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L arylis didn’t know the full details of what his wife was planning, but he had to trust her. He did, with his whole heart, even as he feared where that trust would lead. Despite his reservations, this was not the time to balk. Their enemy was near. He could arrive at any second. If Mareleau knew how to stop Darius, who was he to doubt her? Who was he but the other half of her heart? They would beat in tandem until the end.

He stood inside the cave, not far from its entrance, where the only light came from the blue-green luminescence coating the walls. Mareleau was deeper inside the cave system, and her distance somehow felt too near and too far at once. There wasn’t a depth she could go to that would ease his worry over her safety. Yet he hated that he wasn’t by her side. He hoped the semi-darkness would hamper Darius’ ability to visualize locations ahead to worldwalk to, but that was only a gamble. Did Darius’ half-Elvyn heritage give him better eyesight? The communications Larylis had received from Teryn and Cora detailed his keen hearing.

Larylis rolled his shoulders and his neck, his muscles screaming in protest. Now that he was standing still, every wound and strain blared, every limb begged to lock up. He shifted his feet and splayed his hands, one then the other, refusing to succumb to inertia.

Then the shouts began.

From just outside the mouth of the cave, a clash of steel rang out. Garot had been right. Darius hadn’t come alone. Larylis unsheathed his sword, his pulse quickening. In his mind, he began to recite famous kings of history who’d found victory during great fatigue, but he stopped himself. He didn’t need to rely on those great kings anymore. He had himself. He had this moment. He would do this.

Larylis, the bastard.

Larylis, the crownless king.

Larylis, the husband and father.

Larylis, the man who preferred silence and books over parties and warfare.

He would do this.

He would help take down a tyrant.

The sounds of fighting cut off by half, but they continued to ring from outside. Then came footsteps. The aqua glow dappling the walls reflected off a trio of figures approaching. At the center was Darius, whom he’d only seen from afar until now. Even though his form was cast in shades of teal and shadow, Larylis could tell he was coated in blood. It slicked his hair, dripped from the cut on his cheek, painted his clothing and what little remained of his armor.

Yet despite the wounds he’d sustained, Darius was still standing. Still walking with ease and poise.

His fae healing was enviable.

Darius’ expression darkened as he spotted Larylis. He motioned for his two guards to charge forward. They were much worse for wear than their master, both devoid of helms. One had a cut across his forehead while the other had use of only one eye, the other swollen shut. They charged past Darius, but before they could reach Larylis, a yellow dragon—half the size of Ferrah—slithered from a cavity in the wall and blasted a ball of golden flame at their legs. Two more dragons, these ones merely the size of large canines, climbed down the stalactites, gnashing their small yet terrifying teeth. Thankfully, none had eyes for Larylis, just the three intruders.

Or…not three.

Only two.

Larylis whirled around to see Darius already several steps ahead. There went Larylis’ hope that he wouldn’t be able to see well enough to worldwalk. He paid no heed to Larylis, as if he wasn’t worth his time. Larylis clenched his jaw and charged after him.

“Stay away from my wife and child.”

That got his attention. Darius halted and pivoted on his heel. “Your wife and child, you say? You must be the father of the great infant Morkara.”

Larylis crept closer, sword raised.

Darius held his own sword, but its tip was lowered. He still didn’t see Larylis as a worthy opponent. From the way he’d abandoned his soldiers to fight the dragons, he didn’t value his own men much either.

“Fight me,” Larylis said through his teeth.

“Why fight at all? What have I done to deserve your ire?”

“Do you truly need to ask? You seek to end the lives of my wife and son.”

Darius ran a hand over his face, wincing at the still-bleeding cut on his cheek. He frowned, as if he hadn’t expected the wound to be there. Was his rate of healing slowing down? Was there an end to his power? Was fatigue finally fraying his magic?

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Darius said, tone clipped with impatience. His easy arrogance was gone. He was worried about something. “You and your wife can surrender to me.”

Larylis scoffed. “And sacrifice our son?”

“No. Your wife can relinquish her role as regent and turn it over to me. I will oversee the boy’s reign as Morkara and give you and his mother positions in my new government. You will be like a duke and duchess of the human world, second only to me and your son. It’s better than any treatment you’ll get from the Elvyn.”

Larylis said nothing, simply appraised Darius through slitted lids.

“You know I’m right,” Darius said.

“I know I can’t trust you.” Larylis’ gaze flicked deeper down the tunnel where slithering motion approached. An orange light began to grow, shifting the aqua hues around them. Larylis pressed himself close to the cave wall just as the dragon released a blast of flame toward Darius. Larylis squeezed his eyes shut as heat seared his face.

The flame cut off.

Larylis opened his eyes to find Darius down the tunnel, his sword dripping blood. The dragon’s body slumped to the cave floor, his detached head a few feet away. Tiny dragons crawled up and down the walls, hissing and screeching, but they made no move to get any closer to Darius.

“That’s unfortunate,” Darius muttered. “I have no intention of making an enemy of the dragons, as I’ll soon be their master. I doubt the Morkara’s mother wants to see me kill more of them either.” He raised his voice at the last part, letting it carry down the tunnels.

Larylis pushed off the wall and charged forward?—

Darius disappeared.

Then his voice, too close to Larylis.

“I’ll have to try something else,” Darius said from behind him. He sliced open Larylis’ forearm, forcing him to drop his sword. Before he could retrieve it or launch away, Darius’ blade came to Larylis’ throat. Still behind him, Darius gripped his shoulder tightly. “Don’t move.”

Larylis froze.

One of Darius’ soldiers emerged from the rear tunnel—the man with the swollen eye. He now had a singed left arm and burns up one side of his neck. Yet his other arm still held a sword. He exchanged a stiff nod with his master.

