Page 436 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Chapter 41

"This is not Prislav," Boris said, surveying the city walls. "I have never seen this city before."

Master Zoticus, as Rossa's father had insisted he was called, shrugged. "You have been away some time, Your Highness. The new king felt a new capital would be best, and he now rules from here in Buda. While we are here, you must allow me to show you your likeness in the cathedral. Beautiful work, though you will have to tell me if it does your brother David justice."

Boris closed his eyes. David. How long had it been since he'd thought of him? David deserved justice as much as Vica and Lida, and still Boris had not delivered it. His family deserved better. He clenched his fingers around the hilt of the sword he'd borrowed from the castle armoury. Lady Sara had said the blade had belonged to one of her ancestors who'd gone on a holy crusade to free the Holy Land, and that the man's spirit would surely be happy to see it in his hand.

In truth, it felt foreign to hold a blade again, when his claws had been his weapon of choice for so long. The bear roared within him, like a creature with its own mind, eager to be unleashed on Sviatopolk.

Rossa and her father led the way to the throne room, but when they reached the doors, Zoticus stopped to speak to the herald, while Boris did not stop. He would no longer endure a usurper on his father's throne.

"Prince Boris of Rostov, with Lord Zoticus and his daughter, Lady Rossa," the herald announced.

The people parted, bowing as they cleared the way for Boris. He saw fear in their eyes, and so they should fear him. They'd supported a false king, a murderer, who did not deserve the throne.

He did not stop until he reached the foot of the dais where the king sat. Guards stood on either side of him, hands on their spears in readiness to defend the king, but Boris would not let them stop him. He'd broken larger branches than those spears with a single swipe of his paw.

He planted his feet, widening his stance, knowing the moment he beheld his brother's face, rage would take over and he would become a bear again, but this time, he was ready for it. He prayed that Zoticus would shield Rossa's eyes from the carnage.

Only then did he raise his eyes to meet the king's.

"You're not Sviatopolk!" Boris blurted out.

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