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L arylis fought, certain that his next breath would be his last. Part of him wasn’t sure he deserved another breath. Not after what he’d done. Not after the choice he was forced to make. One that ended in his father’s death. Still, he swung his blade. Whether he fought a man of flesh or a wraith of mist, every cut conjured visions of father’s ruined neck, his severed head, his lifeless eyes. He saw the pride, the trust, right before Larylis condemned him to die. It didn’t matter that it was what his father had wanted. All that mattered was that his voice had delivered the sentence. His words had driven the blade.

Part of him yearned to quit fighting, but somehow a fire remained kindled deep in his heart. It drove his arms to move when they were too fatigued to feel, planted his feet on the slick mud when all he wanted to do was sink to his knees and weep.

He fought that urge now as he battled a wraith. Their swords clashed again and again. Larylis’ reaction time was getting slower. His weapon heavier in his hand. But that ember still glowed. Still begged him to fight.

The wraith seemed to slow as well. It had already reanimated several times. Each time it reformed, its misty body took longer to condense into a humanoid form. He’d noticed it with other wraiths as well. The longer a wraith fought, and the more times it was felled, the more hampered it would become, as if the act of reanimating was too much work. The will to fight and die over and over too burdensome to bear. Larylis had already seen numerous wraiths wander off the field and disappear. Others simply refused to reanimate.

Larylis parried a particularly lethargic swing and swept his blade through the wraith’s middle. As it disappeared, he took the chance to assess his surroundings. The haze was still heavy where he fought, as a few of the tattooed vine-wielders battled wraiths nearby, sending new plumes of dirt into the air with every root they drew from the ground. He’d been terrified when he’d first seen them, certain they served the mage. But his fears were quickly assuaged. They were fighting against the duke and his men.

Nearby, he spotted Lex facing off against a mace-wielding wraith. The prince had joined the fray with the infantry charge and had fought with alarming tenacity ever since. He heaved and stumbled, but not once did he give up. Larylis wondered if the same persistent fire that kept him on his feet burned within Lex too.

A misty shape drew his attention. The wraith Larylis had been fighting began to reform in front of him, but he slashed through it before it could fully solidify. A strangled cry rang out, pulling his attention to his surroundings once more. It didn’t ring with the same tenor as a yelp of injury or a grunt of strength. It was neither a battle cry nor a shout of vengeance or rage. Instead, it was a long wail of anguish. Terror. He squinted into the haze and saw a soldier fall to his knees and tear off his helm, his posture slumped. He wore the black armor of the duke’s men. His opponent, a soldier from Selay, went in for the kill. The other man held up his hands in surrender, falling on his back.

Another similar wail echoed elsewhere on the field. A man stumbled by, peeling off his plates of armor, eyes bulging as he stared at his surroundings as if seeing them for the first time.

A shiver ran down Larylis’ spine.

He forced his gaze back to the place where his wraith opponent would surely rise.

It didn’t. No matter how long he looked, the wraith didn’t return. He scanned the field around him. More bewildered soldiers stumbled past. Some fell to their opponent’s swords while others cried out to surrender. Still, others continued to fight, unplagued by whatever drove their comrades to confusion.

Larylis had no idea what was going on.

One thing was certain, though.

The wraiths were gone.

A screeching bellow echoed throughout the valley. Cora watched as the Roizan pressed its snout to the surface of the rock, sniffing, tasting. Then, with another piercing howl, it began to buck and thrash. Cora and Teryn backed farther away from the rock, their moves hampered by their respective injuries. Cora didn’t dare look away from the Roizan as crimson saliva frothed at its lips. It tossed its enormous head and scraped its front hooves over the rock. Howls turned to grunts. Grunts turned to whimpers.

Then it stilled.

The Roizan's head drooped as if suddenly too heavy for its shoulders. Its eyes closed, its hindquarters quavered. With a final tremor, it fell upon the rock with a rumbling thud. Its red skin began to blacken and char, burning everything from its snout to its tail to the ridge of white horns running along its spine. Fiery veins of red began to spiderweb through its charred flesh. The Roizan slowly opened its maw and released a deep moan. With a final breath, the body of the Roizan collapsed into a pile of ash.