“Walk,” Darius demanded of Larylis.

Larylis kept his upper body still as the three started off. They took only a few steps before their surroundings changed slightly. In a single heartbeat, they were farther down the tunnel, the aqua bioluminescence brighter and more condensed.

“I have your husband, Queen Mareleau,” Darius said. There was a slight quaver in his voice that suggested Larylis had been right. His strength was waning. He was growing desperate. “I will give your husband just a few more breaths before I cleave his head from his body. After that, I’ll do the same to every dragon in these godsforsaken caves?—”

“Don’t!” Mareleau’s voice rang out from a short distance away. The panic in her tone was like a knife to Larylis’ heart. “Don’t hurt him, please!”

Darius and the soldier exchanged another nod, and the other man took Darius’ place as Larylis’ captor. It took all Larylis’ restraint not to act. Not to tilt his head and slam it into the soldier’s nose before taking his sword. The man was wounded enough to give Larylis a fighting chance.

But that hadn’t been part of Mareleau’s plan. Not that getting captured had been either…

“Then come to me now,” Darius said. “Surrender to me and you, your husband, and your son can live.”

“Don’t believe him!” Larylis ground out.

Silence echoed back. Then footsteps. They grew nearer and nearer with every thundering beat of Larylis’ heart.

“Don’t, Mare,” Larylis called. “Go back!”

She didn’t pay his words any heed. Instead, she emerged from the cavern just ahead, Ferrah behind her, their son in her arms. She trembled from head to toe. “I surrender.”

Tears poured down Mareleau’s cheeks as she approached her enemy. She’d never seen him before, but she knew the gray-haired man was Darius. Her nemesis. Larylis was at the mercy of another man’s blade.

Her shoulders quivered, arms convulsing as she wrapped them tighter around Noah’s sling. A sob broke from her lips. “Don’t hurt him, please! I’ll do anything.”

Darius’ face broke into a grin that bore equal parts cruelty and amusement. She was everything he’d expected her to be. Weak. Trembling. Embarrassingly feeble.

It was exactly how Mareleau wanted to be seen right now.

Pride flared inside her, but she didn’t let it show. She kept it burning in her heart and poured more and more of her intent, her knowing , into her glamour.

Her trusty, unfailing magic trick.

She’d never felt stronger. Never been more certain of her abilities.

Even before she’d laid her eyes on Darius, she’d understood his character. What he wanted to see in her and what he most feared to see. That impression grew now as she met his gaze. Despite his belief that the Elvyn hated him for his human blood, he didn’t think any better of his bloodline. He considered everyone to be beneath him. He certainly had no respect for a pampered princess-turned-queen who’d been given a life of luxury.

Now he saw what he’d expected all along, and she played into that.

She wore a mask of frail obedience as she stepped closer and closer to him.

“Stop,” he said. “Order the dragon to stay back.”

Of course he would make that demand. So long as Ferrah kept her distance, she couldn’t harm Darius without risking Mareleau and Noah too. With a sniffle, she faced the opalescent dragon. “It’s all right,” she said, tone simpering. “Stay where you are.”

Ferrah splayed her wings but obeyed.

Good. That meant the dragon would listen to her after all.

You understand the next part too, right? she conveyed, but she received no answer. She and Ferrah weren’t bonded like Cora and Valorre. Even though she’d explained what she needed Ferrah to do for her, she could only hope her instructions had made it through.

Darius’ lips spread wider as Mareleau proceeded closer to him. She was halfway there when she stopped, her knees trembling. His expression darkened. “Come the rest of the way. Give me the child and relinquish your role as regent.”

She fell to her knees, unable to hold herself up anymore.

At least, that was what her glamour displayed. Gods, for once in her life it felt good to be underestimated.

Weak . She poured her intent into her glamour. Feeble. No one to fear. The most pathetic creature you’ve ever seen .

“Give me the child.” His voice was chillingly gentle.

She heaved another body-shaking sob and extended an empty, pleading hand.

Slowly, he closed the distance between them, then crouched before her. She cradled Noah’s sling tighter to her as she met Darius’ eyes. A soft smile lifted his lips but it didn’t meet his eyes. “Hush, hush, Your Majesty. It will be all right.”

More tears gushed from her eyes. Her empty hand found his coat collar. She grasped it like a woman devoured by grief, seeking anything to steady her. He extended his hands toward the bundle she cradled so tightly, so lovingly.

Her lower lip wobbled, eyes turned down at the corners as she held his gaze with a pleading look. “Promise me,” she whispered.

He nodded, impatience tightening his false smile. “Anything,” he said through his teeth, one hand clawing at the lavender swaddling inside the sling.

“Promise me…” she said again as she aided his efforts, lifting the bundle from inside.

Her fingers clenched his collar tighter while her other hand emerged from the sling. With her fist wrapped tightly around one of the hidden talons, she plunged the weapon into his gut. His eyes went wide as the tine sank into his flesh. She pushed harder, deeper. He finally had the sense to try to dislodge her, but she clung with all her might to his coat, their bodies almost flush.

“Promise me,” she said, her glamour falling away, her sorrow twisting into monstrous, bottomless, victorious rage, “that my face will be the only thing you see when you rot in eternal hell, you arrogant piece of shit.”

She twisted the talon, then shouted her final command.

“Ferrah!”

With a piercing screech, heat encircled them in a violet blaze. Mareleau kept her eyes open, drinking in the terror that contorted the face before her. It was a beautiful sight, in all its repulsive, savage glory.

If this was the last thing she ever saw, she’d be satisfied with that.

She watched his skin boil and char, his eyes melt from their sockets. Until the purple flame pulsed too bright. Too hot. Until her mind grew hazy, her breaths short and sharp.

Only then did she release her enemy.

Only then did she succumb to death.