Page 70 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

Breighly’s brow pulled together, and her features twisted. Gideon knew the look. She was young when he last saw it lingering on her face. Breighly felt guilty. She blamed herself for her mother never returning. She blamed herself for being too much, even as a cub. It wasn’t true, but there was no way of getting through her armour. And she was blaming herself for something now.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You are not going to mess up,” he reassured her. “You were born to fight, to be in the position you are.”

Her teeth gnawed at her lip. “I am glad you think so, Giddy.” She smiled, and her hand came up to touch his.

Gideon couldn’t help the eyeroll if he tried. “What have I told you about calling me that?”

She bumped her hip into him. “What have I told you about telling me not to call you that? Not going to happen.”

He did his best not to chuckle, but it happened.

Giddy. He laughed to himself as he watched the dance floor, his eyes constantly trying to find the auburn banner that was gracefully whirling around.

“Do you like like her?” Breighly asked, leaning in closer.

Gideon’s gaze snapped to her face. “Who?”

The wolf tutted. “The earth witch you are keeping an eye on as she dances with that strapping Fae.”

He didn’t like the way Breighly said that. Was the Fae that attractive?

Unable to answer, he watched as Sybil spun underneath the Fae’s arm. As he caught her, his hands landed on her waist and he pulled her closer, bringing her into his chest. A spark ran between them as their gaze locked.

A twinge tightened in Gideon’s heart, and a streak of something unfamiliar rose from the depths of who he was.

Breighly laughed beside him. “Looks like you better hurry up and make up your mind if you do. Look at the brawny muscle on that Fae guard. Oaaaffff.” She let out a dramatic sigh as she fanned herself. “And he’s just touched the small of her back. How could a girl resist him?”

Gideon drank the full jug of ale in one go, his heart thumping against his ribs.

“Give me that, you idiot.” Breighly snatched the jug from his hand. “If you don’t go and rescue her, smack your lips to hers, and show her the best night of her life, I will, dumpling head.” She paused, sizing him up before she looked back to the dancefloor. “But you never know, Fae-boy might get there before me, considering the size of his thighs and the fact that he is holding her like he might—”

Gideon threw a hand up. “By the Gods! Don’t finish that sentence. Okay, okay, I am going.”

A victorious smile slashed across her berry-coloured lips. “Good boy.” She reached up and patted his forehead with her palm. Hard. “It’s about Gods-damned time.”

Just as Gideon geared up to head over and interrupt Sybil’s dance, a terrible scream broke through the room. He didn’t have to guess who it was; a Blacksteel knew the screams of another Blacksteel. A rush of hunting adrenaline coursed through Gideon’s body, like it always did when he was about to slay a demon. He turned and ran toward the screams.

Yet, he saw no members of the Dark Army. He saw Arlo Stryker on the floor, holding Kellen in his arms, who looked painted white, and his eyes were glazed with a bleached coating.

“Kellen,” Arlo cried in panic. “Wake up, Kellen. Please.”

Gideon, being trained to feel demonic presences, scanned the room again, fearing that he had missed something. Torin was also in a battle stance, still hovering over his brother, a small sword unsheathed at his side.

As Arlo held his head, Kellen began twisting in his arms, writhing as he spoke in an ancient tongue. A crowd began to gather around them, and screams of panic and whispers began circling.

Gideon had slain things that the normal person couldn’t even bear to conjure up in a nightmare, but this was the most sinister thing he had ever witnessed.

“Who’s doing this to him?” Gideon shouted at Torin.

“If I knew, would I be standing here instead of ripping out their fucking hearts?” Torin spat back, and that’s when Gideon saw fear in Torin’s eyes. He had no idea what was happening.

“Is it magic?” he heard someone whisper.

“Let me through,” his mother said, parting the crowd. “Let me through.”

“Stand back,” Torin commanded. “All of you. Move back.”

Everyone obeyed instantly, and for the first time, Gideon witnessed his brother’s power as the commander. A shiver crept over his body. Not out of fear, but out of respect for him. The same blood that ran in Gideon’s veins ran in Torin’s, yet at times they couldn’t be more different. He was a leader, his superior, and Gideon had no issue with stepping into line for him.

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