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She sat atop her mare at the head of the army, listening as Esyllt and Kipp gave final instructions.

‘Find the leaders within and slaughter them,’ Esyllt said, unsheathing his own sword. ‘If we cut off the head of the snake, we may be able to avoid mass losses on our end.’

Thea scanned the company for her sisters, finding Anya at Dratos’ side, staring out onto the battlefield as though she were about to start the charge herself. Wren was further back, and Thea knew she would be in the second wave, aiming straight for that patch of land earmarked by Kipp for flooding. There was no sign of Audra, or Farissa, but Thea imagined they were hanging back to oversee the deployment of Wren’s alchemical weapons.

Drue and Adrienne arrived, both clad in black armour, riding straight to the frontlines. They grinned at one another.

‘Luck be with you, sister,’ Adrienne said, offering a hand.

Drue shook it, her expression fierce. ‘Not if he’s been with you first.’

They laughed roughly, as though they’d done this a thousand times before, and went to take their places in the ranks. Thea watched them in awe, pride blooming. She was glad to be fighting alongside them, honoured. She wished she’d told them that.

But there was no time left for sentiment. Talemir rode his Tverrian stallion to the front of the army and turned to look upon them, unsheathing his twin blades and addressing them all.

‘I won’t tell you that glory awaits us beyond this field,’ he called, pointing one of his swords towards Artos’ forces marching on the horizon, the sky already stained blood-red in their wake. ‘I won’t tell you that we will overwhelm the enemy with our strength, and certainly not with our numbers. But what I will tell you is this: that bastard’s forces aren’t as unified as they appear. They are made up of monsters and beasts, with no rhyme nor reason to their actions, no loyalty to one another, or to him.’

Talemir surveyed their ranks, his shadows materialising around him, great wings spearing from his back and spreading impressively behind him.

‘We may be divided in our own histories and prejudices, but one thing unites us. We stand against tyranny. We stand against the poison and curses swallowing our world. We will break their lines. We will shatter them from within. We’ve been forced into hiding, persecuted, kept down for far too long. This is our time to rise. So rise!’

A near-deafening roar sounded from their forces, along with the song of steel as it was unsheathed from scabbards all around.

Thea leant over in her saddle to whisper to Wilder. ‘I see where you got your battle speech inspiration from.’

‘Mine are better,’ Wilder quipped with a wink.

‘I don’t know,’ Thea teased, forcing lightness into her tone. ‘Tal’s efforts seem quite stirring…’

Wilder raised a brow. ‘Maybe you’ll make a speech of your own one day, Princess.’

‘Here’s hoping this is the last of our battles for a long while.’

‘Here’s hoping,’ he agreed.

They could hear the march of Artos’ army clearly now, along with the war drums beating in the near distance, a rhythm that seemed to match the pounding in Thea’s chest. She studied the Warsword beside her: the straight set of his broad shoulders, the sharp line of his jaw, the molten silver of his eyes that promised violence and bloodshed. The only telltale sign of nerves was the way he kept adjusting his grip on his reins. He followed her gaze and smiled softly, acknowledging that only someone who knew him deeply, intimately, would notice such a thing.

‘Will you hold it against me if I tell you I love you?’ he said quietly, so only she could hear.

Her breath caught in her throat and she shook her head. ‘Never. We will never hold back saying that ever again.’

‘Good,’ Wilder replied. ‘Because I love you, so deeply, Thea. And if I tell you I love you a thousand times a day for the rest of our lives, it will not have been enough.’

Thea blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. ‘I love you, too.’

The blast of an Aveum battle horn filled the air. The two Warswords tore their gazes from one another and looked to the head of the army once more.

‘The time has come,’ Talemir shouted, raising his swords above his head, the blades glinting in the dawn’s rays. ‘In the past, it has been the duty of Warswords to slay the monsters of the midrealms. But now, in the face of evil and darkening days, it is up to all of us. Let’s break their lines. Let’s shatter them from within. Let’s slay some fucking monsters.’ His stallion reared up as he urged the horse to face the incoming forces. ‘For the midrealms!’ His voice projected to the far corners of their ranks. ‘Charge!’

Thea raised her own Naarvian steel, a warrior cry leaving her lips as she leant forward in the saddle and charged.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

WILDER

There may have been no glory awaiting them on the battlefield, but Wilder charged headlong into the heart of the monstrous horde, with the love of his life riding at his side and uncontainable pride swelling in his chest.

Together, they were a force to be reckoned with, regardless of the odds.