Page 91 of Where Darkness Falls

“Well,” she snaps at me. “Are you coming, High General?” Her tight features are laced with fury in every crevice, a contrast to how she’d first looked at me moments ago.

I’ll never forget the moment her eyes connected with mine, such light within them…

Until I extinguished it with my cruel words.

I want to reach out, grab her hand and apologize because it’s not how I truly feel.

But what if Domhnall is lurking in the shadows? What if he heard me?

It’s too risky.

So, I remind myself to remain distant from the only ray of sunlight in the ever present abyss of my life.

I clear my throat, walking slowly out of the chambers.

Maeva taps her foot impatiently.

Within my helmet, my mouth quirks up.

So impatient, my Rosey.

I’m the High General. I wouldn’t jump at the demand of any other woman, so I draw this out at an agonizing pace. Maeva huffs in annoyance, which only encourages me to move at a snail’s pace.

Finally, I take my place at the front of the group.

“Onward,” I command.

Then, we’re walking in perfect tandem.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The walk is silent except for the howling spirits, which make Maeva jump and curse under her breath. Riordan disguises a laugh as a cough, while Laisren whispers reassurances to her. She gasps as we pass by thedemented paintings of evil creatures from the Abyss—they move within their frames as if they were living. I’m certain she’s never seen anything like it in Aurelius.

I vaguely sense Maeva’s apprehension behind me. However, I can hear it in the way she steps along the long halls.

I can only imagine she’s nervous, especially being in a palace haunted by all manners of creatures and spirits.

“So, what should I expect from the queen?” she asks, breaking the silence.

“If you’re smart, you won’t make any off-handed remarks. She’s temperamental,” I say.

“In other words, she’s crazier than an Eitcham in an eating frenzy,” Riordan whispers.

“What happens when she’s temperamental?” she asks, unease settling in her tone.

“You don’t want to find out,” I reply.

The stairs leading up to the throne room entrance are finally in view, a heaviness filling my heart with dread with every step I take. Maeva breathes heavily as she ascends the elongated marble stairs. Laisren offers her his arm to lean on for support, which she enthusiastically takes. Her face is flushed and paler than I’ve ever seen as she sways into my second commander.

I realize then that I hate seeing her dainty hand wrapped around his bicep.

I release a breath, which she mistakes for impatience rather than the jealousy coursing through me. A low, animalistic growl escapes her lips as she glares daggers at me.

“Any day now,” I call out, just in case Domhnall is nearby.

She rolls her eyes, picking up her pace to reach the top. When she arrives, her grip on Laisren tightens as she takes in the enormous arches of the throne room doors. They tower above us with pointed peaks that taper down into a wider base, with large brass handles that meet in the middle. She observes the two sentries that also watch her.

I should punish them for even glancing in her direction.