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They had a short, silent conversation.

“Good timing,” Lorian said finally.

Conreth gave a sharp nod, something that might have been disappointment in his eyes.

A few of his people cut away from the rest of the army, making their way toward us. My heart thudded a joyful beat. “The wardens,” I breathed.

“All but Verdion,” Conreth confirmed. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard—”

“No,” Lorian bit out. “No word from Rythos.”

Conreth’s canted his head, and his eyes turned flat. He was watching someone closely.

Sylvielle.

The fae king’s gaze flicked to Regner’s army. But it wasn’t the soldiers he was watching. No, his gaze lingered on the terrovians.

I turned to Lorian. But he was watching his brother. And from the look in his eyes, he’d come to some conclusion.

“Sylvielle,” Lorian purred, and I almost shivered at the sharp edge in his voice, the cruel, cold smile he gave her.

She was wearing dark-green armor that looked like snake scales, her hair braided back into a crown that circled her head as she leaned on the wooden barricade. Our people were extending it as fast as they could. One of the hybrids gave her an impatient look as he attempted to hammer a piece of wood behind her.

Sylvielle’s eyes lit up. “Yes?”

“Do me a favor and walk toward our archers.”

She pouted. “Why?”

“Because I asked you to.”

Anyone who truly knew Lorian would have heard the death that laced his tone. But Sylvielle clearly only heard the caress. She sent me one victorious look beneath her lashes and turned, walking toward them.

“What am I missing?” I demanded, my voice low.

“Shh,” Lorian said. “Watch.”

Sylvielle moved closer, every step sinuous, her body created to draw the male gaze. I ground my teeth, glancing at Lorian and Conreth. But they weren’t watching her.

No, they were watching the terrovians once more.

And as soon as Sylvielle got within range, every terrovian on the battlefield seemed to go still.

Looking at her.

Turning back to us, Sylvielle swept her gaze over Conreth and Lorian, sending a poisonous smirk my way. When she found them looking beyond her, she glanced over her shoulder.

Her eyes were wide with horror when she turned back to us.

“Your Majesty,” she mouthed, running toward us.

Conreth let out a growl like a wounded animal. Behind him, Romydan, Thorn, and Caliar echoed him.

A warden. One of their own. This was proof. Proof that she had given fae creatures to Regner. Proof that those creatures had a deep connection to her.

“Please!” she shrieked.

Conreth raised his hand. His power sliced into her, and she shattered into a million pieces.