Page 294 of Heat of the Everflame

He sheathed his sword.

“Vice General?” he barked at a man behind him. “Pull back the Descended. Send in the mortal battalions. Let the Queen have a go at them instead.”

My stomach dropped to my feet, taking my smirk with it. The High General’s dark laughter reverberated in my head as a wall of brown-eyed soldiers stepped through the front lines.

I threw up a barrier of sparks, ominous but harmless. The High General either didn’t believe I would hurt them or simply didn’t care—either way, he bellowed an order, the mortals advanced unscathed, and my bluff was called.

My heart lurched. I was outnumbered, outsmarted, trapped between harming the very people I was fighting to save or reveal the secret I was desperate to keep.

“Fine—you want to meet your King’s new heir?” I shouted, jaw tight. I summoned the Crown into view atop my head. “Here I am. Now get on the ground and fuckingkneel.”

“That’s not our Crown,” he stammered, though recognition blanched his face.

“It’s the Crown of Lumnosandthe Crown of Fortos.” My smile was frosty. “It seems the Kindred have learned to share their toys.”

His head thrashed in stunned denial. “This—this is some kind of trick.”

“And what of the Descended prisoners—whattrickrestored their magic? Whattrickopened the bloodlocks on their cells?”

“You are a woman,” he spat. “The Blessed Father would never choose—”

His words choked as my palm stretched toward him, fingers twisting in. He gripped at his gut, wobbled on his feet, then sank, features gnarled in a horrified stare.

Fury flickered in my eyes. “Tell me again what the Blessed Father would not do,” I seethed.

The battlefield turned eerily quiet. Swords began to lower. A few knelt in wary salute. Even the mortals fell still, caught in a Descended political landmine.

My chin jutted high. “You will stand down and let me leave. I have business in Lumnos. When I am done, I will return to Fortos, and we—”

“No.”

The word exploded through the field.

The High General climbed back to his feet, knuckles white along his fists.

I swallowed tightly. “I am your Queen, and you will obey my com—”

“No,” he said again. “I don’t know what blasphemous spell you’ve managed to weave, but this is Fortos. We do not kneel to bitches like you.” He pointed a finger. “Mortals—kill the traitor.”

An awkward silence hung. Not a single mortal advanced. They shrank back, faces drawn with conflict.

“Kill her,” he barked again. “And if anyone refuses, I’ll use them as kindling on her pyre.”

To prove his point, he raised a palm at the mortal nearest me, a ruddy-cheeked young recruit. The soldier managed only a choked-off grunt before his boyish face slackened in heartbreaking, excruciating realization, then faded to a deathly shade of grey.

“Stop!” I screamed.

My shield whipped forward a beat too late. By the time it glimmered into place, the only thing it guarded was a pile of bones and rotting ash.

“Every minute she’s not dead, one of you meets the same fate,” the High General warned.

This time, no one hesitated. They crushed in on me in a swinging, snarling fight for their own lives that I met with magic and chaos.

Everythingunleashed—thrashing vines mixed with watery torrents, patches of slippery ice spun with bursts of churning air. While I fought desperately to push them back without taking their lives, my godhood hissed a plea to ignite a bonfire of sinew and blood. I yanked on its reins to hold back its most violent desires, but as mortals broke through my defenses, I feared my own panicked heart would betray me—and them.

Two dark swords took form in my hands. With bedlam all around me, I had to trust my training to guide me as the song of combat struck up its bloody tune. I parried and feinted, thrusted and lunged, leaning on my father’s lessons and emulating Alixe’s savage grace.

The crush pressed in and in and in. For every soldier I stopped, two more took their place. My reflexes turned sluggish, my instincts began to fail.

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