Page 85 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Arenna collapsed on the outskirts of Emerlon, where a few small cottages remained.

She had planned to get to the front gates where the Worden army gathered—where Kayson and the rest of his council might be—but this would have to do for now.

Nausea churned in her gut, and her legs wobbled as she stood.

But she had made it . Despite this being her first time rippling alone, she had arrived close enough to the city.

Her heart cracked at the sight of flames engulfing half-timbered homes, obliterating the blue roofs.

Fae raced toward the valley’s river, seeking safety in the water from the relentless flames.

Stone bridges, once connecting homes and shops over the Sylvania River, crumbled, falling into the once calm waters below.

Brookworth soldiers, mounted on horses, stormed through the winding cobbled streets, torches in hand, letting the fire consume whatever it could.

They cut down surrendering males and females, laughing as heads rolled and blood spilled.

Arenna hadn’t felt such fear since she was a girl, watching in disbelief as her new home—the home she had come to love and accept—crumbled.

But that fear quickly turned into pure, burning anger.

As Arenna gazed at the destruction wrought by the hands of a monster, she knew what she must do.

Itta taught her she could take fire away as easily as she could produce it.

Setting down her satchel, she closed her eyes, moving her hands in slow, methodical circles as she drew power to her palms, breathing deeply.

Infernus produces fire. Defernus will draw it back in.

Emerald eyes slowly opened, her world now tinted in shades of red and gold. She flung her hands toward the burning roofs and torch-wielding soldiers, commanding the flames to come to her. “ Defernus ,” she whispered.

In the distance, the flames flickered, and then one by one, they pulled away from the city. Fire lifted off the roofs, away from the blackened torches, off the scorched grass, and even from the Fae it had caught, forming a ball of flame that hurtled toward her.

It struck her with enough force to knock an ordinary person off their feet, but Arenna didn’t move an inch. Instead of consuming her, the fire wrapped around her, coating her until she burned bright red.

Brookworth soldiers snapped their heads in her direction, their eyes widening at the sight of their former queen. Without hesitation, they charged.

A battle cry rasped from Arenna’s throat as she lifted her hands, fire pooling and swirling around her arms and wrists.

She circled her hands harder, faster, until a bolt of red shot forth, striking the first soldier in her path.

He didn’t have a second to scream as his body was engulfed in flames, tumbling from his horse, thrashing and screeching in the grass.

The remaining three soldiers took one look at their fallen comrade, then yanked the reins of their mounts, fleeing in the opposite direction. “ Cowards ,” she seethed, sprinting toward the vacant horse.

With one swift movement, Arenna was in the saddle, reins firmly in hand. Her eyes burned with bloodlust, her power surging, craving to claim another life. She dug her heels into the horse’s sides, pushing it faster.

When she caught up to the fleeing Brookworth soldiers, she released the reins, steadied her breathing, and exploded. Power rushed from her hands in a fury she had never felt before. Flames blazed past the shrieking men, forming a wall.

Embers crackled and popped as they climbed, expanding until the three men were trapped between her and a path promising death. “Why are you here?” she demanded, dismounting her horse and sending it away.

Two of the soldiers could only stare, their eyes filled with equal parts shock and hatred. The largest one, however, curled his mouth into a vicious snarl, his arms trembling with rage. “Traitorous wench,” he growled, unsheathing a massive blade from his back.

He was the first to die.

Paying him no attention and focusing on the two soldiers cowering behind their horses, Arenna asked, “Why are you here?”

“My queen, please, spare us,” one sputtered. His armor clanked as his knees hit the dirt, his comrade falling beside him. “I will tell you anything!”

Each step felt heavier than the last, but Arenna would not falter.

She would not show fear. She eyed the blood on their armor, dripping from their swords in slow, steady globs.

“Like you spared the innocents in the city?” she said, stepping closer.

“I watched you butcher them, then laugh. There were children among the dead.”

One man paled, while the other straightened. “We did what we were ordered. What our king demanded.”

“And that was?”

He swallowed hard, blood, dirt, and ash clinging to his skin. “Kill anyone with pointed ears, retrieve an amulet, and make sure you come home alive.”

