
A murmur rippled among the guards. One by one, they lowered their heads in assent. Sorell’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing more.
“Good,” she said sharply. “Now take me up.”
They led her toward the tower, and she climbed the winding stairs swiftly, her skirts clutched in one hand, her heart athunder in her chest. Dread curled in her stomach, every step bringing her closer to what she both feared and longed to see.
Rakhal had told her he would fight. She had seen it in his eyes—the resoluteness, the unshakable certainty.
And despite everything that had happened, she believed him.
This mad shadow prince.
And now… gods help her… she desperately wanted him to win.
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
The parapet was crowded with soldiers. Crossbows lined the stone wall, bolts fitted and ready, the sharp tang of oil in the air as great vats were wheeled into place. Even the catapults had been armed, boulders black against the torchlight.
But Eliza suspected they would not need any of it. Not tonight.
These orcs would not storm the walls.
