Page 43 of Fall of Ruin and Wrath

The “please” stopped me.

Because a Hyhborn lord, even him, saying that? To me? A low-born? That was . . . that was unheard of. He hadn’t even said that last night, when he asked for my help.

Then everything happened so fast.

The other Hyhborn cursed, darting backward as he withdrew theluneadagger, but the other lord was faster. He caught the Hyhborn by the wrist and twisted. The crack of bone was like thunder. I smacked my hand over my mouth, silencing a scream.

The Hyhborn hissed in pain as the blade fell to the ground. “You do this”— his lips peeled back— “you’ll regret it. With your very last breath, you will.”

“No, Nathaniel,” the Lord replied, and he sounded bored. Like Grady did whenever I started to talk about the different types of daisies. “I will not.”

I caught only a glimpse of the Lord’s fist. Just a second before it slammed against the Hyhborn’s chest—intohis chest.

The one called Nathaniel threw his head back, his body jerking as my hand fell from my mouth.

“Just one more moment,” the Lord said, rather casually.

Golden fire erupted from Nathaniel’s chest— or from the Lord’s hand, which was still plunged deep inside said chest. The fire spread over Nathaniel in a rippling, violent wave of vibrant gold flames, and I suddenly knew exactly how the blacksmith’s and the Twin Barrels had been incinerated. Within a few heartbeats, all that remained of Nathaniel was . . . was a pile of ash and a few strips of charred clothing beside the fallenluneablade.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, horrified . . . and a little awed by the display of power, but mostly horrified as I lifted my gaze. Behind where Nathaniel had stood, the pale blossoms were splattered with blood, just as I’d seen.

I lifted my stare to the Lord, who . . . who could barely walk on his own last night, whom I had just fantasized about while pleasuring myself, and he’d . . .

And he’d incinerated another with hishand.

If he could do that to one of his own, what in the whole wide realm ofnopecould he do to a lowborn?

I took a shaky step back, reminded once more of exactly what this lord was. Somehow, I’d forgotten that.

“Na’laa,”the Lord called softly.

My entire body jolted.

A strand of hair slipped forward and fell against his jaw as he bent, wiping his hand on one of the pieces of burnt clothing. “You should come closer.”

I inched back another step. “I don’t know about that.”

“Are you finally afraid of me?” the Lord asked, picking up the fallenluneablade.

I wasn’t sure, but I knew I should be. I should be terrified.

His head cut in my direction. “Don’t move any further— ”

I moved several more feet. Somehow the fire he’d created was more unnerving than seeing him tear out Weber’s windpipe. I wasn’t even sure why, but—

Something snagged my braid, jerking me back. I cried out as pain radiated down my neck and spine. My feet slipped out from underneath me as I was spun. A hand clamped down on my throat. Dragged back against a wall of a chest, I gripped the hand upon my throat, and I heard absolutelynothingas I saw the tall Hyhborn lord through the swaying wisteria vines.

“Muriel,” the Lord drawled, and shock rolled through me. I knew that name. Finn and Mickie had spoken it. “I’ve spent all day looking for you.”

“Don’t come any closer,” the one holding me warned as I clawed at his hand, breaking my nails on the hard flesh of another Hyhborn.

The Hyhborn lord prowled forward slowly, the trailing vines lifting and swinging out of his way before his body even came into contact with them. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” the Lord said, ignoring Muriel. “But didn’t I tell you not to move?”

“I— ”

“Stop,” Muriel growled, cutting me off. His grip on my throat tightened. Panic threatened to seize me. “Or I will snap her fucking neck.”

“That neck is a pretty one,” the Hyhborn lord responded. “But why, Muriel, would you think I’d care if you did snap it?”