Page 75 of King of Flames and Shadows

I glare up at him, fury sparking to life again, flaring hot enough to sear through the shock and weakness.

“I thought you would have the courage to face me alone,” I snarl, straining against the chains, ignoring the pain as they bite deeper. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected honor from you.”

Ulric’s twisted smile widens as he straightens, his gaze darkening. He paces a few steps away, his hands clasped behind his back, watching me with a glint of satisfaction.

“Oh, I faced you, Arvoren,” he says, his voice carrying a sinister calm. “And I knew what it would take to win.” Hegestures to the mages, who watch in silence, their expressions hidden, but their power radiating in cold waves. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done alone, Arvoren. Everything. Every plan, every alliance, every sacrifice. I didn’t need shadows—Iusedthem. All this time, every move you made, I was one step ahead, watching as you played your little game ofking,biding my time. Cementing my influence among those closest to you.”

The words hit like a physical blow. Something hardens in my chest, a sickening something dawning within me, though I cannot yet identify it.

“How close?” I manage, my voice barely more than a rasp, but the question sharpens as I lock eyes with him, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “How close could any of them truly be? You know me better than that, brother. I love no one.”

Ulric’s smile widens, his silver eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. He leans close, his voice a low, mocking whisper that burns with cold venom.

“Close enough to sit at your table,” he breathes, his gaze gleaming. “Close enough to convince you to open your castle, your catacombs, to us. Close enough to feed us the information we needed to kill you for good.”

My head spins. Even now, some part of my brain refuses to comprehend what he is saying to me, though I know on some level that I should understand it. But I cannot. Grief has taken me whole. My brain is unwilling to allow me to believe what he is telling me.

My wretched brother turns to the mages, nodding once. “Strengthen the chains. Let’s show the king how he treated his pretty little broodmare before her untimely death, shall we?”

The chanting resumes, dark and implacable, filling the air with a hum of malevolent power as the chains around metighten further, binding me to the ground, sapping the last of the strength from me.

Chapter 36 - Calliope

I come to in pieces.

Consciousness slips in slowly, fragment by fragment, the world around me thick with shadow and heat. My whole body aches, pulsing with pain in a rhythm that matches the distant thunder of explosions and dragon roars. I can’t breathe, not deeply. Each inhale is shallow, choked with ash and smoke that scratches my throat like broken glass. I have the vague sense that I’m actively dying.

For a while, I don’t know where I am. I don’t know if I’m alive, or if I’ve drifted into some dark corner of whatever lies beyond. My mind fights to place itself, casting desperately through fog and pain until the memory of falling—the bone-rattling snap of the beam, the shattering stone, Ulric’s flames and Arvoren’s roar—floods back in a horrible rush.

I should be dead.

Hands—rough but warm—grip my shoulders, lifting me from the pile of rubble I’ve landed in. I feel floaty, unreal. A voice I can’t quite catch murmurs something, low and urgent, in my ear. The stranger tilts my head back gently, pouring a draught of something cool and bitter down my throat. The liquid settles like fire in my belly, sparking with an unfamiliar heat that pulses through my limbs, knitting something inside me back together. A little life returns, enough that I can draw in a ragged breath. A healing draught. The kind I once brewed for the people of Essenborn, in another life.

I blink, my vision sharpening. I see them—a figure cloaked in green, their face half-hidden by the hood. The stranger drags me to my feet, one arm slung around myshoulders, half-pulling, half-carrying me toward the cover of an alcove that miraculously hasn’t been swallowed by flames.

We stumble out of the worst of the smoke, and I feel the ground firm up beneath me, though I’m still too weak to do much more than lean against the wall.

When I finally focus on the person’s face, a spark of recognition flares in my chest. Her face is pale, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion, but there’s no mistaking her as she leans over me.

“Lyra?” My voice is a cracked whisper, barely audible.

But her eyes lift to meet mine, widening with relief. And just like that, it’s real—she’s alive. Somehow, she’s survived the night so far.

She throws her arms gingerly around me, limbs weak. I cling to her, desperate and disbelieving, wrapping my arms around her as tightly as my strength will allow.

“Lyra, you’re here. You’re alive,” I whisper, a broken laugh slipping out of me. “I thought I’d lost you—I thought …”

She lets out a soft sound, almost a laugh, but it’s thin and brittle. I pull back, and the faintest hint of a smile flits across her lips. But there’s something hollow in her eyes. Pain? Perhaps. It’s too dark for me to see much of her. But she’s shaking.

“Calliope,” she says, her voice trembling, the name barely escaping her lips. Her gaze is desperate, a flicker of agony and something darker that I can’t yet place. “Listen to me—there’s something you need to know. Linus … he isn’t who he told you he was.”

The words settle into me slowly, their reality seating itself in my stomach. It isn’t a surprise. Of course it isn’t.

“What do you mean?” I rasp.

Fire rages around us. In the sky high above, dragons screech. I hear wailing and the clashing of swords in the streets not far from here, where we lie at the foot of the castle, clinging to life, miraculously surviving.

“He’s a traitor,” Lyra whispers, her voice rough with the weight of the word. “I found out what he was doing, his plans for you. He plans to leave you for dead here. When I confronted him, he … Calliope, he left me there to die. He didn’t want me to warn you.”

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