Page 29 of A Petal in the Crown

“You were right, Erik. But he's not here anymore,” Lea said. Gray clenched his fists but nodded grimly, likely sensing the same thing. If Noah were here… A sharp stab of pain made Lea's breath catch.

Sweet Noah, with his tracking magic. Maybe if he were still here, they could follow his trail. The pain morphed into anger as the image of his skull bouncing down the hill replayed in her head.

“Let's go inside,” Gray said, placing a hand on her lower back as if sensing where her mind had gone. “Maybe there’s some hint to where he fled.” With an order for Erik to stand outside, Gray kicked the door inward and disappeared into the shadows. Lea followed behind him,grumbling under her breath that she would have liked to kick the door in. It wouldn’t help with her darkness, but it would have at least felt good to get some tension out of her body.

Lea choked on the dust kicked up by the door’s movement, her vision adjusting to the complete darkness without the light of the moon to illuminate the windowless hut. The feeling of Alaric’s magic was clearer here, like a fingerprint on a clean, washed window. Lea ran her fingers along the freezing stone walls, then the floor, hoping for some sort of vision like Erik had seen when he’d touched the battleground. But there was no crater here, no handprint seared into the ground. Wherever he had gone, it didn’t appear that he’d used his magic to disappear, and Lea found comfort in that, hoping he was too wounded to have expended so much energy.

“Blood,” Gray said, interrupting her thoughts. Lea’s magic soared, rejoicing as her shadows slithered to where Gray squatted in a corner, his fingertips pressed against a dark irregular splotch in the dirt. He stood, following the trail of small red dots to the back exit, a wooden door with a bloody handprint on the latch.

Lea and Gray shared a tension filled look as Gray placed his calloused hand on top of the bloody handprint, and Lea held her breath, praying for some sort of clue, but his eyes remained clear.

“Nothing,” he said, confirming Lea's suspicion that Alaric hadn’t used magic to vanish this time. Gray pushed open the door, and Thomas jumped to attention outside.

“Dammit!” Gray hissed, the drops of blood disappearing into the long, unruly grass. Lea walked forward, trying to follow the trail of magic as it led away from the castle, but the farther she got from the shed, the more faint it became until it disappeared altogether. Lea had known Alaric wasn’t there, but the fact that there wasn’t a single clue to where he had gone caused fury to rise up her throat, hot enough that Lea fearedspeaking would cause it to shoot from her mouth and burn the hut to the ground. Black flames grew around her feet, gray smoke twirling into the sky. But a heavy hand fell on her shoulder, its calming effect instant.

“We knew it was unlikely we'd find anything.” Gray squeezed her shoulder. “This changes nothing. We’ll find him,” he said.

Lea wanted to believe him, desperately. But it was as if the gods were taunting them. As he said the words, a petal fell from Lea’s crown, floating down in front of her eyes and turning to ash in Lea’s flames.

She sucked in a deep breath, her fingers raising toward the crown on her head, but she stopped herself. The godsweretaunting her. Of that, she had no doubt. But she refused to let them see her fear. Lea clenched her jaw and turned on her heel, ignoring the shocked silence of her friends and their panicked stares, and stormed back toward the castle.

She didn’t bother arguing with him, didn’t have the energy or patience. But Gray was wrong in saying it changed nothing. Their lack of finding any hint or clue to guide them changed everything. Without a way forward, and with time running out, they were doomed.

Chapter 18

Gray

Nothing could have prepared Gray for what he’d see once he walked into the castle, but it wasn't his mate’s shadows or her searing black fire that made him stop in his tracks. What made him pause was that the castle was in utter ruin. The once grand chandelier lay smashed on the stone floor, a million sharp, sparkling pieces scattered like diamonds across the blood-stained rug. The rich, ancient tapestries that had hung proudly in the great hall for hundreds of years had been torn to ribbons and now swayed gently in the breeze coming in through the shattered windows. Dust and debris were everywhere, a thick layer of glass and stone that crunched under his boots as he turned in a slow circle, taking in the damage.

Not a single one of Alaric’s soldiers were inside, but Gray wasn't sure if that was because Tanad had taken care of them while they’d searched the hut, or if they had simply fled upon their arrival. His mother had told him in her letters that their home had fallen into disrepair, but this was far more than a neglected building. It was a battlefield, destroyed by a madman in a wretched push for power. The desperation was evident in every piece of glass and stone and cloth.

“You.” Gray pointed to the eldest of a group of young maids cowering in the corner. Lea drew her sword and Gray stiffened, watching out of thecorner of his eye. He could feel Lea’s need to fight—to use her power. He could only imagine that seeing the evidence of whatever evil had taken place here was only fueling her primary magic and worsening her need to destroy. But as far as they knew, these girls were innocent.

Gritting her teeth, Lea squeezed the hilt of the sword, then nodded for him to continue. Gray’s breath loosened, his heart slowing. She was only discerning the truth. For now, she had control of her darkness.

“How did this happen?” Gray asked the oldest girl, reeling in his shadows. Her shoulders lowered a fraction as the shadows receded from the room.

“Alaric. He…” she trailed off, her eyes filling with tears. “We've done our best to clean the mess, but he killed so many, we haven’t made much progress. Anyone with magic, all his advisors...”

“Our sister,” one of the younger girls said, her voice breaking.

Emma took a deep breath and stepped forward, wrapping an arm around the terrified girl's shoulders. She began to lead her from the room, but Gray stopped them.

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“Weeks ago, before the army left.”

“And has he returned?” Gray asked. “My brother?”

The girl shook her head furiously. “We haven't seen him, thank the gods. Many of his soldiers returned. Those with nowhere else to go.”

“Where are those who returned?” Erik asked, standing straighter.

The girl's eyes darted sideways. “The king—the foreign one—he took them to the dungeons.”

“What about my mother? Queen Genevieve? Did she return as well?” Gray’s heart skipped a beat as he asked the question. There was every chance Alaric’s soldiers would have killed her on sight.

“No. I haven't seen her since before she fled.”

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