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The archer lets loose his shot. The invader draws his sword in a lightning-fast arc and deflects the missile.
I gawp at the huge man. How was that even possible?
He strides toward us, sword drawn, murder glittering in his red eyes. While the archer stares in shock at the invader, something comes swooping out of the sky, talons first. I see a flash of snow-white scales. The white dragon snatches the man up in its claws, banks hard, and flings the archer far away into the darkness on a fading scream.
“Get back,” the invader snarls at the Brethren Guard. “Move those horses.”
The soldiers scramble to obey him as if he’s their commanding officer and not the enemy, snatching at bridles and hurrying to the farthest reaches of the flaming circle.
Revealing me.
Sitting in a heap in the dust with my hands tied in front of me.
The invader stops dead and stares at me, recognition and outrage blooming on his face. His expression is like he’s been searching desperately for someone. Someone beloved.
Only to find them hurt and suffering.
I know it’s him. I know it even though I’ve never seen his face. This is the invader who landed his dragon on the dead king’s funeral pyre and carried me away on dragonback. It’s not only that his dragon seems to be the same dragon or that I can see this man has long, silky hair, or that the inside of his cloak flashes crimson in the wind. I justfeelit’s him. I felt he was near even before I saw the dragons in the sky.
The invader sheathes his sword, walks over to me in three long strides, and goes down on one knee. I lift my chin high to gaze up at him.
He’s huge. Bigger than any man I’ve ever seen before. I already knew that from the way he held me against him, but now that he’s looming over me, I feel like a piece of dust before a mountain.
The firelight moves across his face, and I feel a jolt of recognition. Ihaveseen his face before, or someone very like him. That jawline. That long, straight nose. His fierce brow. The way his long hair frames his handsome face. He’s the stranger from my vision in Biddy Hawthorne’s cottage.
Only he’s…different. This man’s hair is jet black, not brown, and rather than them being blue gray, the man kneeling before me has burning red eyes.
Demon.
That’s what the Brethren called him, and he looks every inch like he just walked out of hell.
He draws a knife and brandishes it in his fist. I shrink away in fear—until he gently takes hold of my wrists in his gauntleted hands and cuts through the ropes.
“I came as fast as I could,sha’len,” he says in a low, angry voice. “No one shall tie you up ever again.”
Behind him, several of the Brethren Guard have noticed that he’s sheathed his sword and are drawing their own. A soldier charges toward him, sword raised.
I gasp a warning before I remember that I’m not on the invader’s side. I’m not on anyone’s side but my own, but the words still break from my lips. “Be care—”
The invader stands up and draws his sword, parrying the guard’s weapon with a roar. It’s such a violent deflection that the guard is thrown off his feet and skids across the ground on his back. With his teeth bared, the invader takes his sword’s hilt in both hands and thrusts the blade through the man’s armor and rib cage. I flinch at the sound of crunching bones and metal and the man’s last gurgling breath. Bracing the dead soldier’s body with his foot, the invader yanks out his sword with a spray of blood.
The black dragon lunges forward, grasps the dead man with his teeth, and flings him out of the flaming circle.
The invader turns slowly on the spot, his sword held at his side with the dripping point directed at the ground, inviting anyone else to attack him if they dare.
No one moves.
Satisfied, the invader sheathes his weapon and turns back to me, kneeling once more.
With the black dragon peering over his shoulder at me with the same burning red eyes, I feel like I’m being looked at by the same demon twice. Their red gazes fasten on my bruised mouth, and they narrow and grow searing hot.
“They hit you? Theyhurtyou?” the invader seethes. “Which of these men did this to you?”
“I…” I open my mouth, but I can only shake my head helplessly. I stopped paying attention a long time ago to which of the Brethren and their guards beat me. So many of them hit me and the other Veiled Virgins over the past year that I couldn’t point out one man over another. “I don’t know.”
The invader gets to his feet and shouts, “Hel mai.”
Half a dozen invaders wearing armor step through the wall of flames and into the circle, as easily as if they are walking through an open doorway. Most are men, and though none are so tall and broad as the invader in the red-lined cloak, they’re far bigger than the Brethren Guard. There are some women as well. I’ve never seen a woman dressed in armor and carrying weapons, but they look as dangerous and fierce as the men.
