Page 1 of Scourged

Prologue

The cold, aching rip in his chest dragged Sebastian from the clutches of sleep.

The bridge that lived there—the one binding him to his queen, woven by her miraculous magic of light and life—had only just started to feel like a part of him. But now it was cracking and crumbling as if a great, ancient beast were hurling dark stones upon its brilliance.

He lurched from his bed, feet hitting the cold floor, clutching at his bare chest. He gasped for air, tears streaming down his face, the sudden pain wracking him with a ferocious intensity.

Sebastian’s entire world stood still, then tilted violently on its axis.

He threw himself toward a chair, snatching a discarded pair of trousers from the back and sliding them up his legs, hands shaking. His breathing labored as he found a rumpled cotton shirt, tugging it over his head. He grabbed his sword from the wall, belting it around his waist as he staggered into the hall.

Sebastian was unsurprised to find he was not alone.

Drystan leaned heavily against his door frame, longsword unsheathed, Feran by his side, gripping his Kreah short swords with tense, white knuckles. Quentin, wild red hair in disarrayand a manic gleam in his eye rushed into the hall, baldric strapped across his chest as he palmed a throwing knife in each hand. Matheo and Trefor were close on Quentin’s heels, bows and arrows notched, and more weapons strapped to their sides.

The only one not present … was Andrian. The hair on Sebastian’s arms rose.

In a single movement, their panic threading together through the air, Mariah’s Armature turned to Mariah’s door.

Sebastian didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. He leaped into motion, rushing down the hall and slamming his body against the heavy white and gold oak door. The lock snapped, a few pieces of splintered wood skittering across the marble floor, the door crashing off the wall.

The silence that greeted him was the loudest.

He rushed into his queen’s suite, the others behind him. The balcony doors were closed, the hearths burned out. Mariah’s things were scattered around the space—a pair of discarded boots in the corner, two short swords from the palace armory on the island, blankets and sweaters strewn over the back of the plush couches.

It was perfectly normal … save for the silence.

Sebastian turned slowly to the right, to Mariah’s bedroom door.

Heropendoor.

Fear gripped him close and held him to its chest as he moved closer to the entrance, peering inside.

It was dark, the bed rumpled. Slept in, but …

Sebastian pushed the door open wider and flipped alunestairswitch on the wall. Drystan stepped to his side as the room blazed with illuminating, silver-gold light.

Revealing the empty bed.

Swift inhales of breath and shocked murmurs echoed behind Sebastian, but his eyes had latched onto something that filled him with more fear than even that empty room could.

Drystan cursed, low and savage, metal clanking as he rushed past Sebastian into the room. He halted beside the bed, hands clenching into fists, before half-turning to Sebastian. “She’s not here.”

Sebastian didn’t answer him. Couldn’t move, still held captive by what lay discarded on Mariah’s nightstand.

“Sebastian?” Matheo’s earnest question loosened Sebastian’s feet. With more jolting steps, he shuffled forward to that nightstand.

He picked up the object of his attention, holding it in his hands with a pained, blank expression. Turning sluggishly to face the others, his movements slowed by his fear, Sebastian watched his shock and horror slowly reflect themselves across the other’s faces.

His hands tightened around the worn leather hilt of Mariah’s dragon-winged dagger. The dagger she never went anywhere without.

The dagger she would’veneverleft here … unless she truly believed she wouldn’t need it.

Or … Sebastian swallowed.

Or if she’d been forced to leave it.

Sebastian couldn’t stop his mind from snagging on one person. One person who could have made her feel that safety. One person who was also horribly, maddeningly, sickeningly missing.

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