Page 31

Deep in enemy territory, blinding sunlight burning my eyes. Blood pouring out of my many wounds. Surrounded on all sides. My magic swarms out of me, devouring the enemy and permanently dragging the night into what was previously Day territory.

I take another drink of my ale. “I killed the right people.”

She takes in my expression. “So, you’ve met the king?” she asks.

I stare at my stein. “He was away the night I was medaled.” At least, that’s what his right hand had said when he, and not the king, presented me with the bronze cuff. More likely than not, Galleghar was either sleeping in with his harem or off killing innocents. It’s anyone’s guess which he enjoys more.

My hand tightens around my mug at the memory. I’d been so ready to end him. How often does any soldier get that close?

The woman leans back in her seat. “Huh.” She stares at her branded skin, “I saw him once.” Her eyes flick to me. “He looked an awful lot like you in fact.”

Trust a human to notice.

It’s all I can do to keep my body loose and languid. “Then he must’ve been a handsome devil.”

She nods slowly, her eyes going distant. “He was. But there was something cruel about him. Something around his eyes and his mouth.” She brings her hand up to her jaw, distractedly running her fingers along the edge of it. “You could tell he was a man who liked killing.” She blinks, returning to the present. “Not like you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Her eyes are far too shrewd. “I’ve met enough soldiers to figure out which ones that like the carnage and which ones simply bear it—or am I wrong about you?”

She isn’t, and the fact that a mortal can read me this well has me shaken. Either I have far more work to do on controlling my features, or she’s even sharper than I’ve given her credit for.

Outside the dining hall, the music and laughter quiet. I turn away from the human woman, cocking my head to better listen. It only takes seconds for the shouts to start up.

My chair scrapes as I stand, unsheathing my sword.

“What’s going on?” the human woman asks.

Around me, the other soldiers in the dining hall are looking about, sensing something in the air. I feed a little of my magic to the darkness.

… enemy …

… amongst you …

Shit.

“Ambush!” someone outside yells a second later.

Without a backwards glance, I storm out of the dining hall. Night soldiers are scrambling around me, grabbing for their weapons. Moving like a wave amongst them are fairies in golden uniforms.

Day soldiers.

I don’t have time to grab my armor. All I have is the sword in my hand.

I leap into the air and join the fray, my sword arm swinging as I begin to carve into the enemy. They’re everywhere, around us and above us, setting fire to tents and cutting down the unsuspecting Night soldiers.

“Desmond!” Malaki’s voice comes from somewhere up and to my left.

It’s the sound of my true name that draws my attention to him.

I glance towards Malaki just in time to stare at the sun. As I look at it, it dims just enough for me to see the bright gold of a ranking Day soldier’s uniform. He’s coming at me from above, his weapon already slashing down at me.

There isn’t enough time to block the attack. If I do nothing, I’m a dead man. There will be no revenge, no mate, no tomorrow. There will only be what comes next, after fairies die.

Just as I’m about to melt into darkness, a shadow knocks me out of the way.

My wings fold up in surprise, and I tumble through the sky. It takes several seconds to right myself, and when I do, I see something turns my blood cold. Poised where I was moments before is Malaki.