Page 90 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Voices called out from behind, begging her to stop, to come back—but Arenna could not hear them over the roaring in her ears. She wouldn’t have listened even if she could. She ran harder than she ever had, sprinting toward Faylen, who climbed off the stallion with familiar, fluid grace.

Tears leaked from Arenna’s eyes. Memories from the colosseum fluttered back.

They had been in a similar situation once, two sisters running toward each other in the midst of chaos.

But this time, there was no threat to Faylen’s life, no snapping jaws seconds away from ripping her flesh from her bones.

Ten steps away , and Arenna sobbed.

Faylen pushed herself harder, reaching out a hand.

Five steps .

A familiar scent of jasmine coated Arenna as they collided in a frenzy, arms wrapping around one another. “ How is this possible? ” Arenna choked, burying her face in Faylen’s hair. “How is this possible?” she repeated.

Faylen brought a hand to Arenna’s cheek, her smile bright.

“I will explain everything soon, little sister.” Everything was as it had been: shimmering blue eyes, pale skin, golden hair.

Plum berry smeared across Faylen’s full lips, coal lined the thick of her lashes.

She was the same. Not dead. Not torn apart.

Beautiful, regal , alive.

Arenna laughed as tears rolled again. “How are you here?” she asked, placing a hand on Faylen’s cheek. It was warm. Alive . She needed that reminder over and over again. “I watched you . . .”

Faylen didn’t have the chance to respond before the earth shuddered, and Arenna spun to find Kayson stalking toward them, anger burning in his eyes. “Get away from her,” he growled, angling his palms upward.

Arenna shook her head in a cloud of confusion. Her sister was here, breathing, and he wanted her to step away?

Faylen grinned wickedly, almost as if she expected this.

Flame engulfed the hand she pointed at Kayson. “Stop,” Arenna whispered, her voice shaking. He did immediately, mouth parting. Pain flashed in his eyes.

Arenna’s gaze drifted to the Worden army behind their king, the sound of blades pulled from sheaths echoing through the air. She found Bramnen and Wylder, and saw the betrayed looks on their faces.

No. This isn’t what it looks like , she wanted to shout.

Marea stepped into view, a bow in her hands, with a knocked arrow pointed directly at Arenna.

No, no. Stop. You don’t understand. I don’t understand. I would never hurt him.

Arenna didn’t know what she was doing. Her heart was being torn between two beings, one half stretching to return to Kayson, the other melting against Faylen’s embrace.

She was confused. She didn’t know what to do. What to feel.

Her older sister ran a slender hand up and down Arenna’s arm. “Nothing is what it seems, little sister. I will tell you everything, but you must return home. With me.”

She didn’t need to be hit for breath to whoosh out of her lungs. “What?” Arenna rasped, taking a step backward.

“We must return to Brookworth. To Jaksen.”

Earth rumbled again.

Arenna took another step backward, toward the safety of Worden.

Of Kayson. She felt faint, realizing how open to attack she was standing in the center of the valley, in the middle of two rival kingdoms. “That wasn’t our plan,” Arenna whispered.

“You were going to run away with me. We were going to escape Jaksen.” Her stomach dropped. “You know I won’t go back to him.”

Faylen stepped closer. “He will not hurt you, I give you my word.”

“Your word?” Arenna repeated, confusion lacing her voice. “For months I have believed you to be dead. I watched your body get torn apart.” She pointed toward the druque. “I watched them devour you. Explain to me how you’re here, and then maybe I can trust your word.”

Anger twisted Faylen’s features. “I am your sister. You would question me?”

Tears stung Arenna’s eyes, but she would not let them fall. “My sister was killed in the colosseum. Ripped apart so violently I could not tell which piece of her lay in front of me,” she whispered. “How can you be her ?” Uttering such a question felt like a betrayal, a knife in the heart.

Kayson’s voice cleared the space between them. “There is no possible reason she should be alive, Arenna.” The wind carried his voice, crashing it into her chest. “We don’t know who she is or what she is.”

“Do not twist her view,” Faylen seethed, pushing Arenna behind her. “I am her sister. You are a lying bastard. You have tainted her view of her home, her kingdom. You have withheld the truth from her, so do not paint me to be the villain.”

Arenna had never seen Faylen like this, not once in her life. Was this truly her sister, or a blood magic trick being played by Jaksen?

“ Tell her the truth! ” Faylen screamed.

The color drained from Kayson’s face.

Arenna’s blood iced over. “What is she talking about?”

Kayson shook his head. “Listen to me,” the king started, taking a step. She could hear the pain in his voice, the desperation. “Just come back, and I will tell you everything. Come home.”

Faylen laughed. “Home? Oh , this is simply hilarious.” She stalked toward Arenna, gripping her chin.

Arenna heard Kayson’s breath flare with anger.

“Are you sleeping with the Red Reaper, little sister?”

“No,” Arenna snapped, shoving Faylen’s sharpened nails away.

“If you touch her again—” Kayson warned, stepping closer to the sisters. Arenna had never seen him like this—so unrestrained, so full of emotion.

