Page 47

Chapter Forty-Seven

Jasce

Behind me, Reeve shifts his weight, while Jude remains as still as stone. Their presence steadies me, grounds me. We’ve fought together, bled together, and survived impossible odds before, and we will get through this too.

Asha may have assembled a huge army, but each of my warriors is worth ten of Asha’s barbarians, and we have something they don’t: honor. We’re fighting for our homes, our families, our very way of life.

“There are four guards at the perimeter, Reeve,” I say as Jude and I crouch behind a boulder at the edges of Asha’s camp.

Reeve nods as tendrils of shadowfire curl from his fingertips. As it snakes through the night air, he melds into the shadows.

When I was younger, I envied his ability to turn invisible—to move soundlessly. Now, I appreciate having someone like him with me. Someone who cares about family more than ambition. Someone who would never betray me.

The first guard doesn’t even twitch as Reeve appears behind him and cuts his throat. The next three guards fall in the space between heartbeats, their bodies gently lowered to the ground by Reeve.

He materializes beside me, the last wisps of his magic dissipating from his skin. Not a hair is out of place, and not a drop of blood is on his clothes.

“Clear,” he says, though we hardly need the confirmation.

The moonless night wraps around us as Reeve, Jude, and I weave through the camp, heading toward Aleksander’s tent, where two warriors stand guard on either side of the entrance.

I nod at Reeve, and without making a sound, he melts into the shadows. He reappears a moment later behind one of the guards. Before the man can react, Reeve presses a blade to his throat and silences him with a quick, lethal slash.

I dispatch the other guard just as efficiently, clamping my hand over his mouth to muffle any cries before my dagger finds its mark, cutting his life short.

The tent flap barely stirs as we slip inside. Aleksander lies sprawled across a bed, one arm lazily draped over his chest as he sleeps.

I glance at Jude, and he steps forward, raising his palms outward. The air between him and Aleksander shimmers like heat rising from sun-scorched stones. Jude unleashes a concentrated pulse of scorching air, rolling across the space in a shimmering wave.

Aleksander’s eyes snap open, but it’s too late. The super-heated blast slams into him, forcing his body rigid and arching him off the bed as his mouth opens in a silent gasp of shock.

Before he can recover, I close the distance between us in two quick strides and hold my dagger against his throat. “Hello, Alek.”