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The king stormed toward her, shoving her out of the way, and looked down toward the frozen lake far below, before he turned on her with a look of rage. “You stupid little bitch!”

As soon as the Kindred hit the hard surface below, an earthquake began to shake the ground, just as it had in the throne room when Magnus had thrown it at the wall.

A crack formed in the ice where the orb had first hit and, as fast as lightning, it snaked up the side of the cliff. A deafening sound of cracking, breaking, and splintering roared up and out across the land, and the edge of ice that Cleo and the king stood on broke away.

Cleo scrambled to catch hold of the rough edge of an icy rock as the very ground she stood on fell away beneath her feet. The king, too, scrambled for a handhold, but he failed.

o;Is this really for her?” the king said with disdain. “You would oppose me like this, here and now, and throw away everything that could have been yours for the love of one girl?”

“No,” Magnus replied, his teeth gritted together with the effort it took to fight his father. “I oppose you like this because you’re a monster who needs to die. And when that monster is dead, I will fix the idiotic mistake you made by underestimating Amara, and reclaim Mytica as my own.” He jabbed his blade, slicing his father’s shoulder. “What happened to your experience? It seems to me that I’ve drawn first blood.”

“And I will draw last.” The king dodged the next strike with ease, clearly surprising Magnus. “Never show how strong you are from the very beginning. Save it for the end.”

Gaius jabbed and flicked his wrist, and Magnus’s sword flew out of his hand. Magnus stared at it, stunned, as it landed six paces away.

The king put the tip of his sword to the prince’s throat.

“On the ground.”

Magnus sent Cleo a pained look and sank to his knees before the king.

“I didn’t want to have to do this,” the king said, shaking his head. “But you’ve given me no choice. Perhaps you’re not like me after all. You’re too soft to do what needs to be done.”

“You’re wrong,” Magnus gritted out.

“I saw potential when no one else could. And yet, here we are. Serves me right, I suppose.”

Cleo was shaking her head, lost for words and feeling more hopeless than ever. “Please don’t do this . . . don’t kill him.”

“It must be done. I can never trust him. I could lock him in the tower for months, years, but not a day would pass without the knowledge that he would be plotting to kill me again. However, my son, I will do you the honor of making this quick.”

His arm tense, his expression without pity, the king raised his sword.

“King Gaius!” Cleo shouted. “Look over here!”

He froze, the sword stilled, but he didn’t drop it. The king sent a glance over his shoulder at Cleo, who stood at the edge of the cliff, holding the earth Kindred out at a dangerous angle.

The king blinked. The guards reached for their weapons, but Gaius motioned for them to stay where they were.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked evenly.

“I do,” he said past a tense, tight jaw.

“And do you know what happens if I drop it fifty feet onto a hard sheet of ice? It will shatter into a thousand pieces.”

She was bluffing of course—she’d seen what had happened when Magnus had hurled the orb against the throne room wall. But she prayed he would believe her.

“I know you want this,” she said. “I know you’re obsessed with the Kindred, but that you haven’t found a single one yet.”

Finally, the king lowered his sword. “That’s where you’re wrong, princess. I have the moonstone orb.”

Cleo tried to keep the shock from showing on her face.

“You’re lying,” she said.

“Wouldn’t that be convenient for you? Unfortunately, I’m not.” He nodded toward the closest guard, then to Magnus. “Watch him.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

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