Page 100 of Stolen
Dauphiné’s lip curls, but she doesn’t speak.
She simply turns her back and stalks to the far end of the solar, spine rigid with rage.
Shade lets out a breath she’s clearly been holding.
“Lady Jules?”
“I’m fine,” I say, though my heart is hammering.
“Let her sulk. She can enjoy her new accommodations and eat the food our people work hard to prepare. But she’s not going anywhere near Alaric’s chambers.”
Shade gives me a look that is half awe, half terror. “I’ll see to it, Lady Jules.”
I nod, but I don’t move right away.
My eyes linger on the shattered pot, on the beautiful flower that now lies crumpled on the floor.
A small gift, broken by someone who couldn’t stand to see beauty that wasn’t hers.
I crouch, brushing the dirt from the petals, and set it gently on a nearby table.
“Send someone to see if it can be saved,” I murmur.
Because I know how it feels to be uprooted.
And I sure as hell know how to survive it.
Then I turn on my heel and walk out.
A thousand emotions bat at me, but I don’t care to indulge in them right now.
I want Alaric to come back. To tell me that woman has no rights to him. To explain wholly what I am to him.
But right now, I have no choice but to go on. And no matter how long he is gone, this is still my place.
And I will protect it.
Until he tells me otherwise.
Chapter22
Alaric
The Ruinsof the First Battle
The battlefield reeks of ash and blood.
The air pulses with dying magic as we drive the last of the SoulTakers into the dust.
My blade gleams red under the dying sun, my wings tucked as I shift back to skin and stalk toward the center of the chaos.
Behind me, Kael roars, his trident splitting the skull of a retreating monster.
Dagan is covered in ichor, his hammer slick with ruin.
Thorne, silent and deadly, turns a howling Demon to cinders with a flick of his wrist, his power is dark and biting like shadow made fire.
We’ve won.
