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“Scarlett,” Sorin murmured into her ear. “Stay with me, Love.”

“Do not call me that,”she hissed from between her teeth.

Sorin pulled her back against him, and she strained against his hold. “Feel me breathing, Scarlett. Match our breaths,” he was saying into her ear. “Your heart is beating too fast.” He had moved Eirwen into a gallop, and they were suddenly flying by Callan and his guards. “Eliza does not know,” he continued. “No one here knows, but the border is a few miles away, andyouneeded to know, Scarlett.”

“You have truly used me. In so many ways,” she whispered, her chest clenching.

“No, Scarlett. I have not used you,” he returned, pleading heavy in his tone. “I did not think it was possible. I still do not know how it is possible.”

They were past Eliza now, and Scarlett heard her call out after them, but Sorin did not slow.

“You weren’t content to simply break me?” she cried. “You had to wait until I was able to pick up a piece or two of myself and then shove me back down? Move me from one pretty cage to another? Use me to get your Fire Prince out from under your queen?”

“No, Love, no—”

“Do not call me that!” she screamed.

She was plummeting. She was free-falling into that darkness inside her soul. Her shadows swirled thickly around her, and she could feel frost on her fingertips. Eirwen reared back, and Sorin held her tight, keeping her in the saddle, but she was straining against him.

“Stop, Scarlett,” he said tightly. “Stop it. You are going to rip your wound wide open.”

“Sorin!” Eliza cried. “To your left!”

Sorin whirled Eirwen around, and there were three men with shirastone daggers in their hands, racing along beside them, nearly keeping pace with the horse.

No, not men.

Night Children.

“Take that rage and use it, Scarlett,” Sorin said directly into her ear, pressing a dagger into her hand.

Then he was pulling Eirwen to a stop, and he slid from the saddle, pulling his sword from his back. One of the Night Children threw his dagger at Sorin, and he blocked it with his sword before running straight at him and tackling him to the ground. He pulled a dagger from his boot and plunged it into the man’s chest, directly into his heart.

Eliza came up beside her then, and flames shot from her hand. She burned a Night Child to ash in mid-air as he leapt towards them.

“Eliza!” Sorin called out from where he was engaged with another Night Child. “She needs a sword.”

From a burst of flames, Eliza pulled a sword from what appeared to be thin air and tossed it to Scarlett. Shouting came from behind them, and Scarlett twisted in the saddle to see Callan, Finn, and Sloan being ambushed behind them.

Without thinking, Scarlett grabbed the reins and dug her heels into Eirwen’s side.

“Scarlett!” Eliza screamed after her, but she was already gone, racing towards the prince and his guards. She was still nearly fifteen feet away when she cocked her arm with the shirastone dagger and let it fly. It struck true, and a vampyre fell to the ground on impact. As Eirwen drew nearer, Scarlett was tucking her feet underneath her in the saddle, and when she met four vampyres surrounding Callan and his guards, she leapt, landing on one as her sword slid into his neck.

Scarlett and the vampyre rolled over each other a few feet until she landed on top of him. She got to her feet, yanking the sword out, and swung, severing his head. She whirled in time to catch another Night Child in the stomach as a black ashwood arrow whizzed past her,striking his chest. It missed the heart, but it knocked the vampyre to the ground on impact. Scarlett looked over her shoulder to see Finn nocking another arrow to his bow. He nodded to her as he pivoted, taking aim at another Night Child.

“Her side,” she heard one of the vampyres hiss. “She has an injury on her side. I saw her favoring it near the stream.”

So there had been someone there. Sorin was right. The stealth these men exhibited was second to none.

And completely explained Nuri’s skills.

Two more rushed at her, and she plunged her sword deep into the belly of one. He went down to his knees, but the other grabbed her hair and yanked her back against him. “I will be rewarded handsomely for your return to your master,” he hissed into her ear.

“I have no master,” she purred, and her booted foot cracked hard into his shin.

The vampyre swore, but his grip held. Scarlett dropped to a crouch, took a deep breath in, and sprang up, launching herself skyward. She flew into the air, flipping over the top of the man, and as she did, she grabbed his shoulders, yanking him backwards.

Surprise flared in his eyes as he was thrown to the ground, his grip on her hair releasing. Scarlett landed on her feet, and her sword came down into his throat. She twisted her sword hard, and his head was severed.