Page 111 of The Reaping Rose

“That you might actually know what you’re doing.” The tiniest smirk lights her eyes, and it’s breathtaking.

I chuckle. “Yeah, well, there’s a reason Wilder chose me to be here. Why my father had me leading his army. I’m perfectly capable.”

“Let’s hope you prove them right, then.”

A challenge sparks in her gaze. It sticks my feet in place until she turns away from me at the sound of wood snapping.

The sound is too close, so we stop talking, aiming in the direction we need to move. For some godsforsaken reason, Greer trusts me to guide her because she follows. She’s a warrior herself, and before she came to Quietus, she was one of Malachi’s three generals. There’s no doubt in my mind she could handle herself out here. Especially considering Echme was her home. For whatever reason, she lets me lead today, trusting my magic as I stretch it out to protect us.

First in careful spurts. Then, bolder gusts.

Fire thins with the wind, allowing me to read the scene. I’m careful to send it in waves so they don’t sense us coming. We finally get a glimpse through the trees, and there’s no mistaking the symbols on the tents.

“At least ten members of the Crown Guard,” I whisper.

She smirks. “Scared?”

“Only of you, Greer Maliren.”

She rolls her eyes, keeping her focus on the tents ahead. “I don’t think Malachi is in any of them. The orb emitted a certain energy in the Ley Court. I don’t sense it here.”

“Then let’s hope there’s a clue as to where he is.”

She nods, and I shift behind a tree as a guard circles the fence line. Greer does the same, pressing her back to the bark. She closes her eyes, but her entire body is on alert as she holds her sword in front of her. Listening for every crack of the guard’s footsteps.

When her eyes fly open, they’re warmer. A spit of hot flame dances in her gaze. Heat swells in the air between us, and I get my first taste of Greer in battle—a mesmerizing sight.

Somewhere deep in my belly, Greer reaches down and pulls, harnessing my magic and shining a light on it. She sees within me and stokes the blaze until I’m burning.

Her stare meets mine, and flames crawl beneath my skin. They wrap my fingers, twining around the hilt of my sword. Her magic dances with mine, a small smile playing in the corner of her perfect lips. She’s godsdamn stunning. The most intoxicating being in existence. And when she attacks, the fire in my belly surges.

Greer moves like lightning strikes—quick and merciless. A flash of light in an endlessly dark sky, only heard long after she’s done her damage. She slips from between the trees and has the first guard on his back in one sweep of her leg. Her sword at his throat.

“Don’t yell, or you’ll lose your tongue.” She presses the tip of the blade to his neck. “Where is Malachi?”

“The king—he’s not—” the male stutters, his honey-brown eyes darting around like he’s waiting for someone to come rescue him. “He’s not here.”

Greer squats down, holding her blade firm. When the male tries to wiggle, I send a hot rope of flame around his wrists and ankles, stopping him. His flesh crackles, but I sear the pain from his thoughts so he doesn’t scream and give away our location.

“Where is he?” Greer asks again.

Desperation bleeds through her tone. Offering a hint of just how important this mission might be to her. And not because Elorie asked her to be here or because we need to find Malachi to use the void against the orb. Greer needs to be here for a different reason.

Blood trickles down the male’s neck where her sword presses firm.

“I don’t know. We don’t get told when he moves.” The male squirms, and I release my hold slightly to not sear through bone.

“But he’s in Echme?”

“There’s magic here.” The male panics. “Stronger than anywhere else.”

That much, we know already. It hums in the breeze, radiates from the ground. The lightning fields are still strong. Echme will be the last to fall when the Well drinks down both realms.

“He needs it. He needs the magic. But I don’t know where he is.” The guard chokes out a cough as Greer pulls back her blade.

Her fingers don’t loosen on the handle, but they’re shaking when she holds her sword at her side.

Greer stands, not looking up at me. “We need to get a look around.”