Wren’s grip has been steadily tightening around my fingers, and now they feel a moment away from going numb. Her face has lost all color save for her Mark. It’s a sapphire, glowing more brightly with each passing moment. Her violet eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and the raven is a stark contrast to her pale features.
“This is my fault,” she says softly, the words so quiet I’m not sure she meant to say them out loud.
“No.”
She looks up at me, silver lining her eyes. “Yes, it is. Just like the attack under the mountain, I caused this.”
My heart cracks. “It’s not?—”
“All good things come to an end, Gabe. I’ve witnessed too many dark things to think otherwise. This is my fault, and I can’t... I can’t do this. I can’t stay here and wait to be told what to do, wait for someone else to fight for me.” Wren draws in a deep breath and blinks away her tears. “I won’t. I’m going to fight, and you can either stay here and listen to Alaric or come with me.”
She stares up at me, as if there’s even a question about what I’ll do.
“Let’s go,” I say.
I will never hold her back, never tell her she can’t do something. If she wants to fight, that is what we will do. After all, this is what she’s been training for.
We’re heading to the breach, but first we stop at the schoolhouse. Wren seems to breathe more easily when she sees her sisters sitting against the wall next to Maia and Theon. Skyler is there as well, as are a few other guards, keeping watch. The air is thick, thrumming with the same tension reflected in my bond with Mist.
Theon stands when he sees us, striding towards us with his hand on his sword. When he learns we’re heading for the breach, he declares he’s coming along.
“Just like old times, eh, Gabe?” Theon asks, his eyes sparkling.
There’s little Theon enjoys more than getting his hands dirty. His father always hated that his son enjoyed training with the soldiers, calling it an act that was beneath him, which only made Theon do it more.
I brush my fingers over my own sword. “Something like that.” Except this time, I have a lot more to fight for.
Not long after we leave the schoolhouse, Mist joins our small party. She runs alongside us, silver eyes brimming with worry.
Our connection writhes in my chest, and I can feel her concern.
I nod, because what else can I do? The feeling of unease that has been plaguing me worsens as we race through the woods towards the sounds of battle.
The first thing I notice is the shift in the air. Every step is heavier as though we’re wading through mud.
The next thing that catches my attention is the sky—or rather, the fact that I can see it clearly without any obstacles. I’d grown so used to the constant shimmer that it feels like a trick to my senses. But it’s a brilliant, cloudless blue, the suns shining as brightly as Wren’s Mark.
And then my gaze lowers, and my blood chills. My steps slow, and every part of me screams that this is dangerous. I wonder if, perhaps, it isn’t too late to get Wren away from this. She would be upset by the sudden change of plans, but maybe that would be better.
Because this . . .
This isn’t just some attack, and the breach hasn’t been caused by a few stray Enforcers.
Fear skitters down my spine, chilling me to my bones. The raven caws, flying off Wren’s shoulder into the sky, but I don’t follow where it goes.
“Stay by my side, Birdie,” I tell Wren, but I don’t look at her. I can’t. My eyes are glued to the broken net up ahead... and on the scene unfolding behind it.
Soldiers line the other side of the barrier, spread as far as my eyes can see. Even though the rebels are fighting them, trying to keep them away from the breach, they are vastly outnumbered.
But that’s not the worst of it.
Not by far.
Because standing behind the soldiers, dressed ready for battle, is the crown prince. And on his right, looking every bit as imposing as ever, stands our father.
The king.
49
