Page 84 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

The seven riders who landed are all dressed in leather armor and wearing hoods, along with masks that cover the lower halves of their faces, concealing their identities.

They quickly dismount, only one of them pulling off his mask and striding toward us. He appears older than Stellen and has a broad forehead and a hooked nose.

Lord Boaz, no doubt.

His lips twist as he shouts, “Where is your escort?”

All of the women are silent, fixated on the ground, and I can’t help but notice how, when they stopped running, they ensured they were three deep on all sides of me, keeping me as far from these men as they can.

I remain as still as they do, hunching a little beneath the silks they wrapped around me, keeping my head down, carefully watching from beneath the edge of my scarf.

“Where is your escort?” Lord Boaz roars again, grabbing the nearest woman and shoving her to the ground.

She falls in a flurry of silks but doesn’t make a sound, staying where she fell, her face turned away from him.

My blood boils. It takes all of my determination to remain still. Eyes down.

Lord Boaz grabs another woman, this time wrapping his hand around her head, tearing off her scarf as he shoves her to the ground, where she lands, her face also turned away.

He raises his fist, a clump of her hair caught in his fingers.

Ouch. She didn’t make a sound. Not even a whimper.

“You will answer me.” He snarls. “Or I will have each of you beaten.”

Miriam’s hand finds mine. A warning squeeze.

But it isn’t enough.

I’m fighting every instinct in my body that screams at me to rip this man’s head from his shoulders and let his blood seep into the sand…

Breathe out.

A smile grows on Lord Boaz’s face as he carefully picks the Mother’s hair from his hand. “Perhaps I will strip you and beat you myself. Right here on the sand.”

He points at the woman standing to my farthest right before gesturing to one of his men. “Bring that one. Let’s see how long she defies me.”

As he speaks, he flicks his hand and a line of fire flows from his fist, a lash of flames forming. He whips the lash across the air before it vanishes. And then he makes another one. Belts of fire that will cut across her skin.

My right hand is suddenly burning, a heat feeding on my rage. A darkness, as solid as the channel we were running toward, creeping into my mind.

Oh, breathe out. Breathe out!

But my muscles are tensing and my armor is rippling against my skin and I won’t stand by while a woman is hurt.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Maxim

Fire rages across the air, smoke rising from smashed and burning canisters as my serpent darts around the rubble of an Iron Tower, spearing toward the next catapult.

Hadrian thought he could resume his assault on my people, but I’ve taken the fight to him, pushing his line of attack farther and farther back until we’re fighting in Iron Kingdom airspace.

My warriors have taken up formation on the ground, each covered in white frost so they can run through the smoke. The frost doesn’t last long, but it’s enough time for my men to take down Hadrian’s soldiers and steal their breathing apparatus.

Behind us, the Frost King moves fast, riding his wolf across the rocky ground, neutralizing the smoke.

A strange alliance between us.