Page 151 of A Fate so Cruel

The guards shrank away from him. Everyone’s views of him were solely based upon an ancient prophecy. No one had heard from the gods in centuries. Sometimes Rion wondered if they were even real.

He shifted to an easy jog until he was well beyond the border of redwoods and the trees beyond.

He had a purpose. A mission. A target. And he’d accomplish his task with the same precision he’d always used. By the time Rion was done, the world would know Brónach as a ruthless, unyielding nation once again.

He just had one thing to settle first.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rion hadn’t told anyone he was traveling south rather than north. They didn’t need to know. Not until he’d finished. They’d hear the news, and if Alec wanted to confront him about it, then he could seek him out along the coastline. He wasn’t asking for permission. Not for this.

Rion paused at inns along the way, throwing coins at the innkeepers and warning them that if they valued their lives, they’d keep their mouths shut.

No one dared to confront him.

Days later, he stood outside Whiteridge’s gates. He walked the same road, saw the same guards. Only this time, Rion wasn’t entering their city with the intent to be civil. This time, he’d come to raze it to the ground.

The guards charged, their magic ripping from the ground. Rion didn’t change his pace, he merely raised one hand and crumbled the ground beneath their feet before wrapping it around their torsos. They screamed and their fear burned his nostrils. Growling, Rion threw them into those familiar white pillars, cracking the thick marble columns all the way to their tip.

Their hearts still beat. He could stop them. Kill them. But he left them there instead. He had another target in mind.

Foley. The one who’d been working with Selina. Who’d planned Rion’s demise from the first moment he’d stepped into the city. Or likely before.

Rion prowled the streets, tearing up the cobble stone as he went, dismantling the road and vendors stands. The civilians screamed and covered their heads, fleeing. A few tried to fight, some who felt they had something to prove.

Rion shoved earth down their throats and left them to choke on it.

Warriors wearing the city’s sigil appeared in the road before him, all standing shoulder to shoulder, their magic and weapons out as they waited for his approach. The palace stood just behind them, sparkling in the summer sun. Heat rose up from the cobblestones, giving the large yard a hazy look.

It was the gemstone of the city. A beacon of hope for all who dwelled here and for those who hoped for a different life under a different monarch. It had stood for centuries as an impenetrable fortress.

Shame that it would all be nothing more than rubble come nightfall.

The guards charged and Rion danced around their movements. He didn’t bother with his knives, not when the warriors threw their own. He formed a wall of earth around his body and their blades sank deep. Rion exploded his magic and sent those blades right back to their owners. Some blocked the strike. Others didn’t.

They fell one at a time. He twisted around their bodies, breaking arms, crushing legs. When he finally drew his sword, heads hit the ground one after another. He wasn’t in the mood to play with them. Not today.

The road cleared and Rion continued prowling toward the door, hoping Foley sat just inside, screaming demands for his warriors to put a stop to Rion’s advances. He smirked at the thought. He wanted Foley afraid, if only to savor it before his end.

Rion stepped one foot inside the palace and the entire room collapsed around him. He caught it, of course, then threw the heavy pieces away from his body.

Inside, more guards stood at the ready. But they weren’t as confident as the first group. Their legs and bodies were shaking, their weapons trembling in their grasp.

“Where is he?”

They lunged and Rion cut them down. Blood coated the once pristine floor, the statues that depicted the Fairy Folk and the gods. Some Fae tried shifting into their animal forms, hoping to surprise him from behind.

Rion crushed their smaller bodies with little effort.

A broken wing sat to his left, poking up at an awkward angle. A shattered jaw sagged from a wolf to his left and the creature whined before shifting back into his Fae form. He gripped the loose bones, tears of pain spilling down his face.

Rion didn’t put him out of his misery, either. If he remained in the building, he’d be dead soon, anyway.

One male had fallen onto his backside and attempted to crawl away from Rion’s approach. Rion grabbed the male with his magic and yanked him forward. The male cried out and his teeth chattered.

“Where is he?” They all knew who he meant.

“I’m right here,” a familiar voice called. Rion’s gaze rose up to the second balcony. Several warriors flanked Foley, all wearing grim, angry expressions.

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