What? Arenna’s stomach plummeted. The golden necklace Itta had given her felt heavy on her chest, burning almost like a brand. “What does Jaksen want with an amulet?” Arenna asked, hoping they hadn’t noticed the gold glinting around her neck.

“I have no idea,” he stuttered, shaking like he was freezing. “We were told what it looked like and to bring it to him immediately.”

Arenna clenched her teeth so tightly her jaw ached. “What else?” she demanded, her voice sharp and unyielding.

The man trembled, holding out his hands in a desperate plea. “That is all I know, I swear. Please, grant me mercy.”

The smaller one whimpered, “Please, my queen, we will lay down our arms. We will not hurt another soul.”

Arenna’s gaze hardened. “No, you will not,” she said with an eerie calm. She looked them both in the eyes, seeing the fear, perhaps even a trace of awe. After a long, weighted moment, she said, “And I am not your queen.”

Her flame devoured them whole.

* * *

Boots slapped against wet cobblestone roads, the dampness a mix of water and blood.

Arenna didn’t know which and didn’t have the stomach to check.

Bodies littered the walking paths and glass from the windows splintered across the ground.

Her heart ached with every step, but she did not stop running, did not stop pounding her feet into the earth.

Each breath came ragged and sharp, her lungs burning as she pushed herself forward.

The weight of the amulet around her neck seemed heavier with every stride, a reminder of the burden she now carried and the task that lay ahead.

She did not understand what Jaksen could possibly want with it, but Arenna knew she had to protect it at all costs.

Itta had died for it .

The streets of Emerlon, once filled with life and laughter, now echoed with the cries of the injured, the grieving, and the silence of the dead. Fae sprinted past her, as if she were a fish swimming upstream in a river. They were sobbing, screaming, and searching for safety amidst the chaos.

It pained her to know she could not save them all.

Arenna stepped in front of a female whose eyes were red and puffy, her hair torn from its brown braid.

“Take this,” she demanded, shoving one of the jars from her pack into the female’s hands.

“Put one capsule under your tongue and imagine the bunkers beneath Castle Worden. It will take you there in the blink of an eye.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand—”

“Give one to everyone you see,” Arenna instructed. A male who had been running approached them, holding out his hands for one of the jars. She glanced his way and set one in his arms. “Especially the injured. Do not leave anyone behind.”

He smiled and said, “I won’t, Firewielder.”

Tendrils of gray smoke lifted into the sky, covering the usual blue with a thick blanket of haze.

The sun drifted behind the smoke, casting the world around her into darkness.

Magic illuminated the lanterns lining the roadways, as if it remained oblivious to the devastation around it and continued with its scheduled tasks.

Hooves clattered against the ground in front of her, a Brookworth brute cutting down innocents as he rode by on his mount. Arenna burned with rage, sending a wave of flames toward the soldier. They scorched him instantly, and his body tumbled from the horse, landing with a sickening thud.

She stood in front of the stallion, calming him with a gentle brush of her hand. Arenna climbed into the saddle after yanking her blade free from the soldier’s face and wiping it clean on her thigh.

Ripping the reins back toward her original direction, Arenna pushed forward down the streets.

A mass of soldiers appeared on the horizon, crimson flags with silver serpent symbols standing tall above the crowd.

Her stomach dropped at the thought of Jaksen being among them, somewhere in this kingdom.

Arenna had lost hours of sleep worrying about the tortures she would face if he ever found her and brought her back to his prison.

Shaking off the thought, Arenna leaned into the stallion’s neck and gently pushed the heels of her boots into the beast’s sides, urging him faster down the winding road. How were they already so close?

If she looked hard enough, Arenna could make out the wave of black as Worden soldiers formed a thick line at Emerlon’s entrance. Amidst the sea of darkness, a familiar red braid stood out. “Marea,” Arenna whispered, her eyes pricking with tears of relief.

As she shifted to push her stallion harder, weaving through the streets of her favorite city, a massive gray blob suddenly crashed into both the stallion and herself, bringing them all to the ground.

Arenna landed on her back, the air in her lungs whooshing out.

She coughed and choked, clutching her chest as she scrambled to her knees.

Click. Click. Click .