Page 74 of The Panther's Price

“Kill her,” she said, almost gently. “And you will have everything. The throne. The bloodline. The dominion. She’s already cracked open. Her power would bleed straight into you.”

Lucien stared at her. Then at Evryn.

He didn’t speak. He just drew his blade and threw it down at her feet.

“No.”

Selyne’s expression didn’t change but her eyes blazed.

“I made you,” she said.

Lucien stepped between her and Evryn. “And I’ll unmake you.”

The shadows struck first.

Selyne raised her hand and the entire chamber buckled—stone groaning, air tearing. Lucien threw up his shield of shadow, catching the brunt of her magic, but it knocked him sideways, slamming him into a pillar with bone-jarring force.

He hit the ground hard, rolled, and launched back.

Evryn moved with him, fast, panther-smooth, her claws glinting with dusklight. But Selyne wasn’t fighting like a Queen.

She was fighting like a god.

Dark tendrils of ancient spellwork whipped out from her hands, catching Lucien across the chest. His vision flared white with pain as blood sprayed. He dropped to one knee, panting.

“Lucien!” Evryn cried, stepping toward him.

“Stay back!” he roared, pushing to his feet.

Selyne laughed.

“You think love makes you strong?” she spat. “It makes youvulnerable.”

She rushed forward, a dagger of voidlight in her hand.

Lucien met her in the middle.

Their blades clashed, magic shattering around them like thunder. She drove into him with brutal precision, her speed unnatural. He matched her blow for blow—but her power was older. Wired into the Keep itself.

Her dagger plunged into his side.

Lucien gasped.

Evryn screamed.

Selyne whispered, “You could’ve been king.”

And with a brutal twist, she tore the blade through his ribs.

Lucien collapsed and darkness took him.

THIRTY-FOUR

EVRYN

Lucien fell.

And the world fell with him.

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