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And it was to that terrible song that the battle for Lara had begun.

Behind me, Adrian gave commands, and our army raced forward. With them at my back, I circled and made a running jump over the fire just as hundreds of arrows rained down on us. One nicked me in the shoulder, but I landed with no trouble and dashed toward the infantry. Many of them had been plowed down by my aufhockers, and I could hear them in the forest beyond, tearing into flesh and mauling Alaric’s army.

Or at least what I hoped was mostly Alaric’s army. I had no idea how many of my people had joined him. I wondered how many regretted their decision already.

A line of men made their way toward me, swords drawn and shields up. I snarled at them and pounced, crushing two under my weight, swiping my claws at one, and sinking my teeth into another. When I looked up, one lone soldier stared back at me, eyes wide, shaking with fear.

He stumbled and then turned to run, but he was skewered by the blade of an approaching soldier.

“Deserter,” he spat as he pushed him away, marching toward me.

I lowered, preparing to launch, but before the man could even lift his blade, he halted suddenly, and his head slid off the column of his neck. The blood from the blow that decapitated him splattered across my face, and when the rest of him crashed to the ground, Adrian was standing in his place.

“Take the castle,” he ordered.

I held his gaze a moment longer, noting the fierce look in his eyes, hoping that what I saw was not the white of his irises glowing.

“Go!”

I bolted into the woods I knew so well, only to face the horror they had become—a sea of blood and gore. My aufhockers were locked in battle with vampires and mortals alike. There were dead in the trees and dead on the ground, and still arrows rained down on me. I tried my best to dodge them, but when one lodged in my shoulder, I faltered.

Then another came, and while I howled my pain, I kept running, my heart racing and my fear all-consuming. Then I heard the beat of hooves behind me.

“Isolde!” a familiar voice called. A wave of relief washed over me, and I returned to my human form at the sound of Killian’s voice. I stumbled and fell, the arrows still protruding from my back.

“Stay still,” he said, but I jerked when he pulled each arrow free, my growl of pain coming out between my teeth.

“By the goddess,” he whispered, and I knew he was witnessing my wounds heal.

“She is not welcome,” I said as I rose to my feet and stumbled toward his horse. “We have to get to the castle.”

I mounted Killian’s horse and he followed behind me.

There came a point when we left the thick of the battle behind, and when we broke through the wood and I caught sight of High City, tears pricked my eyes.

Home.

I could not help thinking it, though right now it was possible everyone within those walls saw me as the enemy. But as quickly as my heart rose at the thought of claiming my throne, it fell at the sight of hundreds of soldiers lining the walls of High City.

Killian did not lessen the speed of his horse as he made his way to the closest gate.

I expected a fight, to be slain the moment we were spotted. That would have been more reasonable than what happened. We were allowed into an open gate—a trap, likely.

“Killian,” I warned.

“I am aware,” he said tightly. “Just…be prepared to show off some of your new skills. Things aren’t likely to go well.”

Once we were through the gates, we were surrounded by soldiers with swords and arrows, both from the ground and from above.

“This is quite a welcome,” I said.

“Queen Isolde,” said a voice, and my gaze shifted to a guard I recognized—Nicolae. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“You know, the army waiting for me at the border gave me the impression that you might be.”

Nicolae smirked. “Still so arrogant in the face of your fall from power.”

“A little presumptuous, as always, Nicolae,” I said.