Page 144 of A Reign of Roses
Despair—crushing and relentless—threatened at the thought.
Not yet, I told myself, focusing on the even, rhythmic stitching at my fingertips.Stay strong. For Dagan.
He’d killed Octavia. They were without a witch. No way to portal home, no spells to bolster their legions. That was worth something.
Kane stood elegantly from the table he’d been hunched across and motioned over his shoulder for me to join him.
“Rest,” I told the boy, standing. “And drink water.”
“Fuck that.” He frowned. Then, catching himself, added, “With all due respect, my queen, I have Fae bastards to kill.”
He stood before I could stop him, needle slick with his blood still in my grip.
While Kane and I had been suffering from Peridot to Lumera to find the blade and then to find each other, I’d forgotten that at some point Eardley or Griffin must’ve informed thousands of men that a fight for their kingdom meant not only defeating Amber and Garnet but Fae soldiers, too. They’d had to explain to them that the brutal, mythic creatures that sketched our childhood nightmares were not only real but standing at the other side of the front lines.
The freckled kid that stood before me, hoisting on menacing dark leather armor with a still-bleeding shoulder, couldn’t have been more than sixteen. I watched as he threaded his last strap with a wince and bounded for his fellow men.
Is this what Dagan died for?
For hundreds of young boys, if not thousands, to rush to their deaths?
Against a Fae king thatcould notbe beaten without the Blade of the Sun? Which we still didn’t have?
“We’ll need to approach from the North Gate,” Kane was saying to the group when I neared.
“I want to see,” I said, before I’d even really thought the words.
Kane’s and Griffin’s gazes, and about seven other sets of eyes, fell to me.
“See what?” Kane asked.
“The soldiers. Our position.” I made for the doors of the great hall, and the tens of guards standing menacingly before it.
“No,” Kane said, not harshly, but with that cold, unwaveringcommand. “You can’t go out there.” Then, his jaw working, “My study.”
Exiting the great hall through the back, I realized I’d never heard Shadowhold so silent.
The castle wasn’t known for its noisiness, but now that there was none, I ached for the fluttering pages of books and idle suppertime chatter. The rowdy, masculine noises from the barracks and pleasant footsteps as nobles and children shuffled up and down the sprawling stairs and across the cozy, candlelit halls.
And it wasfrigid.
Despite everything, Shadowhold was always warm. Either due to breezy summer wind or roaring winter fireplaces—the keep was nothing if not filled with life. A dark, cold shell that served to protect a warm, beating heart. The mirror image of its king.
If I lived to survive this war, I’d never scrub the image of Shadowhold like this from my mind.
And all I could hope as we climbed the narrow stairs was that Iwouldn’t.
Best-case scenario was that I’d end Lazarus, and thus myself. Otherwise it would mean we’d failed. Lazarus would take Evendell, starting with Shadowhold.
Or, it would mean Kane had taken my place. And as my eyes fell to his face, features etched in furious stone, and his hand, despite it all, clasped tightly around mine as we scaled toward his study, I couldn’t imagine anything more awful than for him to lose his life protecting me.
Rather than entering Kane’s study through our sleeping quarters, we circled around the back entrance and Kane uttered the spelled passcode, moving that glittering display case of treasures aside and allowing us to enter.
“Mari,” I breathed, finding her and Briar hunched over a grimoire on the leather couch at the center of the room. “Bleeding Stones.”
When she stood, her face was even paler than usual. Her lovely blue dress was ripped and spotted with blood. “Tell me…” Tears gathered in her bloodshot eyes. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
I swallowed hard, my chest threatening to cave in once more. “I—I can’t.”
