Page 92 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

“Where are they going?” Naia asked, watching as Temil disappeared into the tree line beyond the ruined port.

“They’ll hunt in the forests on the outskirts of Thubia while we conduct our inspection,” Zander replied, adjusting the straps on his gloves. “We may have to spend the night here if the weather doesn’t let up.”

“Where will we stay?” I asked.

“In the castle, of course. We are requested riders. Our presence here is a privilege.”

Jax grunted. “Wow. I wonder if you could sound more pompous or stuck up.”

I smirked. “Trust me, he could.”

Riven snorted, and the others chuckled. But Zander, ever the royal, just motioned for us to follow him without reacting.

We made our way off the beach, trudging past the scattered remains of ships that had once been docked here. Some hulls had been split in half, the skeletal remains of their masts jutting out at unnatural angles. The scent of burned wood mixed with the briny sea breeze, and the deeper we moved into the port, the clearer the devastation became.

The entire port was a wreck. Blackened beams jutted from collapsed buildings, their once-sturdy foundations reduced to piles of soot-streaked rubble. Rainwater dripped from broken rooftops, collecting in ashen puddles between shattered cobblestones. The marketplace, which should have been bustling with merchants and fishermen, was eerily silent—nothing left but the charred remains of stalls and the occasional scorched skeleton of a wagon.

Zander knelt near a pile of burned debris, picking up a charred piece of wood. Rain dripped from his chin as he studied it, rubbing the surface between his fingers.

“This wasn’t rebels,” he muttered.

I frowned. “How do you know?”

Zander turned the blackened wood over in his palm before tossing it aside. “Dragon fire leaves a certain residue. This isn’t a normal fire.”

Something heavy settled in my gut. “What are you saying?”

Zander’s jaw tightened. His lavender eyes flickered with something sharp, something dangerous.

“This was a dragon attack.”

I heard the gasp from Cordelle or the way Naia shifted uneasily beside me.

Because the words had barely left Zander’s mouth before the realization sank in.

I swallowed hard. “That means…” My voice was hardly above a whisper.

Zander finished the thought for me.

“This was a Blood Fae.”

Dark hooded figures slithered out from the wreckage, moving like shadows given form. They were silent at first, the rain slicking off their cloaks, their faces hidden beneath the black cloth.

“Are they merchants?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as one moved closer.

Then I saw it.

A glimmer of deep-crimson under the hood. A pair of glowing, inhuman eyes.

“Blood Fae!” Zander’s voice was like a whip cracking through the night.

The figures lunged.

Weapons were drawn in an instant. Only Jax and Zander carried short swords—the rest of us had daggers, but there was no time to wish for better steel. I pulled both of mine free, adjusting my grip as the first fae came at me.

Chaos erupted.

Zander moved first, his hands igniting with black fire. He slashed his blade through the air, and the Dark Flame responded—snaking outward like living shadows, curling around the squad in a protective arc as the Blood Fae charged.