Page 122 of The Blood Crown

Blue cloaks poured a line of salt inside the threshold, closing the ring that had been poured around the palace’s perimeter.

Her eyes lifted to the shadow towering above her—to the raging crimson storm in Ven’s gaze.

His calloused hands scraped against her arms as he pulled her to her feet, his forehead pressing against hers. “That was reckless, Love.” His voice was ragged with emotion, the rebuke thin.

The very mountain seemed to tremble, a pulsing beat beneath them as she tore her eyes away from Ven to scan the night drenched forest beyond the wall. His shadows wrapped around them, depositing them at the top of the wall between Karro and Nira.

Gold threads of magick spidered out from the wards, perforating the night as demons flung themselves at the barrier, most catching fire against the spells or being shot down by archers before they had the chance to pass beyond the wardlines.

Disgust boiled up in her throat as she uttered, “They’re killing themselves . . .”

“They have no thought—no motivation other than to obey their princes,” Ven answered solemnly.

“But where are they?” she murmured.

“They are waiting,” Nira answered.

Loose!was echoed across the wall as more demons ripped through the wards, forcing the spellmasters to fall back. The Wraiths at the front line cut them down, dozens more pouring in before the ash cleared as the archers found their marks, arrows whistling between the black-haired Blood Folk.

The putrid stench of sulfur was choking now, tingeing the night air an impenetrable black. Dark wings streaked across the sky, diving through the air as the ravens gouged out eyes and ripped out throats with their beaks and claws. But still—the demons came.

Ven scanned the scene before them, his eyes sliding to Nira with a somber nod.

“Fall back!” Nira shouted.

The order echoed across the battlement.

The pale blue cloaks of the spellmasters were swallowed up in shadow as the Wraiths cast them inside the gates. And Aurelia watched as dark bodies spilled through the tears in the wards, twisting and burning as they pulled themselves through.

The line of demons thickened at the gates, seven deep just beyond the palace walls. Aurelia glanced below to the salt line ringing the entire fortress, crossing every threshold, praying it would hold.

Grey-skinned Allokin flooded the battlements now, Lanthius calling orders as the large crates they’d hauled onto the walls were opened.

Pale green light bled through the forest, revealing three figures far off in the distance. Too far for her to see their faces—yet she knew who stalked at the center of them.

“Maloch,” Karro uttered, venom dripping from his voice, hand gripping his blade tighter.

“His death is not yours to take,” a voice hissed from behind them.

Valea’s spider-silk hair whipped across her face in the wind as she took a step onto the battlement, vengeance glittering in her bright red eyes. Her hair had been braided back from the severe angles of her face, stark against the shadowskin gear she now wore.

Karro’s eyes traveled the length of her body, but the female did not balk from his assessment, arching a silver brow in challenge as his gaze finally swept back up to hers. “As you wish,” he answered.

Valea studied him—the same narrowed focus of a hawk before it found its prey. She took the bow from her shoulder, slipping past Karro to take her place in the row of archers.

Terror drug icy claws down her spine, but Aurelia refused to look away as the three figures approached. The two princes on either side of Maloch were unknown to her, but there was no mistaking them for what they were. Horrifyingly beautiful just as Maloch was and Asmodeous had been.

The valley shook with Maloch's footsteps, silence rippling across the night.

“Get closer, you mute bastard,” Karro uttered under his breath. “You’ll find the Blood Folk have sharp blades and sharper teeth.”

Ven stilled beside her, silent and unmoving as the princes parted the demons without a single thought, crossing the broken wardlines. Close enough now that she could see the black sutures that marred Maloch’s face—his vengeful eyes trained on her as his voice floated across the hushed forest.

My brother offered you a choice, and you killed him. And now,the prince uttered,everyone here will bear the weight of your hubris.

The truth of his words cut through her like a knife, guilt pressing down on her shoulders. The King of the Void had sent his army here for the sole purpose of drawing her out, and the humans would pay the price.

Not only the humans, she thought, as she looked down the battlement to the rows of Allokin archers and black-clad Wraiths. Even the blue cloaks were stone-faced as they held their positions between the immortals, facing down the demon army before them. And Fate bless them, they did not show an ounce of fear.

---