Page 68 of The Wolf Queen

"We need to turn back,” Tristan stammered, knowing he no longer needed to be quiet to survive. A massacre was taking place before us, and his little voice was lost amongst it. “This is witchcraft, brother!”

“This is the reality.”

When Bryson shouldered forward, staring into his brother’s eyes, the northern lords clustered closer and that’s when I saw the lay of the land. Two Granian factions were in play right now, and my mates and I were just along for the ride. The king stared steadily and Tristan and his cohort of courtiers shrank back as a result.

“I know what you want, brother,” Bryson said. “What you planned when I was absent from the capital. You were a busy little bee, currying favour with the southern lords, planning your eventual domination of both countries, imagining yourself emperor of all. But I was about my own business.”

One of the northern lords, a fellow with close cropped hair and a thick beard, pulled out his sword and the rest of the northerners followed suit.

“This is all a great shock for you. All of you from the south, that is.” Bryson looked at them all. “But not for us. I’ve seen towns on the border decimated. Children slain, women torn asunder, houses burned and places laid waste by animals just like them. So, if you want to claw your way onto the lion throne, you’ll need to know just what threat you’re facing.”

“We need to go back,” Tristan pleaded, grabbing at his brother’s hand. “I have no designs on the throne. I just wish to ensure our family’s legacy is preserved.” He looked beyond him to me. “You’ve fallen under the spell of a witch. I see that now. We—”

Bryson smirked then, some aspects of his time as Rake returning to his demeanour.

“Is that how you’ll sell it to those fools parading around Aramathia in their untarnished, unused gilt armour?” he asked Tristan, in a low voice. “That I’ve been ensorcelled and that you’ll simply be doing a public service by deposing me? Well, tell me this, brother, because if your answer is good enough, I’ll step down right now.” He threw an arm wide, pointing the conflagration burning beyond. “How will you deal with this, Tristan? Imagine you are king and Father’s crown is on your head. What will you do?”

Tristan took an involuntary step backwards and that in itself was answer enough: that when his back was against the wall, he’d try to keep retreating. The northern lords scoffed and then gave Tristan and his party their backs, before turning towards me.

“So you’re her,” the lord with the big beard said. “Lord Kendrick.” He offered me his hand and I shook it. “I thought for a moment you were my Missy. The girl is a hellcat, and a devil with a sword and a bow.”

There was much assumed knowledge in his words. I wanted to puzzle it out when I could have the chance. But now was not the time, for my heart was beating too hard, too fast in my chest, making me feel dizzy and wired all at the same time. Blood was still seeping from my nose, something I had to wipe away periodically. And I wanted to ensure I made the most of having the attention of all the men here now.

“Lord Kendrick?” I said. “My father spoke of you.”

The man chuckled. “Not good things, I assume?”

“No, which means I’m automatically going to think better of you,” I replied. “And Missy? I’d like to meet her before all of this ends.” His eyes narrowed slightly, assessing me, but he nodded sharply. “But now we must proceed, while the iron is hot, so to speak.”

All of the men stared out into the fire, into the chaos we had created and then nodded, but when I turned back to ask Pepin which path to take, she was gone again.

Of course she was.

These goddesses flitted in and out of my life, causing chaos or letting it fester, and we were left to clean up the mess. I gritted my teeth, then squared my jaw. We’d take the palace through our own reconnaissance, then.

We skirted the square,our way lit by the terrible light of the flames, and found the door to the servants’ passage that Dane had spoken of. We had to shift aside rubble and fallen timbers to open it, but once we did, we slipped inside the castle with no opposition. I was reminded of the morning when I went to find Aurora.

I’d gone to the castle to call her out, to offer her a challenge she understood, to stand up to her petty tyrannies. And I felt that same sense of purpose, of righting a wrong, as I entered the castle again. The difference was that Aurora’s actions felt so small, so trivial, now, compared to Callum’s, and I was a lot less sure of my ability to end him compared to the confidence I’d had in meeting her. In truth, he’d been the real threat all along. I’d allowed myself to become caught up in the distractions of court politics, but there would be no more of that. No matter what the gods or goddesses, kings or queens wanted, Ineededone thing above all else.

To kill Callum.

That was why I’d agreed to the mission. I knew Tristan had been trying to manipulate us all along, but there was merit to his suggestion. Kill the prince of the Reavers and it’d reduce every single one of those monsters down to the naked, weak men who appeared each time they were released from his control, whether by death or by the intervention of my power. In my mind’s eye, I saw the vision splendid of Snowmere—of all Strelae—freed of the Reavers, and the image burned just as bright as the fire in the square.

Travellingvia the corridors now would not give us the element of surprise. I’d ruined that when I set the square on fire. Instead it was just a means to avoid any unwanted encounters. We could hear the roar of Reavers, felt their steps thundering past us on the other side of the walls as we walked deeper into the palace.

“Here,” Dane whispered finally, pointing to a tiny peephole set in the door. I walked up to it, pressing my eye against the cool wood, and there he was.

He didn’t look like the Reavers’ prince right now. Callum sat on the edge of the bed that he’d had covered in black satin sheets, elbows on his knees, head hanging. I was gratified to see blood still seeping sluggishly from the wound on his side. My fingers twitched. Could I yank that open, force every drop of blood out of him, then…? My train of thought was cut off as his head jerked up, like a hound that’s caught scent of its prey. His eyes, glowing hellishly red, found mine. As he smiled slowly, a strange glint came into them.

“You came,” he told the wall, and I wondered at how he could tell I was there. “I knew you would. We were joined from the very beginning, unable to be kept apart, even in inception.” He got to his feet, revealing a bare, scarred chest. Clad only in a pair of leather trousers, he stalked forward. The marks on his bare torso looked like at some point he’d been bitten by his own Reavers, with white points of scar tissue raking his shoulder. “Sister, lover—” My lips twisted in revulsion as I mouthed that word, and my brows drew down in a deep frown. “Queen.” He held out a hand imperiously, his bearing declaring him every inch the prince, even as his maimed body seemed to belie that status. “Myqueen.”

“Darcy, this isn’t—” Dane whispered, urgently.

I cut him off, twisting the handle and stepping into the room. I watched Callum smile, his eyes glittering as I approached. There was no other way through this than to go forward. Pepin had said I needed to believe in my abilities, to draw on the power of the land if I was to extinguish Callum, so I was going to follow her advice.

“Don’t allow anyone to draw you into conversation in a fight,”Nordred had told me when I was a woman, grown.“It’s a delaying tactic, gives them more time to rally and you don’t want that.”

I didn’t. I raised my sword, the flames along its blade pulsing in time with my heartbeat as I approached him. My mates ringed around me, defining the field of combat upon which we would fight, and I lifted my sword into the guard position. I held the blade at an angle across my body, ready to strike out in my defence. Callum’s unnervingly proprietary smile turned to a smirk, and he dropped his outstretched hand.

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