Page 111 of Dueling the Suitors

He took the lead as they emerged from the damp dungeon corridor into the dimly lit castle hallways. Early evening light filtered through the narrow windows. One of Rowan’s men crossed their path. He barely had time to react before he was frozen in place with a flick of Cyrus’ wrist, surprise etched on his face.

They moved past him, doing the same to every man of Rowan’s who crossed their path. None of the castle staff seemed to be around. It made sense that Rowan would place his own men throughout the castle, but if he had done something to their people because of their undying loyalty to Cyrus, Astoria would make him pay double.

A group of Rowan’s men stood at the grand staircase near the throne room. Astoria and Cyrus immobilized them before they could raise the alarm.

Muffled voices drifted towards them from the throne room. Its doors were closed, and no one was guarding it. Astoria recognized Rowan’s voice. It sounded like he was holding a meeting. She glanced aside at Cyrus and they strode forward together, bursting open the doors.

Gasps and shouts of surprise filled the air. The room was surprisingly crowded. Astoria faintly recognized some of them from her coronation—the vassal kings and their men.

“Traitors,” Cyrus gritted through his teeth, and Astoria felt his righteous anger ignite in her own bloodstream.

“What is the meaning of this?” Rowan’s voice thundered from the dais. Astoria turned to him as he shot to his feet from his unearned throne, glaring daggers at them.

“You tell us, Rowan,” Cyrus countered, his rage barely suppressed.

But Rowan turned to his men and shouted, “Guards! Chain them!”

“Oh, really?” Cyrus snorted, and with a wave of his hand, froze the men in their place before they could even fumble for the cuffs hanging from their waists.

Sharp gasps rose from the traitor kings. They shrank back as Cyrus turned to them, looking between him and Rowan with fear alight in their eyes.

“Who is next?”

In her peripheral view, Astoria saw Rowan raise his hands. She was hurled backward instantly, flying out of the throne room into the hallway. She sprouted a vine bed from the marble floor before hitting the ground, with Cyrus landing a few feet behind her.

Rowan’s laugh boomed across the room. “You think you can stop me?”

Astoria grunted and pushed herself up to her elbows, fighting back a snort. They had been prepared. She and Cyrus wanted him to think he had the upper hand.

Astoria began to move towards Cyrus when footsteps thundered down the hallway. She looked up and froze. So did the owner of the footsteps and the ones catching up behind him.

“Storie!”

Fierce joy exploded in her heart. “Emmett!”

Emmett advanced towards her, a sword clutched in his hand, but Astoria was quick to cast a shield and block him. “No! Stay back!”

Silas was right behind him, and so were Jasper, Skylar, Spyrah, and at least twenty of Daliston’s guards. Her brother was never less careful when it came to her.

“Watch out!”

Cyrus flung an arm and threw up a shield in front of them. Astoria’s head whipped around in time to see Rowan’s spellsclashing against it, one after another. She stretched out her own arm and strengthened the shield.

A hand clasped over hers on the floor. Astoria turned and met Cyrus’ determined eyes.

“Till death do us part,” he vowed, his intense gaze boring into her soul.

She stared back. The beautiful depths of his eyes represented the night sky adorned with a million stars. “Till death do us part,” she repeated.

They stood and turned to face Rowan together.

The air was thick with magical energy. Rowan’s spells were still clashing against their shield. Astoria could feel the power flowing through her, far more than it ever had. Cyrus threaded their fingers, and they walked back into the throne room, pushing forward their shield.

Rowan raised his hands, and dark energy swirled around him in smoky-grey threads. Wizard Orion joined his side, his fingers dancing in intricate patterns, summoning a storm of elemental force. Without a word, the two launched their spells, twin beams of destructive magic hurtling towards Astoria and Cyrus.

Astoria tightened her grip on Cyrus’ hand.

The spells collided with their shield, clashing violently against it instead of dissolving like the previous ones. The room reverberated with the force of the impact, sparks and flashes everywhere.

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