Page 95 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Kayson had never hated himself like this before.

When he watched Arenna break and sob, unraveling with each truth she uncovered, he couldn’t stop the shattering of his soul.

He had done this to her. He had withheld the truth of her past. He could have prevented it all by telling her the truth.

But he didn’t.

Kayson did not know what to feel when Arenna stood and smiled at Faylen. His heart thrashed rapidly, his mind swarming with possibilities. Though he had hurt her, betrayed her, he knew she would not realign with Jaksen.

With that evil.

He pulled against the red soldiers as Faylen stepped toward her.

But he stilled when Faylen offered Arenna a single blue vial. “This will restore all your memories. Your old life. It’s so you can see the truth for what it is and know exactly who you should be fighting for.”

Arenna’s green eyes stared at it, puffy and red, somehow making the emerald color even more vibrant.

Finally, she looked at him. He wanted to reach for her, wanted to apologize and make it up to her, to fix everything he had broken, and to tell her what he had hidden and why he had done it.

Arenna grabbed the tonic from Faylen and tucked it into a pocket on her leather pants.

In a flash of fists and frenzy, Arenna struck Faylen’s face, climbing atop her as the blonde sorceress crumbled to the ground.

Again and again, she punched, not stopping even after Faylen’s pale face was showered in red. With Faylen’s focus elsewhere, her smoky soldiers disappeared, freeing Kayson from their hold.

He ran to Arenna, pulling her from the wicked woman in one clean motion when he realized Faylen was not moving. They needed her alive, they needed to ask questions and get answers on why Brookworth stormed their gates. They needed to find Jaksen.

Rage made her thrash and kick within his grasp. “Get off me,” she roared, sending her elbows into his chest and face. Kayson let go, and Arenna stumbled from his grasp. She sank to her knees, palms against the earth, hyperventilating. “Get off of me,” she whispered.

His heart broke into a thousand pieces.

Arenna opened her mouth to speak, but her words were swallowed by her screams. Faylen stood behind her, palms spread outward, evil etched across her face. Her red and black eyes flared, her skin seeming to rot away from her bones.

Arenna screamed again, her body breaking apart as Faylen’s power boiled her blood, which seeped from her eyes, ears, and nose.

He ran to her, screaming in desperation.

Faylen’s gaze flickered to him, a smile spreading to reveal her white teeth. She whispered something to herself, and the pain began.

Kayson clawed at the dirt. The pain was unbearable; unlike anything he had ever experienced.

Every battle, every scar, every stab and punch paled in comparison.

His blood boiled within him, his insides burning, bubbling, and exploding all at once.

He didn’t know how he could survive, how anyone could recover from such agony.

“Do not fight it, Fae King.” Faylen’s voice was like daggers in his ears—distorted, deeper, as if the magic had possessed her.

“The more you resist, the faster your blood will curdle.” He breathed through clenched teeth, fisting the grass and crawling toward Arenna.

Faylen groaned. “Or I could curdle it for you, and we won’t have to wait. ”

Kayson screamed as his own blood scorched his insides. Whatever Faylen had done—whatever hold she had on him—intensified. Tears burned as they rolled down his cheeks, and he dug his fingers into the earth until his nails cracked.

“Do not move another inch, Fae bastard,” Faylen snarled. She knelt beside Arenna, gripping her hair by the scalp.

Kayson weakly stretched his hand toward Arenna, silently pleading with Faylen to leave her alone.

Blackness edged his vision, and the air in his lungs felt nearly gone. He thudded against the grass, hot blood dripping from his mouth, eyes, and ears. He had always known he would die in war.

Death wouldn’t greet him in his bed, surrounded by loved ones. His destiny was to fall on the battlefield, defending his home and protecting his people. But he never expected it would come at the hands of Jaksen’s lover, or through foreign, stolen power.

Most of all, he never imagined he would die mere feet away from the woman who kept his heart beating, unable to protect her.

Kayson used every ounce of strength to tilt his chin toward Arenna. Her black hair spilled over her body; blood splattered across her cheeks. His blood may have been boiling, but his soul was obliterating.

He had failed her .

She had risked everything for him, for his kingdom, and for the people she had been born to hate but learned to love.

Kayson had lied to her despite all she had done.

And now, he couldn’t protect her.

“ Please ,” he whispered, his voice burning his throat.

