Page 106

She couldn’t hear anything in the chamber beyond. I tilted my head at her in question.

“The only way to find out, is to open the door,” she whispered, despite the sound insulation the thick rock provided.

I adjusted my grip on Stormslayer. Setting my jaw, I nodded.

As soon as Annelise pressed against the door and the click of it opening could be heard echoing through the chamber, I rushed forward to slip through the narrow opening. Tess followed—Puck close on her heels as well as the rest of our group as we poured through the entryway.

I skidded to a stop on the familiar black-and-white marble checkered floor. That floor my blood had been spilled onso manytimes before.

The throne room was empty.

I turned back, my brow furrowed at Annelise as she surveyed the room, her sword held out before her. She approached the dais, searching for any marks that a spell had been cast, that maybe Donika was cloaking herself. Annelise turned back to me, her head moving back and forth in a finite shake.

Donika wasn’t here.

Her throne sat atop the dais, unoccupied.

Unprotected.

The red velvet that adorned the seat was brighter than I had ever seen it. The marble sparkled as if it had been freshly scrubbed.

Confusion swarmed my thoughts as I turned. There was nowhere for her to hide. The room was long and narrow, windows with thin red drapes adorning them lining the walls. The throne and the dais were the only furniture in the room.

“Where is she?” I muttered.

Right as Annelise opened her mouth to reply to me, the throne room doors burst open. I was expecting Donika herself—a devilish grin across her lips—but the person who sauntered in was not the one that I expected.

He held his sword out before him, a breastplate signifying the queen’s army strapped to his chest. A cloak was tied around his neck, billowing out behind him as he casually strolled in.

When my gaze traveled to his eyes, they were endless black.

He came to a stop halfway across the room from where I stood.

He set his jaw—feet apart—ready for battle.

I couldn’t discern the amount of soldiers that filed in behind him, my only thought was that I was relieved he was the only Noctani among them. As they continued to fill the throne room a desperation settled deep in my core. I pulled on my magic, allowing it to travel to my fingertips, ready for when I called upon it.

Because I would need it.

It was no stranger who led Donika’s forces towards us as we backed towards the dais… but one I was quite familiar with.

An expert swordsman.

One I had thought was dead.

Warrick didn’t smile, he didn’t even flinch as he set his shoulders, his expression determined.

Between one blink and the next, he moved.

Warrick’s sword clashed with Puck’s as he jumped in front of me, protecting me. I quickly slid Stormslayer back into the sheath at my thigh in favor of Nik’s sword. I pulled it from the scabbard at my back just in time to clash with the blade of a Nightshade soldier from Donika’s army. I grunted against the impact; the vibration traveling up my arms, my teeth clenching.

Donika had kept back more soldiers than we had projected, and as I had suspected… it was a trap. She wanted us to breach the castle walls. Shewantedus to infiltrate the throne room. She had a force of Nightshade soldiers waiting for us.

There weren’t so many that we couldn’t defeat them, but there were certainly enough to keep us busy and to keep my fear singing in my blood. We needed to dispatch these soldiers and find Donika. Would she be in her personal chambers? Hiding like the coward she was?

I spun out of the way as the soldier brought his sword down towards me. It hit the marble floor with a spark; the soldier losing his balance and tipping forward. He hadn’t expected me to be so fast. I took advantage of his slip and brought my sword up, swinging it towards the back of his head where the skin was exposed between his helmet and breastplate.

It lodged into his neck with a sickening thud and he fell to his knees. Blood spurted over me, coating my blade. I hadn’t swung it with enough force to decapitate him entirely. Nik’s sword was heavy, and I hadn’t trained enough using it. I internally cursed myself as I pressed my foot against his shoulder, pulling the blade free. I swung once more, finishing the job. His head rolled to the marble floor, eyes fixed on the ceiling, unseeing.