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“No.” Kieran’s grip tightened once more, and then he let go. “It doesn’t.”

Anticipation tightened my muscles as the Royal Knights sensed us seconds before we left the darkness and neared the torch-lit gates.

Reaver launched out of the night, a blur of crimson and sun as he streaked across the fire-lit ground. He grabbed the closest knight…

I quickly learned exactly how he’d gotten so bloody, and I sort of wished I hadn’t.

He grabbed the front of the knight’s gaiter, yanking it down as he opened his mouth—his wide and gaping mouth full of teeth that no longer remotely resembled a mortal’s. His head snapped down, and he tore into the knight’s throat—into tissue and muscle. Tore straight through bone. Blood geysered as Reaver bit through the knight’s godsdamn spine. My mouth wanted to drop open, except I might’ve vomited if I had allowed it.

“Remind me to stop antagonizing him,” Kieran murmured.

“Uh-huh.”

Reaver tossed the knight aside and then sprang into the air, landing several feet ahead in a crouch as one of the knights stalked forward, face free of cloth and smirking. The scent of stale lilacs rose.

“Revenant,” I warned.

“Fun times are over,” the Revenant said, lifting a heavy broadsword.

“Wrong.” Reaver rose. “Fun times have just begun.” He exhaled.

I stumbled to the side, bumping into Kieran as a powerful stream of silver flames poured out of Reaver’s mouth. It hit the Revenant, and then he turned, striking two knights. They went up in flames. Screaming, they flailed about, managing to catch another knight on fire in the process.

Laughing, Reaver turned and caught a knight’s arm before he could make use of his sword. The draken twisted sharply, cracking bone. The knight’s howl of pain stopped abruptly as Reaver went for his throat.

He yanked his head back and turned to us, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “Are you two just going to stand there?”

“Maybe,” Kieran murmured as Reaver dropped the knight.

I came out of whatever stunned stupor I was in as several knights charged us. Everything was happening so fast, there was no time to determine who was and wasn’t a Revenant. I shot forward, grasping a knight’s sword arm. Twisting hard, I spun around, using his weight and momentum against him. The cloak whipped around my legs as I turned and flipped the knight onto his back.

Kieran was there suddenly, bringing a dagger down on the fallen knight’s arm, piercing straight through. Dipping down, I picked up the fallen bloodstone sword. Sheathing my dagger, I rose as a knight swung his sword straight for my head.

I met the blow, the impact jarring. The knight’s black cloth gaiter muffled his growl as I kicked out, catching him low—between the legs. He howled, losing his balance. I swung, bringing the sword across his throat. Blood sprayed my cheeks as Kieran let out a grunt of pain. Heart lurching, I whirled around.

A knight had pierced Kieran’s shoulder with his sword. He caught the knight’s arm, stopping him from thrusting the blade any deeper. I started toward them—

A stream of silvery flames rippled through the air, slamming into the knight. The man screamed, dropping the sword as he staggered away, swept up in the unnatural fire.

“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching for Kieran.

He caught my hand. “I’m fine. Barely a flesh wound.”

I opened my senses to him, feeling the hot, stinging pain. It may be just a small wound, but it was hurting him. “I can heal it—”

“Later,” he insisted. “We need to find Cas. That’s the only thing that matters.” He cocked his head toward Reaver. “Thanks, man.”

“Whatever,” the draken replied, stalking forward. “I don’t want the Liessa to be upset.”

The tension around Kieran’s mouth loosened into a half-grin as he followed the draken, his hand still wrapped firmly around mine.

“Casteel isn’t the only one that matters,” I told him as we hurried along under the canopy of jacaranda trees. “So do you, Kieran.”

The heavily blossomed branches and the mist were too thick for the moonlight to penetrate, but I felt his stare as I channeled energy into him. As the three of us passed the stately manors that had gone completely dark and quiet as tombs, I healed his wound. Only when I could no longer feel his pain did I pull my hand free. He held on for a moment and then let go.

We came upon the final interior wall and gate, the section guarded by Rise Guards. Only half a dozen were on the ground as most traveled the battlements on the outer Rise surrounding the city.

An arrow zinged through the mist, fired from ground level. Reaver’s hand snapped out, catching the shaft of the projectile. He turned his head toward the guards, his blue eyes luminous as his pupils became thin, black slits.

“Seriously?” Reaver held the arrow before him and blew out a breath—a smoky breath that sparked and then quickly ignited. A narrow trail of silver flames parted the mist, obliterating the projectile. “Who’s next?”