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My scream drew Gunnar’s attention. The prince blanched. “No! Stop, you can’t—”
Gunnar grunted, words lost, when a wild fae thrust a knife into his side.
“Gunnar,” Eryka sobbed, watching him fall to his knees. A bulky backwoods fae with sharp teeth hooked the princess around the neck and pulled her away. “No, no, get up, Gunnar! Don’t you fall, don’t you dare fall! This isn’t what the stars said.” Her wails were desperate, she kicked and thrashed. “This isn’t what they said!”
Valen, along with Gunnar’s father, ran from the Nightrender’s pull. They were coming, blades raised for the prince.
Davorin laughed with his icy cruelty. The bastard knew where to strike, he knew how to make folk desperate. Harm to the ones they loved was the swiftest way to ensnare them. He would take Valen, then Elise. He’d stride through Kase’s shadow wall and feed on the fear and hate that lived in the Nightrender’s power.
He’d take them all.
Dark hair and a flash of steel caught my attention.
“Junie, Stieg!” I pointed desperately at Gunnar. “Help him!”
“No.” Gunnar clutched his side. “Not me. Get Eryka—”
She was already gone.
My heart sank to the pit of my belly. In the chaos, the fae had disappeared into the trees with the princess, but Gunnar Strom was losing too much blood.
Once Junius reached Gunnar, her hands pressed on his wound, I wheeled on Valen and the prince’s father. They needed to leave the isles, and if it meant they’d do it by being separated from the wounded prince, so be it.
Sound blotted out behind the blood pounding in my skull.Break it.
Valen Ferus was an earth bender, but in a way, so was I. On this land, I could ask it to do anything.
I cupped a handful of soil and sang a low tune, one that would divide two worlds. One that pleaded with the earth to take the good away, to protect it from cruelty. The same as when Valen stepped onto the isles, the ground shuddered.
Gods. If Ari stood beside me, we could sink Davorin into the hells if the isles agreed. With only half my energy, half my glamour, such a feat grew taxing too quickly.
I hummed my commands, praying my weakened power would be enough. I dropped to the soil and dug my fingernails deep into the clay.
Bend. Take them away, I pleaded in my head.
A violent shake snapped stone. Powerful bursts of air shot dust and gravel to the sky.
Wild fae, blood fae, even Davorin stumbled near the cracking soil. Gunnar’s father made a desperate leap across the spreading ravine. He shouted in agony when he caught the ridge, but his legs dangled over the side.
Cuyler was nearest. The blood heir gripped Hagen’s wrists and held tightly to him while Valen stumbled, trapped on the other side.
Davorin shouted his frustration. I didn’t let up. I closed my eyes, my body trembled in exhaustion.
A little more. A little longer.
The earth shifted. I cracked one eye. Ground where Valen stood sunk, as if breaking away from the shoreline. Isolated winds gathered on the broken shard of land. The force was enough to lower Valen to his knees and guard against forest debris. Near the shadows, Elise clung to a stump, but the force of the isles pushed her toward the Nightrender’s wall.
“Valen!” Her hair whipped around her face. She reached out a hand for her husband.
Desperation marred his handsome features. To run when his nephew, his warrior, and his ambassador were all left behind would, no doubt, be agonizing.
But there was always one who’d stand above anyone.
With Elise trapped in the torment, the Night Folk king hesitated for a few more heartbeats before taking her hand and falling into the swirl of shadows.
Darkness faded, and where the army of the Night Folk stood, now was nothing but blood and fallen blades. The gates of the Court of Blood flung open. Gorm’s warriors held no mercy with the wild fae. They cut them down; they pushed them back.
Davorin was no longer glib. He didn’t mock or taunt. His face pinched in hatred. He wanted to destroy me the same as I wanted to destroy him.
