Page 111 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

“You know, you are much smarter than I had ever given you credit for. You proved yourself to be quite the thorn in my side, thwarting my plans to take out the girl in Esvelon, and then surprising me at Lyndhaven. Quite the feat, I should say.”

Gods-damn me. I should run. I should fight. I should do something. But for some reason, my traitorous feet remain locked in place.

“And now, forcing my hand…” He clicks his tongue. “Thanks to you, there is too much at stake to delay any longer.”

My blood boils. I knew I heard something in the hallway last night. “It was you outside the door, eavesdropping.”

“You should have stayed away, Lymseia. You should have stayed at High Keep, behind the castle walls. At Lyndhaven, you were duly warned. But no,” Tanyl drawls, red-eyes beginning to emit an unholy glow. “You had to play the hero, the noble captain willing to risk it all to defend her king.”

“And hide, like a coward?” I spit, leaning into the tough act I’m playing. A tingling, prickly feeling lines my insides like a thousand tiny needles. “I think not.”

“So brash,” he sneers as if I’m an unworthy insect beneath his boot. “Perhaps it is good that you are the second-born. You are much too unruly for Court politics.”

“Yes, well, that unruliness you despise has made me quite the force to be reckoned with,” I say, raising my short swords. “And you’ll regret crossing paths with me.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Tanyl’s focus closes in on me, his voice dripping with sinister certainty. “You see, I have you right where I want you. Alone. Defenseless.”

I snort, gripping my swords. “Clearly, you’re blind and an idiot. An unfortunate combination.”

“You have no idea what it is you are up against,” Tanyl seethes with a curl of his mouth. “But no matter, I am more than obliged to show you just how ignorant you truly are.”

He raises his hands, fingers outstretched, and I take a step back. “How fitting is it, that you have come to die in the place where your life began.”

Panic blares, searing each of my nerve-endings. My breathing quickens, breaths turning shallow. I shift to raise my swords but feel as though I’ve been trapped in ice. My blades fall from my hands, landing on the ground by my feet. Darkness seeps into my vision, clouding my mind.

I try to shake away the sensation, but even my head refuses to obey.

“Just think of the chaos your death will cause,” Tanyl says, drawing out the words. “The second-born lady of the Steel Court, missing for months with no news?” He pauses, the glow of his eyes a vibrant, blood red, similarly colored power vibrating beneath the skin of his palms. “Only to be found dead.”

Unable to support my weight, my legs turn to jelly. I fall backward, and my back slams to the ground. Hard. It knocks the wind out of me, but there’s not much I can do to remedy it.

There’s not much I can do at all.

I can’t even speak.

I’m completely, utterly helpless.

“Die slowly, little Wynterliff,” Tanyl says, and it’s the last thing I hear before my consciousness fades. “For the kindling has been gathered, and your death will be the spark that ignites my war.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Asheros

My heart leaps into my throat, sending me upright with a start, my breaths rough and heaving.

Raw, blazing alarm wreaks havoc on my body, my limbs tight with adrenaline. Immediately, my head snaps to my left, to the empty space in the bed beside me.

Tension works at my jaw, and I repeatedly run my hands through my hair.

Fear.

Clutching my shirt, I quickly make sense of the blood pounding in my ears.

Fear, yes. But not mine.

Hers.

My mate is afraid.

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