1
NO STRANGER TO DEATH
GABRIEL
“Little bird,” I breathe hoarsely, the words the only ones I can force past my lips. My sword is heavy in my grip, and I’m standing in the stone tunnels beneath Rose Palace, staring in equal parts disbelief and awe at the scene that has unfolded around me.
When I chased the king through the dark passageways running beneath his home, this was the last thing I expected to find.
Burning suns, Wren Nightingale, the gods-blessed with the glowing blue Mark that I was hunting across the kingdom, the one who I’ve been drawn to since the day we met, hasmagic.
It shouldn’t be possible. Everyone knows the royals are the only ones with magic.True, full-blooded royals like my father, Andreas; his wife, Lucille; and my half brother, Severus. All three of them have power, a gift from the gods. A reminder of how things used to be. Up until a few minutes ago, I thought they were the only ones.
Another lie.
My gut churns, but I cannot deny the proof in front of me. Wren’s power is in the flames she wielded, the shield keepingher from me, and even in the dead bodies all around us. The soldiers she killed to protect the honored guests.
If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I never would’ve believed it.
Earlier, I’d raced through the corridors below Rose Palace, chasing my father and wondering if I was too late. After careening around the corner, I’d found Wren along with another Given—the man who escaped from Mora—and the pair of twins currently hiding behind her. They’d been cornered by the man I despise most in this world—my father, King Andreas Bloodthorn.
Ruler of the Kingdom of Myreth, blessed by the gods, and wearer of the Ruby Crown.
Anger had roared to life inside me when I saw the man I hate most in this world and his soldiers threatening Wren. Mist, my familiar, had panicked at the intense emotions coming through our bond, but I hadn’t had time to explain what was happening. Hadn’t had time to tell her why possessiveness unlike anything I’d ever felt was rearing its head within me or why I was so angry thatmyprey was about to be killed.
Because that’s all Wren was supposed to be. Prey.
Nothing more.
Horror had pooled in my chest and fear had dug in its cold claws into my heart when the king aimed a death blow at Wren. But the blow never met its target—Wren’s friend had thrown himself in front of the deadly magic.
He’d sacrificed himself for her.
There had been no time for relief. My father’s rage had been palpable, and the terror on Wren’s face had sent chills skittering down my spine.
Then a soldier stepped towards the twins. That had been the catalyst, the moment everything changed. Blue flames had exploded from Wren’s hand, killing the soldiers in a fiery blastwhile a shimmering barrier of the same color protected Wren and the girls.
And the king . . .
Burning suns save me. His eyes had filled with crimson rage, and fury had poured off him in waves when he realized he couldn’t break through Wren’s shield.
For all the monarch’s madness and strength and seemingly endless supply of magic, he hadn’t been able to do it. It might have been the first time he ever failed at anything.
Like the fucking coward I’d always known the king to be, he gave up when he realized he couldn’t defeat Wren. Abandoning the fight, he had vanished into the night, leaving us here in the cold, dark tunnels that stretch beneath the city.
Now Wren, the twins, and I are alone.
I can barely look at the honored guests. My heart slams against my chest, making a valiant effort to break through the confines of my ribs, but it’s nothing compared to the pull deep inside me. The draw has been present ever since I first met Wren, but it’s louder now. More insistent. Urgent and impossible to ignore.
Wren is standing a few feet away from me, a statue save for her heaving breaths. Sky-colored flames wreathe her hands. She hasn’t said anything, hasn’t moved since the king vanished.
“Wren.” Her name is a prayer and a plea as it leaves my lips.
Those violet eyes widen. Esyn help me, but although we’re surrounded by death and danger, I’m drawn to her. Her eyes are as captivating as the day we met, even though everything else has changed since then. The logic-defying fire licking the stones between us is proof enough of that.
The flames stand a foot high, releasing blue sparks into the air. They lead to the translucent wall blocking me from Wren and the two other girls—the honored guests.
“Hunter.” Her Mark glows as bright as a star, and her breath hitches. The shield wavers before solidifying.