Cora watched as a gust of wind stole some of the ash and sent it scattering over the field. Part of her expected the beast to reform, for Morkai to rise from his bloody remains. The longer she watched the more certain she became.

Morkai was gone.

Just as the duke had said, his magic was connected to the Roizan, and the Roizan’s life was bound to his. The duke’s death meant the end of the Roizan. An end to his well of magic. And—hopefully—a severing of Morkai’s control. Without the duke’s numerous glamours being fueled by the Roizan’s magic, those he’d been controlling should now be free.

That was her theory, at least.

Teryn let out a pained gasp. She whirled toward him, his name lurching from her lips. A spike of terror surged through her. He was badly injured and his wound was still bleeding. Thanks to Morkai, he’d already lost far too much blood. He swayed on his feet. She reached out to steady him, wincing at the pain in her leg. Her own injuries could wait. Without a second thought, she retrieved an arrow and slashed the head through the bottom of her cloak. It wasn’t as effective as a knife, but all her blades were still on the rock. The two the Roizan hadn’t eaten, that is.

With frantic fingers, she wrapped the strip of wool around his torso, relieved that the lesion over his ribs wasn’t worse. It was a jagged cut, both from the sword Morkai had struck him with and the armor that had bitten into his skin as a result. It certainly wouldn’t help that the strip of wool she’d bandaged him in was dirty. At least it would slow the bleeding before he could get to a field surgeon.

Once the wound was wrapped, she stilled her fingers and lifted her eyes to his. He stared down at her with a thoughtful expression. One that made her breath hitch. She realized now that they hadn’t been this close since he’d tricked her with a kiss. Nor had they exchanged a word since then either. When she’d seen him fighting Morkai, her only thoughts had been to save him, protect him, defend him. Their last meeting hadn’t mattered, nor had his betrayal or their kiss or any of the other conflicting emotions she felt around him. But now…

Her cheeks warmed as she noticed her hand was still pressed to his chest. Over the other side of his ribs. Beneath his heart. She was about to lift her palm when his hand closed over hers.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice a quavering whisper. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, his touch so soft it almost made her shudder.

“Teryn,” a male voice called out from nearby.

Cora slid her hand from under his and took a step back.

Teryn slowly angled his body to face the figure that ran toward them. Cora recognized the man from his presence at the negotiation. His resemblance to Teryn made it easy to guess who he was.

“Larylis,” Teryn said, voice heavy with relief. The two embraced with the affection of brothers. Cora, feeling like an interloper, took another step back. She stifled a cry as her heel caught on something in the grass. Shifting her weight more evenly over her uninjured leg, she glanced down at what had nearly caused her fall. There, almost hidden amongst the overturned earth and muddy grass, was a long, slender blade. An amber crystal lay beside it, broken off from the hilt. She bent down and gingerly lifted the crystal. Her palm thrummed against its cold facets. A murky energy pounded against her hand, turning her stomach. She nearly dropped it when she noticed red dripping from the bottom of it.

Blood.

Was the crystal where Morkai had stored the blood he’d stolen?

Swallowing down the bile that rose in her throat, she prepared to throw the crystal into the pile of ash. Then something caught her attention. Some swirling movement behind the amber facets. Her palm thrummed again, this time sensing a new energy. It wasn’t dark or murky but…different.

A hand fell softly on her shoulder. She bit back a gasp and shoved the crystal into an inner pocket of her cloak. Teryn gave her a sad smile. “Larylis, this is Cora.”

Larylis gave her a solemn nod. “Lex told me about you.”

Teryn furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, Lex told you?”

“He came to Dermaine to warn us about the duke’s true intentions, then joined our entourage when we left for Centerpointe Rock. He fought with our forces.”

Cora and Teryn exchanged a befuddled glance. The last time they’d seen Lex, he’d taken Morkai’s deal.

“He’s apparently a master of deception,” Larylis said. He gave a humorless laugh, one in contrast with the sorrow in his eyes.