Faylen whipped her head toward the king. “She is to return to Brookworth, allow my king to harvest her blood, and we will destroy this forsaken continent,” she roared, clapping her palms together in front of her chest.

What? Arenna stood on trembling legs, secretly pulling her dagger out and squeezing the handle. Her world felt like it was tipping on its axis; her balance was off, and her eyes weren’t seeing properly.

Faylen turned toward Arenna, sighing, like she was annoyed by accidentally revealing the truth. There was darkness in her eyes that had not been there before. The blue was gone, replaced by a black so dark it looked born from the Rot, and her irises were rimmed in red.

“Fay?” Arenna whispered, taking a hesitant step toward her sister. “What’s going on?”

Red smoke seeped from every pore on Faylen’s arms and hands, coiling like a serpent. Arenna’s mouth parted as she took two steps to the side, trying to place herself back on Worden’s side. She had been a fool to think this was her sister, a stupid fool to act on emotion rather than logic.

Arenna kept Faylen at a healthy distance—though it would be no use if this was the same blood magic Jaksen possessed. He had strangled her with it, lifting her from the ground and contorting her body in any way he pleased. No distance would protect her if Faylen’s magic was similar.

The earth shook beneath Arenna’s feet, a sign that Kayson understood what she was doing. “Fay,” she pleaded. Those black eyes flicked to Arenna’s, roaming over her arms and hands—as though she were waiting for her younger sister to attack with flame. “I watched you die.”

Faylen shook her head. “You watched someone glamoured to look like me die.” Arenna stopped moving. “Jaksen figured out about the Fae King’s trick, glamoring himself to make my king believe he was the Emissary from Forx.” She sucked on a tooth. “Clever, but not clever enough for my Jaksen.”

Vomit swam its way up the length of Arenna’s throat. “ Your Jaksen?”

“Do not act a fool, Arenna. You had to know your husband favored me. All the glances during balls, the nights he spent with me and left you alone.”

Arenna swayed. Her eyes glazed over, and her ears were muffled. Everything made sense now. Faylen’s desire to stay behind. Jaksen’s attention on Faylen whenever she walked into a room. It was all there, had always been there— right in front of her eyes.

And she didn’t see it.

Faylen continued, “He found a servant who possessed the same ability and then forced her to glamor herself to look like me.”

The earth shook harder. Arenna felt Kayson’s burning rage. His magic was feeding off that anger, shaking the earth without his command. “How long?” Arenna asked, her voice calm.

“Since the beginning.” Faylen smiled as she bit down on her pointer finger. “You were nothing but a toy to him, little sister. He wed you, bedded you, and played with you. Whereas he loved me, worshiped me, treasured me while you lay in the dungeons below us.”

Arenna went fully numb.

She found Kayson across the ashen valley, his face pale and hollow, as though Faylen’s confession did not only hurt her. It did not only betray her.

Taking a step, he reached for her slightly.

Arenna blinked back tears at the sight of the male who saved her, who showed her the strength in her blood, who gave her the will to fight back. There were no tears left to cry.

She was angry.

Angry that she was trapped within a marriage she hated with a man who abused her. Angry at her sister—someone who should have placed their blood above all else who used her and tricked her.

Her eyes flicked back up to Kayson. His hands were trembling at his sides, his eyes narrowed at the woman who claimed to be Arenna’s kin, yet she didn’t know her at all anymore.

His eyes slid toward Arenna. Her heart plummeted at the sight of his face; at the friendship they had created in such a short time.

This truly was her home.

Kayson was her home.

When I say go, I need you to run , Kayson’s look seemed to say. She noted the opening and closing of his fists, the earth that was slowly traveling to his body.

She understood his plan exactly, even without words. Faylen mumbled something from behind, but Arenna tuned her out, keeping her attention on the king, though she sensed the dread and oily touch of the blood magic creeping closer.

His palms turned outward, chin dipping.

Arenna sprinted toward the frontlines of Worden’s army as red coiling smoke chased after her. She felt it tug on her cape, her legs, and the end of her braid, trying to grab hold of her however it could.

But then the world cracked, a massive, jagged chasm cutting through the valley to separate Arenna from Faylen. Her older sister stumbled, her stolen blood magic recalling back into her pale hands.

Arenna collided with Kayson, losing herself in his embrace. In the comfort of his arms, she felt all the emotions—the betrayal, the heartache, the confusion, the pain.

He placed a hand on her head and brought it against his, where they breathed together, where their hearts pumped at the same speed.

But this was no place to lose herself. She pulled away from the home within him, turned toward the woman she no longer considered her blood— her sister —and summoned a fire so hot it ached.

“You will not be making it home to Jaksen, Faylen.” The flame burned brighter.

“And I will not give you the luxury of being buried in Worden soil.” Faylen laughed, narrowing her eyes.

“I will send your ashes back to your king in a box, wrapped in a golden ribbon.”

Faylen screamed, the sound so unearthly and ear-shattering. Red veins webbed from her eyes and across her face. Whatever she had become, she was not of this world. She exploded into a cloud of red smoke, hurtling it toward Arenna, her friends, and the Worden army.

Arenna realized then her sister would again die.

But this time, it would be by Arenna’s own hands.