Faylen stepped toward him, dropping to one knee. “What was that, Reaper?” She curled a finger under his chin, lifting it. He fought against the agony, but her magic overpowered him. She bent him to her will, and there was nothing he could do.

She released her hold slightly, and Kayson’s body jerked violently as it filled with air. The pain subsided, his vision cleared, and his blood simmered. “I will kill you,” he choked out, staring into her black eyes.

“I’d love to see you try.” She laughed, pushing his chin back to the earth before stalking back to Arenna.

Faylen raked her hand through Arenna’s hair, and Kayson lunged.

He didn’t make it far before Faylen’s power struck again. He was forced back to his knees, but the pain was more bearable.

Using the remaining strength from within, Kayson stood on wobbly legs, every movement strained.

Faylen cocked her head, eyes flaring. “You just don’t know when to give up, do you? And for what? Her? ” She looked down at Arenna, kicking her head with her boot.

Rage exploded in Kayson, and he tried to lunge again. Another wave of blood curdling pain rippled through his body, bringing the king back to the ground. “Do not touch her,” he snarled, pushing against the dead grass, using all his energy to keep moving forward.

“Enough heroics,” Faylen spat. With a wave of her hand, Kayson was down again, pinned to the earth by her crimson smoke.

“She took everything from me,” Faylen said, looking down at Arenna.

“I was meant to be his queen. But the time has come for me to take my rightful place and save our people,” Faylen glanced at Kayson, “while making yours extinct.”

Another surge of power sliced through him.

Kayson felt every bubble in his blood, felt the heat of Faylen’s power cooking him from the inside out.

“Where-where is your king?” he managed to choke out.

“Does-does he always . . . get you to do his dirty work?” Each word ached as it rolled off his tongue.

Faylen screamed as she turned her hands at the king, pummeling him with everything she had.

Pain drowned out her voice as he looked at Arenna.

His heart cracked right then as he realized he was only inches away and still could do nothing to save her.

Above all, Kayson was going to die without ever getting to love her.

His eternal .

He was going to die without telling Arenna what fate had planned for them. From the moment she set foot on his continent, he knew. He’d felt the longing for her deep within his chest ever since they docked in Alaraine, no matter how hard he fought it.

It was agonizing trying to hate someone he was meant to love so fiercely.

But through the months she’d spent in Vlazias, his heart had changed. She had changed him, even before he knew the truth about her memories. He’d been falling for Arenna without even realizing it. And now, he would die with that secret in his heart.

Kayson’s senses slammed into him. Faylen’s blood magic rushed from his body with sickening swiftness, leaving him panting and breathless.

His hearing returned, his vision normalized, and his healing ability kicked in.

Though he could barely see, something moved behind Faylen in slow motion, fluid and precise.

He groaned, rolling onto his side, clutching his center. Though Faylen’s power was gone, his blood calm and steady in his veins, he still felt the aftermath of the magic. His insides sizzled, his body wanting to shut down.

Raising himself to meet Faylen’s gaze, he watched as life left her eyes and death claimed her. She trembled before him, her mouth gaping wide, her face frozen in shock or fear, maybe both.

A dark hand gripped Faylen’s chin, holding it so hard Kayson could see the paleness of her knuckles through the burnout. The other hand dragged a dagger across the sorceress’s throat, thick red blood flowing from the wound.

Arenna did not blink as Faylen’s limp body crumbled to the floor. She spat—Sisters above, she spat —on Faylen’s body and stepped over it like it was nothing more than a log in her way.

Kayson’s heart clenched at the sight, and he fell to his knees before her. Never would he kneel to another being, but for Arenna—for her—he would crumble at her feet. She did not acknowledge his presence as she stalked away, swaying from the burnout exhaustion that would soon take hold.

A noise left his throat. He watched her descend the valley hills, something like pride in his eyes despite the ache in his heart.

Gone was the cowering wife of the Serpent King, the female who was enslaved to her husband, too traumatized and afraid to defend herself.

Before him stood a warrior.

A female carved from darkness, broken in dungeons, reborn in the ashes. A ruthless survivor with the taste of revenge on her tongue. The female who would help fix their world and unify the continents.

The Firewielder.

His eternal .

Kayson rose on unsteady legs, trailing behind her through the still smoldering valley. He decided right there, even if her flames consumed him entirely, he would follow her without hesitation. For in her fire, he found his purpose, his strength, and a reason to endure.

Even if it meant becoming part of the inferno that fueled her rise.