Page 93 of Thorns of Deceit: The Beast Within

Not enough. Not fast enough.

Skylar’s mind raced, memories flashing in a dizzying whirl. Her mother’s soft smile. Conley’s tiny fingers curling around hers.

Last of the Anathemarks.

All she had left.

Everything she had done, everything she had endured—crumbling to dust.

For what?

To die here? Helpless? Watching her family torn apart?

No.

She was still too far. Princess Quince loomed larger with each passing second. Skylar’s heart slammed against her ribs, a war drum in her chest. She pushed harder, ignoring the burning in her lungs and the trembling in her legs. Her vision narrowed, edges blurring as she focused solely on her goal.

The stench hit her in waves. Acrid smoke. Copper-tang of blood. The sour reek of fear and voided bowels. It mingled with the sickly-sweet odor emanating from Princess Quince’s transformed body. Bile rose. She swallowed hard, forcing it back down.

Time slowed. Cruel clarity.

Not going to make it not going to make it not going to?—

Just as despair threatened to overwhelm her, a flash of silver caught her eye.

Blood erupted from Princess Quince’s back, a fountain of dark crimson and sickly green spraying into the air. The tip of a sword protruded from her torso.

Time stopped.

Skylar skidded to a halt. Chest heaving. Mind reeling.

“I should have done that a long time ago.” Arye’s voice. Cold. Satisfied.

He yanked the blade free with a sickening squelch. Princess Quince’s form crumbled, collapsing to the ground in a heap. Before Skylar’s disbelieving eyes, the creature began to wither, disintegrating into flakes of black dust that scattered across the bloodstained floor.

The ballroom fell into stunned silence. The implications hung heavy in the air, suffocating in its intensity.

They had killed Thorncrest royalty.

The princess was dead.

This was war.

And still…

Relief flooded through Skylar, so intense it made her knees weak. She stumbled forward, desperate to reach her family. Her feet slipped in the gore, and she nearly fell. Only the Gryphon’s head steadied her, its feathers brushing against her skin with surprising softness.

Around them, the remaining Thorncrest soldiers deflated, their resolve crumbling with their princess. Some dropped their weapons, sinking to their knees in surrender. Others, driven by desperation, loyalty, or madness, fought on with renewed ferocity.

Steel clashed on steel.

“Secure the perimeter!” Captain Knox barked. “I want every inch of this place locked down!”

King Lyinell stepped forward. Face hard. Eyes gleaming with dangerous fervor.

“My loyal subjects,” he addressed the shell-shocked crowd, his voice carrying across the devastated ballroom. “What we have witnessed here tonight is nothing short of an act of war. Thorncrest’s treachery will not go unanswered.”

A ripple of tension passed through the assembled nobles. Some nodded in grim agreement, while others exchanged fearfulglances. “This can’t be happening,” someone whispered. “I don’t want this.”

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