Page 24

Alora rounded the corner of a graystoned building, sliding to a stop when met by blistering-hot torches illuminating her face. She gasped in time for ten stone-faced soldiers to turn, their expressions shifting to wanton delight when they surveyed who they had discovered straying.

There was nowhere to go.

Behind her, the marching echoed along the alley. She had only just escaped across a small back street when soldiers flooded it mere seconds behind her evasion. Forward or back, both ended in the same circumstance—bound and carted off to Galdheir.

So, this was it. Alora’s heart ached. The moment she had been running from her entire life had arrived.

Silence fell, and she wasn’t entirely sure they couldn’t hear her racing heartbeat. One bearing a patch on his purple cloak, signifying an honored rank, stalked between the crowd, and she stumbled a step back.

“Well,” the commander snickered. “What do we have here? A pretty female to keep us company tonight?”

Alora found the alley cold and menacing as they circled her. Their faces, without any doubt, looming with every thought and desire they possessed.

How could she have let this happen? If she would have only listened to Kaine?—

A warm grip sent rippling pain tearing through her arm, pulsing from her bruised wrist. From behind, a male pinned her arms against the sides of her body. Caging her.

Reverberating a sinister hum against her back, the stench of his sweat cocooned her as he stole a greedy sniff. “Mmm, shesmells of ale and sweet honey.” Licking the side of her face, he darkly chuckled and said, “Tastes like it too.”

Two soldiers closed in, scraping calloused fingers along her arms and fisting strands of her hair for their own amusement.

“Get your damn hands off me!” She struggled.

Another, adorned in the same rank patch, gripped the front of her navy tunic. “Let’s see what’s in there.”

“No!” The way they held her betrayed them. Alora lifted her legs off the ground, hovering from the male’s hold. With great force, she aimed her boots perfectly at the groin of the soldier.

A hit.

His knees pounded into the dirt, clenching himself and grimacing in pleasing pain from the impact.

But it wasn’t enough.

He stood, still clenching himself. “You little beast.” The sting of his backhand convulsed across her face. Without a moment to compose herself, he continued his original intention. Alora’s tunic in hand, he tore it open, down her shoulder, as the eight others advanced inward. “I’m going to enjoy—what’s this?”

They saw it.

Her death mark.

Something pricked her skin. Her gaze fell to the thin needle, stabbed in the center of her mark. And where warmth once boiled through her veins, a chilling stream of ice now cascaded.

Perhaps if she had perfected her powers. Perhaps if she hadn’t been so panicked, the thought would have occurred to her to have used her fire. But now … it was too late.

The commander rubbed his fingers over the bubbling puncture of blood, smearing a small amount over the magical ink. But Alora thrashed enough to break from his touch.

It only provoked him to grab her chin, wrenching her face to the side before his body pressed against hers. “Looks like we’regetting lucky tonight. The High Prince can take her when we’re done.”

That kernel of hope, the one that drove her through the city, snuffed out. Her throat constricted as she tried to scream. But she couldn’t form any sort of sound. She had fought against Kaine for so many years, and now she would be taken in every sense of the word, only to find her inevitable doom at the High King’s hand.

Alora found the night sky, the comforting darkness. Tears streamed down her face, accepting her fate.

She tried. One last time.

Please, someone, help me…

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