It reflected her own sorrow as she looked past the two men to the field beyond, where bodies lay strewn about. Horns bellowed from the east, signaling Khero’s retreat. Morkai’s death couldn’t be widespread yet, but it was clear the tide had turned. The duke’s magic had been severed.

It’s over . She felt Valorre’s words. Glancing around, she sought sight of him to no avail.

It is , she conveyed. Where are you?

Close. Your people flee back to the hillside. Will you go with them?

She turned toward the hill where the Forest People had hidden the last few days, but the haze was still too thick to make out any retreating forms. Extending her senses, she felt them near. The survivors at least. Salinda had made it. Roije too, although she sensed him only faintly. Her chest tightened at the knowledge that some of the Forest People had died today and more still could from injuries. Because of her.

Because we had to do what was right , she reminded herself.

She imagined how the battle would have gone without the Forest People’s aid. The wraiths would have overpowered Selay’s and Menah’s forces if not for the roots and vines that tore through the specters with ease.

“What is it?” Teryn asked, his fingertips lightly brushing against hers.

She met his eyes and felt as if her heart were suddenly torn in two. Valorre’s question echoed through her mind.

Your people…will you go with them?

The Forest People had fought at her side. They’d intervened with royal affairs in the name of protecting fae magic. But were they truly her people? Or were the citizens of Khero?—

A dreadful realization sent her heart skittering.

“Dimetreus!” She whirled toward where she’d seen him last. There were too many bodies. Too many figures still darting across the field, some in retreat, some in combat. Finally, she spotted the dead stallion. Not far from it, a cluster of soldiers stood. She began limping in that direction. An arm caught hers and helped her forward. She flushed as she glanced to the side, expecting to find Teryn.

Instead, it was Larylis. “Let me help you.”

Disappointment struck her. Of course it wasn’t Teryn. Teryn was injured. He walked slightly ahead of them, his gait uneven, his hand pressed against his bandaged ribs. “King Verdian,” Teryn called.

A man turned around, and Cora recognized the King of Selay. His eyes widened. “Prince—” He cleared his throat. “ King Teryn. You’re alive.”

“I am.”

The king shifted his stance, his posture stiff. Cora sensed guilt wafting off of him. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Teryn accepted the king’s condolences with a nod.

Verdian’s jaw shifted side to side. Lifting his chin, he said in a somewhat begrudging tone, “It will be an honor if you’d take my daughter as your bride when we return home.”

A jolt of something fiery sparked in Cora’s chest. She breathed it away, forcing her attention from Teryn to the group of soldiers who still stood in a cluster near the felled horse. One turned around. “Your Majesty, the traitor king is awake.”

Cora’s heart leapt into her throat as she watched the men part to reveal her brother. His eyes darted wildly about as he tried to rise from his knees. A soldier had Dimetreus’ arms behind his back and kicked him in the shoulder to keep him down.

A strangled sound left her brother’s lips. “What’s happening? Where…where…” He blinked several times and shook his head. “A nightmare. No, a nightmare.”

Cora surged forward. “Dimetreus!” Another soldier stepped before her, shoving a gauntleted hand out to halt her progress. She hobbled back, eyes darting from the soldier to her distressed brother.

“Who the hell is this?” came King Verdian’s sharp tone. Cora met his gaze and found cold eyes looking back at her.

“This is Princess Aveline,” Teryn said, coming up beside her.

Verdian let out a bark of humorless laughter. “The dead princess brought back to life?” He scanned her until his eyes landed on her tattooed palms. His lips curled in disgust. “She’s a witch. Like the others. The ones with the…vine sorcery.”

“The witches fought with us,” Teryn said, voice surprisingly calm.

Verdian spread out his arms, glancing exaggeratedly from side to side. “Then where are they now?”

Teryn’s tone darkened. “Princess Aveline killed the duke.”

The king gave him a patronizing look. “Princess Aveline is dead, Majesty.”

“Aveline?” The voice was weak, trembling.

