Page 171 of Lady of Shadows

A water portal appeared behind Nakoa. “Take a walk,Commander,” Briar ordered, his tone pure Fae primal command. Without a word, Nakoa turned on his heel and disappeared through the portal.

Scarlett turned and looked around the room. A mixture of fear, respect, and awe mingled on the faces that stared back, no one daring to speak. “I’ll meet with you all tomorrow afternoon.”

With shadows once again trailing her, she stepped through the world without another word.

CHAPTER 53

SORIN

Sorin watched the queen as she released her temper in the courtyard. Her witch-suit was gone. She was clad in her lightweight training pants and a long-sleeve tunic that barely covered her midriff. She held the Spirit Sword in one hand and threw fire and ice at the various wards, dodging and striking as they bounced back at her. Shadows swirled in her wake as she flipped and ducked and twirled, fighting against herself. He had been training her, yes, but he had not realized how much she had been practicing in her own time. Howgoodshe had actually become. He shouldn’t be surprised, really. Downplaying her skills was what kept many from realizing how big of a threat she actually was.

But more than any of that, something had awoken since she had accepted her throne. Some inner barrier she had been keeping in place had been lifted. She had been wading slowly into her power before, cautiously experimenting. But now it appeared she had decided to plunge in and see how deep she could go. She hadn’t been resting enough. Diving so deep so quickly was going to have serious consequences, and soon.

The others had dispersed quickly when she had left, Briar leaving to deal with Nakoa.

“The fucking Black Syndicate?” Eliza asked, still in disbelief, her tone accusatory.

“I can guarantee she has been holding back in training with you, Eliza,” Sorin had replied. “I saw her fight with Death’s Shadow, who is a Night Child by the way, with no magic. Pinned her to the floor with only a dagger, then laughed in delight about it.”

“You were right, Cyrus, I might have competition after all,” Eliza had said to his Second, a wicked smile crossing her lips.

“You have no idea,” Sorin muttered. “That she did not get into a damn brawl with Nakoa is a testament to the control she has learned.”

“She is truly Death’s Maiden?” Cyrus asked, his eyes conveying the shock he still felt.

Sorin nodded. “Yes. She and the others, her sisters she will call them, tracked down Eliné’s assassin…and then she personally took care of him. At the age of sixteen.”

Cyrus swore viciously under his breath. “I suppose if she insists on going to the mortal lands, we will indeed have allies.”

“She will have some there, but she is not on good terms with the Council and is on even worse terms with the Assassin Lord. The last time they crossed paths, he…hurt her,” Sorin said through gritted teeth. If Scarlett would allow it, he would personally see to the revenge for everything she had experienced at his hand.

“Who are the Maraan Lords?” Rayner cut in quietly.

“That I do not know,” Sorin replied grimly.

Secrets. She was keeping secrets again. After they had just had a discussion about not keeping secrets from each other.

“She knows more than she is letting on, Sorin,” Eliza said. “Not only about the Maraan Lords but this man in her dreams—”

“I know,” he ground out, cutting off his general. “I will talk to her.”

“She can’t keep things from us, Sorin. She can’t—”

“I understand,” he snapped, cutting her off again. “She is used to doing things herself, especially the last year. It will take her a little time to allow herself to depend on others. She has only known you a short amount of time.”

“She has only known you a few months longer,” Eliza countered sharply.

“Precisely why I do not know a damn thing about the Maraan Lords,” Sorin retorted icily.

Eliza had merely nodded in understanding at that, and they had dispersed, leaving him to deal with the queen.

He had felt her. He had felt every bit of rage and fury, but he had also felt the flinch when Nakoa had flung those words at her. He had felt where he had hit home. He had felt what had brought that darkness surging to the surface, unsummoned by her.

He was about to step forward as he watched her duck a trio of ice daggers when he stilled. In the span of a blink, she had formed those shadows swirling her into a solid punching bag. Flames wreathed her hands, like tape wrapped around them in combat training, and she began punching. One, two. One, two. One, one, two. Over and over again, her shadows holding strong as she hit and hit and hit.

Stop gawking and draw your sword or leave, Prince,echoed down their bond.

One, two. One, two. One, one, two.

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