Page 154 of The Crown's Shadow


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Graeson pushedpast the people in the crowd, shrugging them as they shoved him. His sight was locked onto the woman laying unconscious on the floor.

Terin had since joined the fight, assisting Armen and Moris as they fought off the Frenzians. The three men fought in front of Kalisandre, providing a protective circle around her. But Graeson didn’t know if it would be enough to stop the rush of guards.

This is your fault,the god spat.She would not be in danger if you didn’t hand her to him.

Graeson gritted his teeth. Part of him believed the god. He had vowed the night of the fire that he would never leave Kalisandre again. But he had already made his choice, and he couldn’t go back on it now.

With each step, Graeson’s heart beat faster in his chest. He battled through the sea of people rushing toward the main door, past the flames. Over the crowd, Graeson could see Armen continue to strike down the Frenzian guards, but the enemy’s reinforcements were coming too fast.

Shouts echoed off the walls.

He thought there was the faint sound of wood cracking as guards continued to pound against the door. It was faintly there, in the back of his mind, but Graeson was only vaguely aware of everything happening around him.

Then a trio of Frenzian soldiers intercepted Graeson, forcing him to a stop. Graeson didn’t give them a chance to raise their blades.

One quick slice. One quick flick of his sword was all it took for one soldier to fall and for Graeson to jump over his shaking body and strike down the other two.

As Sebastian crept up on Graeson’s heels, shouting at anyone who would listen to stop him, Graeson unleashed his wrath. The god’s rage slipped out, and Graeson’s blade met the hearts of anyone who stepped in his way.

He told Kalisandre once that he would not be merciful if someone tried to take her away from him again. He had not been exaggerating. But despite the number of soldiers he knocked out along the way, more followed.

His rage fueled him, empowered him. With their goals aligned, Graeson welcomed the god’s assistance as a trail of bodies followed in his wake. Red seeped into the edges of his vision, but Graeson did not fear the god’s anger. He embraced it.

Graeson broke through the crowd. With a breath, he lined up his targets. When he exhaled, two daggers flew through the air. He didn’t wait for his targets to crumble to the ground as he knew they would. Finding his next victim, he thrust his sword through the man’s back. Blood spurted from the man’s mouth, and his body fell to the ground alongside his comrades.

Pulling his sword free from the Frenzian’s body, Graeson grabbed the man’s weapon. He flipped the blades in his hands. They weren’t his scimitars, but they would do.

Graeson drove a sword through the next Frenzian with a grunt, the god’s rage propelling his blade forward. It was as if Graeson and the god had reached a symbiosis. When he swiped the blade through the air and fought to reach Kalisandre, his body worked in tandem with his mind. There was no fighting, no snide remarks from the god, nothing but pure euphoria.

When Graeson finally joined the others on the dais, Graeson could have sworn he saw relief flicker in Armen’s gaze. But the glimmer of relief vanished as Sebastian pounced.

“Go help Terin!” Graeson spat and didn’t bother waiting to see if Armen, who had moved closer, listened. He spun and kicked Sebastian in the chest, forcing him back.

“Gray, you need to go! Get her and the prince out of here!” Moris shouted over the chaos, his words clipped.

Sebastian swung his sword, cutting off Graeson’s response. The hunger for blood was a storm in Sebastian’s demonic stare as he sliced the air with his blade. Graeson dodged the attack.

Then as a Frenzian aimed for Armen’s head, Graeson pulled Armen back and drove his blade through the Frenzian’s ribcage.

“Are you crazy?” Graeson hissed as he blocked Sebastian’s next strike. Someone’s blade clashed against his armor.

“No—yes,” Moris said with a groan on the other side of Terin. “It doesn’t matter!Theyare what matter right now. Armen and I can hold them off.”

Sebastian delivered a low blow, forcing Graeson to jump. All around him, metal clanged metal as the four of them fought off the Frenzians.

He stumbled against Armen, and Armen leaned his back against Graeson, throwing his stance off. He shoved Armen back with a growl and braced his sword against Sebastian’s.

When Graeson found an opening and thrust his sword forward, a soldier dove, pushing Sebastian out of the way. Graeson’s blade bounced off the soldier’s armor. Growling, Graeson snatched the Frenzian by the collar, yanking him back to his chest. With one movement, Graeson sliced hisblade across his neck.

“Graeson!” A shout from above cut through the noise.

Dropping the soldier’s body, Graeson spared a look up, and Sylvia waved frantically at him through the broken glass, then pointed. Graeson followed their direction as he struck another soldier down. The fire had spread, and it now crawled up the walls.

They were running out of time.

Sebastian stared wide-eyed, his gaze bouncing between the dead bodies on the ground and the fire spreading.

Then, a crash sounded, and the iron door fell. A cloud of heavy black smoke billowed into the temple as the familiar stench of the Frenzians’ foreign weapon filled the air. Momentarily paralyzed, the Frenzians and the Pontians watched as the crowd stormed through the new opening, pushing past each other, climbing over each other. It didn’t matter if it was a woman, an elder, or a child—the people were ravaged, knocking down whoever lay in their path of survival. The sea of bodies only forced the opening closed again, blocking it.

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