Page 88 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Arenna didn’t crumble to the ground this time, and there was no lingering nausea. She landed in the center of the Worden soldiers, some of them gasping and pulling back at her sudden appearance.

The stench—a mix of blood, bodies, sweat, and soiled pants—of the once-green valley threatened to turn her stomach. “Where is your king?” Arenna asked, her voice sharp.

Several heads turned toward her. “We haven’t seen him,” one of the soldiers said breathlessly. Laying a hand over his heart, the male said, “But he’s here. We can feel him.”

Relief clogged her throat. “Find him,” she whispered.

Arenna turned, ready to fight, when a hand gripped her wrist, making her flinch.

“Firewielder,” the soldier said. “Burn them to the ground.”

She gave him a small nod, then turned back to the battle. Before her, the scene was an endless clash of steel, bursts of power, and sprays of blood. Iron glinted in the last rays of sunlight, blinding her momentarily.

In a flash, steel came down on her—a blow to her rib cage that should have shattered bone. She stumbled, her breath ragged, clutching the dragon scaled vest that protected her.

“You were hard to find, Serpent Queen.”

The man before her wasn’t a stranger.

“ Malsen? ” she croaked.

He smiled. “Happy to see me?” Malsen thrust his sword again, the tip narrowly missing her scaled chest. “You left me strapped to a table in a lab. And you can imagine what the king did to me after that.”

Guilt twisted in her stomach. “I’m sorry,” she said. His features softened, briefly conflicted. Arenna summoned her fire. “But don’t blame me for the actions of a corrupted man.”

He hissed, the kindness in his eyes vanishing. He seemed taller, broader— changed . “It takes every effort not to gut you where you stand, but I must return you to my king.” Her former guard lunged with all his strength.

Arenna formed a flaming shield above her head, but the blow never came. She lowered the shield just as a flash of silver passed by, the sounds of gurgling blood and shattered bone filling the air. A beast tore at Malsen’s throat, his blood staining the animal’s thick, silver fur.

Stunned, Arenna stepped back as the animal shredded further into Malsen, then turned its predatory gaze on her.

But she knew those violet eyes. “Rodsan?” she whispered, her hand reaching for his silver snout.

His eyes blinked in recognition, and he bowed his head slightly.

“You’re a shape-shifter,” she said, laughing softly.

Rodsan dipped his massive head again.

Arenna pressed her hand to the bridge of his nose, resting her forehead between his eyes. His fur was warm and rough against her skin. She whispered, “Thank you.” With another snarl, the wolf was off, tearing through Brookworth soldiers like they were nothing but stuffed toys.

Arenna sucked in a breath, her gaze returning to the valley horizon. She didn’t know how they could survive another onslaught like this, but as a wave of red formed on the hill, she realized they had no choice.

Time seemed to slow as she scanned her surroundings in the middle of chaos.

Blood sprayed, bodies fell, and screams were muffled in her ears. Balls of light and streams of magic coiled through the air, slamming into Brookworth soldiers. She could not imagine anything more horrific than the violence she witnessed, nor could she fathom the scale of this destruction.

And she had once loved the man responsible.

Growls echoed behind her, snapping her out of the bloody trance. In one swift motion, Arenna drew the blade from her back, raising it just in time. Steel clashed overhead, sending burning sparks raining down.

A Brookworth soldier snarled inches from her face, his rage raw and deadly. Arenna couldn’t help but wonder what lies Jaksen had told his army in her name to make him feel such a thing.

He drove her backward, using pure strength to press their blades together.

Arenna’s hands trembled, struggling to hold her sword against his power.

She realized if they stayed locked like this, he would overpower her and eventually kill her.

In a swift decision, Arenna released her hold on the sword, letting it clatter to the ashen ground.

Caught off guard, the soldier stumbled, falling face-first to the dirt. Arenna pivoted around him, grabbing a blade from her waist and driving it into the back of his skull. His body twitched beneath her, blood pooling, and she fought to keep the bile in her throat.

Before she could rise, a hand grabbed her, yanking her onto her back.

Eyes wide, Arenna gasped for air, the wind knocked from her lungs. A second Brookworth soldier loomed over her, sword aimed at her throat.

Still coughing, Arenna struggled for her fallen blade, but the man slammed his boot onto her wrist, pinning it into the dirt. Had she not been so breathless, she might have screamed as his heel dug into her skin.

Then the earth rumbled.

The ground swayed violently, and a jagged chasm split open before her, ripping and tearing across the ashen lands.

Arenna watched in horror as Brookworth soldiers tumbled into it, falling down, down, down before the earth closed back over them. She heard their screams long after the ground fused back together—but the realization of what happened quickly settled.

There was only one person capable of such power.

Arenna turned slowly.

