I shoved free and led with my sword.
Another dropped into the circle, filed teeth bared.
Greaves hissed. His forearm caught the prince’s wall as he lunged, smoke curling from leather.
“Ronan! Stop the fire!” My voice cracked across the chaos. That blaze hindered more than helped. The Velli slipped through it with unnatural speed, while we risked burning alive.
The blue inferno winked out, and their bulky comrade joined us with a roar, swinging a heavy blade that whistled through air. Greaves struck in tandem with me. One enemy fell beneath his cut, body collapsing in a boneless heap.
“No!” Nienna’s scream tore through the clash.
The hulking man staggered. A Velli’s strike slid between ribs. He crashed to the ground, breath leaving him in a wet rush.
Lifeless.
Rage transformed her cry into something feral. She hurled herself at the monster.
“Ronan!” I surged harder, sword flashing in brutal arcs alongside Greaves. Speed meant little without skill. The Velli lunged. I pivoted. My blade carved clean. Teeth snapped inchesfrom my face before the head slid free and struck stone with a hollow knock.
Blood sprayed in a warm arc across my cheek.
I spun toward Nienna.
Her opponent already lay still.
She stood over it, white knuckles wrapped around Greaves’ dagger, hand drenched red to the wrist. Ronan wrenched his sword from a Velli chest with a sickening pull.
“Back. Now.” I seized her arm.
“No! Hur!” She struggled against my hold, straining toward the fallen man.
“He’s dead.” The words tasted like ash. I dragged her to the hall from which they had come. Leaving him felt wrong, but staying would be fatal. We had not yet carved a path to the Heart of Sol. We still fought along its shell.
Inside the nearest home, I released her. Ronan slipped in after us, face drained of color, pupils blown wide. Greaves shut the door and slammed three iron bars into place. Metal thudded into brackets.
Silence settled, thin and fragile.
Nienna stumbled backward until stone met her spine. Her blood-slicked hand pressed to her chest. Then she slid to the floor.
I dropped beside her and searched for wounds. Any tear in fabric. Any seep of red that belonged to her. I gripped her shoulders and turned her, scanning her back, her sides. My gauntleted fingers cupped her chin and lifted her face to mine.
“Are you hurt?” Anger, fear, and exhaustion scraped my throat raw.
“It’s not my blood.” Tears tracked down her cheeks. Her gaze fixed somewhere far beyond me, unfocused.
My jaw hardened, not trusting her words. She was in shock. I watched men insist they were fine while life poured betweentheir fingers because they couldn’t sense their pain. My hand skimmed down her arms, her ribs, her waist, searching for warmth that should not be there.
Whole.
I rose slowly. “What were you thinking?” Each word cut as I advanced on her brother. “She was to remain on the fields. Then in the manor. You took her to the skies and brought her here. Do you wish her dead?”
“No one tells a Draconis what they can and cannot do,” Ronan spat. Red mottled his pale skin. Fear sharpened his breathing. He was nervous, even scared, perhaps. But that wasn’t good enough.
“I do!” My fist tangled in the collar of his leathers and hauled him close.
His dagger flashed up. The blade scraped uselessly along my armor and stilled in his grip.
“I am King of Radaan.” My voice dropped, cold as the stone beneath our boots. “I have faced these monsters before. Here, you obey me. You do as I say, not as you wish. Your sister’s life depends on it. Do you understand what they would do if they captured her? If they turned her against us?” I shook him once. His head snapped forward. “We would fall. You would walk into their hands like a child chasing a toy. She is the key, and you led her into a labyrinth they built.”
