Page 73 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

The red-eyed male only laughs.

Something inside me snaps. I lunge, swinging my blades. He dodges but lets out a sharp hiss. When I pull my blades back toward myself, I note the blood glistening at the tip of my left one.

Stepping closer, I reach for the male’s hood, all too eager to reveal his identity. With the ease of a well-trained warrior, he blocks me. The motion knocks me back, but I quickly reclaim my balance.

But I’m not fast enough.

In the time it takes me to reorient myself, wings materialize from the red-eyed male’s back. They appear out of thin air, translucent at first before solidifying. Dark, feathered wings propel him into the skies like a shooting star. Amidst his takeoff, his hood falls, revealing rich brown hair beneath the light of the moon.

Hair, the same color as…

Myrdin.

Lost for breath, I stagger backward. My blades nearly slip from my grasp.

“Gods-damn it, Bladesinger!” Asheros curses, rushing to me. “What on earth were you thinking?”

“I was impulsive and stupid, I’m aware,” I grumble, sheathing my blades. Shame washes over me, and I wipe my face. If she were here, Ceren would have thoroughly scolded me for my lack of caution. That kind of recklessness gets people killed.

Bracing myself for Asheros’s anger, I take a breath. But when I meet his stare, it’s not anger I see. Not even disappointment, or annoyance.

All I see is pure, unbridled fear.

“He could have—” Swallowing whatever he’d started to say, he searches my expression, and his diamond irises soften as he does. He reaches for me and pulls me to his chest. “You could have been hurt.”

At first, I stiffen.

He was… Afraid for me?

I melt into his embrace and wrap my arms around him in return. I don’t know how long we stand there, holding each other, before I hear Savell and Ronan shift their weight behind us.

Asheros and I part, though, his hand on the small of my back keeps me close.

“Come,” he says. “Let’s rejoin the others.”

Back inside Arella’s small cottage, the eight of us, including Arella, don worried looks. Unease hangs in the air, heavy with the implications of what just occurred.

“Thank the gods we were here,” Kheldryn murmurs, an arm wrapped around Arella. “If we hadn’t…”

“If we hadn’t”—Asheros’s eyes narrow in thought—“tonight would have ended very differently.”

“She’s not safe here,” Savell adds, very matter-of-factly.

“Oh really?” Gryska crosses her arms, her voice gruff. “What gave ya that impression?”

Ignoring Gryska, Savell gestures to Arella. “She needs protection.”

“I agree.” Asheros nods and then directs his attention to Orim. “If I asked you to take Arella to your family’s manor and guard her until we’ve dealt with Vorr’s killer, would you?”

“You know I’d do anything you asked of me.” Orim’s jaw sets with determination.

“Good.” Asheros looks at Arella, some of the tension working at his mouth easing. “Whether you choose to stay here, or go with Orim, the decision is yours and yours alone.”

“I promise, I’ll keep you safe,” Orim says, meeting her eyes. “I know you don’t know me well enough yet, but I hope to earn your trust.”

As though seeking her guidance, Arella turns to Kheldryn, her eyes wide.

“He may look unassuming,” Kheldryn says, her tone warm, “but he’s fierce and one of the most loyal males in the realm.”

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