The Fae King stood a few feet away, clad in battle-worn Worden armor, a golden dragon crown resting crooked atop his dark hair. Blood streaked down his cheek, clinging to the curve of his jaw, matting strands of facial hair to his neck. His chest rose and fell in quick, ragged breaths.

Golden eyes locked onto hers—wide, desperate, shining with silver at the edges.

Arenna didn’t think, only ran.

And so did he.

They tore through the chaos, shoving past bodies, blades, and blood without hesitation. The battlefield melted away. No Fae. No humans. No screams or smoke or pain.

Only him.

Only her.

When they collided, it wasn’t just an embrace—it was impact, soul-deep and shattering. Arenna crashed into his chest, arms locking tightly around his shoulders as she buried her face against him.

His arms wrapped around her instantly, fiercely, as if afraid she might vanish. Kayson’s fingers tangled in her hair, one hand cradling the back of her neck. “You’re alive,” he breathed, the words raw and trembling. He pressed his forehead to hers. “ Alive .”

Arenna smiled, laughter spilling from her lips in relief, choked and breathless.

He leaned back only enough to cup her face, scanning every inch of her with frantic eyes—her cheeks, her arms, the blood on her shoulder, the gash across her knee. Kayson’s expression hardened, fury etched into every sharp line of his face. “Who did this to you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Arenna choked out. “Jaksen brought the druque.”

Kayson’s face drained of color. His lethal eyes scanned her again and the sentence he was about to mutter was cut short. Instead, he asked, “Where is your armor?”

“I have none.”

Kayson sucked in a breath, pulling a capsule from his pocket and grabbing her hand. He took them to a small hill overlooking the battle.

“We have to get back to them,” she shouted, struggling to find her footing.

“And we will,” Kayson said. He began unhooking his armor piece by piece and attaching it to her body instead.

He started with golden greaves on her legs, then moved to the bracers on her arms. He tightened the leather straps, pulling her this way and that until Arenna felt her breath change.

“Nothing else will fit you, but it’s better than nothing.

You will stay alive,” he whispered, running his hands down her arms. “You will not die, and you will not be a hero.”

Arenna scowled. “I am not a damn dog, Kayson. Do not order me around like one.”

“There’s pain in your heart, revenge in your blood.

I see it in how you fight, in how you wield your flame.

” She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he continued. “Wanting revenge. Wanting Jaksen to suffer like you have. Believe me, I know that feeling all too well. But we have a greater purpose to this continent.”

“And if we die, we can’t fulfill it.”

He nodded slowly, one corner of his mouth lifting in a faint smile. “You are incredible, Firewielder. Your heart is full for the people around you. But if I—if the world loses you, it will cease to exist.” His features softened.

“I won’t sit back and let innocents die, or let Brookworth ravage this kingdom,” Arenna said, her voice cold and firm.

He placed a hand on her cheek. “I would never ask that of you. Never . But I will ask you not to kill yourself trying to save everyone else.”

Pain rattled her chest, the names of her loved ones flashing through her mind. She had failed them—failed so many. I will not fail again . “I won’t,” Arenna finally said.

Kayson smiled slightly, though it seemed to pain him as he looked at her.

Horns blared in the distance. Both of their heads snapped to the horizon, where the second legion of Brookworth soldiers descended the hill. Some ran and others rode armored horses, but they all charged toward Emerlon.

Toward their home.

Kayson wrapped his arm around her waist, slipping a rippler beneath his tongue. In seconds, they were back at the frontlines.

Three figures appeared beside them—Bramnen beside Arenna, Marea and Wylder standing with Kayson. All dirty, panting, and bloody. “Thought you two could fight without us?” Marea asked, ripping twin blades from her back.

“Never.” Kayson grinned, the expression utterly wicked and feral. “Burn them all,” he said, glancing at Arenna.

She snapped open her hands, flames instantly sparking within her palms. “Bury them after.”

Kayson’s hearty laugh echoed beside her.

Arenna turned her attention back to the soldiers draped in red, ready to incinerate as many as she could. A part of her wished Jaksen was among them, if only to end this before it truly began.

The Brookworth forces paused atop the hill, their flags and capes billowing gently in the wind. Arenna’s stomach twisted, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to hold its breath. All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing.

Faint battle horns sounded again, and then they were moving. Arenna felt as though she was running in slow motion, flames dancing on her wrists in a hypnotic sway. Kayson was a solid wall beside her, his features sharp, eyes burning with fierce determination.

The roar of battle slammed into her senses, and reality returned to normalcy at the first release of her power.

Kayson raised his hand, and with a single motion, the earth obeyed, rising up beneath Brookworth’s frontlines and sending men and horses tumbling off the small hill he created.

Arenna gathered her power into a ball of fire, hurling it toward soldier after soldier.

Men screamed as they fell, clutching their burning bodies and rolling across the grassy plains.

The soldiers who had escaped the earth and flames were upon them now, and the two sides clashed, merging into one singular, bleeding color.