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a roar, he fell backward into the abyss.
Just as Cleo’s hand slipped, Magnus grabbed her wrist and hauled her up and over the side, crushing her against his chest as he pushed them backward and away from the damage.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded.
All she could do was shake her head.
The guards drew closer, but Magnus was on his feet, tugging Cleo up with him. He’d grabbed his father’s fallen sword and now brandished it at them. “Stay back. I swear, I will kill each of you if you come any closer.”
Enzo’s brow was deeply furrowed, his expression confused and grim.
“We need to go after the king,” Enzo said. “It’s possible he survived the fall.”
“I agree.” Magnus nodded. “Just keep your distance from us.”
“As you wish, your highness.”
It took some time and care, but Cleo and Magnus made it down to the bottom of the cliff and the surface of the frozen lake where the king lay, his head resting in a shallow pool of blood that had already started to freeze.
Cleo picked up the black orb, which was clearly visible as it nestled within its stark white surroundings. Even though it had come to rest on a bed of ice and snow, it was hot to the touch, and the wisp of shadowy magic inside spun around and around furiously.
She slipped it into her pocket and looked down at the face of the King of Blood.
Magnus just stood there over his father, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“He damn well better be dead,” he said. Despite the fierceness of his words, Cleo could hear a catch, a hoarseness to them.
“I’ll check,” she said, and sank down to her knees next to the king. She pressed her fingers to the side of his throat.
His hand shot up and grabbed her wrist, his eyes flying open.
She shrieked and tried to pull away, but his hold was too strong. Magnus had his sword to the king’s throat in an instant.
“Release her,” he snarled.
But the king paid him no attention. He only looked at Cleo, his brow drawn, pain in his dark brown eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Elena. I never wanted to hurt you. Forgive me, please forgive me for all of this.”
His eyes rolled back into his head and his hand dropped away.
Cleo was trembling now and she scooted back, away from the king’s body.
Magnus now checked the king’s pulse, and then swore under his breath. “He’s still alive. I swear, he must have made a pact with a demon from the darklands to survive a fall like that.” When Cleo didn’t reply, he looked up at her. “What was that he said to you? Did he call you Elena? Who’s Elena?”
She was certain she must have heard him wrong, but when Magnus repeated the name now, she knew she hadn’t.
“Elena,” she said, her throat raw. “Elena was my mother’s name.”
Magnus frowned. “Your mother?”
Enzo drew closer, but his weapon was not drawn. “Your highness, what do you want us to do?”
Magnus hesitated, uncertain. “You don’t mean to arrest us?”
“You’re the crown prince. Your father is badly injured, possibly near death. It’s your command we must obey now.”
“What about Amara’s command?”