Cora met Dimetreus’ eyes. They were no longer cast beneath a glossy sheen. They were still shadowed with dark circles and lined with creases that belied his age. Proof that Morkai’s death didn’t immediately return his well-being.

“Dimi, it’s me,” Cora said.

“She’s working with the traitor,” Verdian said. “Take her too.”

The soldier with the upraised palm darted forward but Teryn stepped in front of her.

“Out of the way, Majesty,” Verdian said through his teeth.

“She’s no criminal,” Teryn argued. “And she’s injured.”

The king raised his brows and glanced briefly at Teryn’s torso. “So are you. We need to get you to a surgeon.”

“Just let Cora go.”

“Cora,” Verdian echoed. “I thought she was Princess Aveline .” He said the last part with clear mocking.

“She is,” Teryn said, his voice tinged with desperation. “Did Lex not tell you?”

The king denied it at the same moment Larylis said, “He told me .”

“Just let her explain,” Teryn said.

Verdian shook his head. “If she really is who she says she is, she can come with us willingly and explain during questioning.” He leaned to the side and met Cora’s gaze.

Fiery rage flooded her core. She spotted her discarded bow, left beside the stallion when she’d been knocked down. Her quiver was still strapped to her back. She could dive for her bow, fight her way out. Or…

She glanced at the hillside where the Forest People were waiting. Where Valorre was waiting.

Your people…will you go with them?

She could close her eyes and try to do what she’d accomplished earlier. She hadn’t had the opportunity to revel in what she’d done. Somehow, she’d managed to step across time and space. One moment, she was trapped under the horse. In the next, she was on the rock.

Her body flooded with calm. Perhaps she could do it again. Morkai was dead. Her mission was complete. She could leave this all behind. If the Forest People wouldn’t have her back, then she and Valorre could go out on their own?—

“Aveline,” Dimetreus cried out again. “What…what has happened?”

Her gaze slid back to her brother.

Questions invaded her mind. What would happen to Khero now? The other kingdoms saw Dimetreus as a traitor. An invader. Cora couldn’t call him fully innocent, for she still felt the ghost of resentment clawing her heart. But he didn’t know what was happening. He might not remember anything between now and when Morkai had first begun manipulating his mind. How could he defend himself and explain what Morkai had done if he didn’t understand any of it?

She was reminded of something she’d said to herself only days ago.

If my brother can’t protect Khero, that leaves only me .

Her shoulders slumped, her fingers unclenched to hang open at her sides. She thought not of the hillside and the freedom that beckoned her nor the bow that demanded blood. Instead, she met Verdian’s hard stare with defiance. She stepped out from behind Teryn, doing her best not to limp or wince. “I am Princess Aveline,” she said. “I will go with you and provide whatever proof you require. You will hear me out and you will give my brother a chance to defend himself.”

Verdian’s face slackened with surprise but he quickly steeled it. “Very well,” he said. “Take the traitor and the supposed princess.”

“Treat them as befits royalty,” Teryn added, his voice firm. The voice of a king. He stared at the soldiers, gaze unflinching, daring any of them to contradict him.

Verdian released a grumbling sigh. “Get King Teryn to a surgeon.” The king strode away, his final order sending the soldiers into a frenzy of movement. Two men took Cora by each of her arms.

“Treat her well,” Teryn called. She could no longer see him through the commotion, and his voice sounded farther away now. As the soldiers hauled Dimetreus to his feet, she finally caught sight of Teryn. He was being escorted away by far gentler hands. Glancing over his shoulder, he met her eyes and gave her a small nod. She felt his reassurance. His worry. His unspoken apology tinged with a promise—he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

A voice crept into her awareness. Shall I fight them? Valorre’s unseen nearness filled her with a steadying warmth.

No. I’m going with them willingly.

Then I’ll go too .

You can’t , she said. We don’t know what they’ll do to a unicorn .

His energy rippled with something like a scoff. They will not see me. But I will follow. I’ll be near. I go where you go now .

Her lips curled into a small smile, fueling her strength as she let the soldiers lead her to the western side of the field. Despite her aching leg, her fatigue, and the storm of questions that tangled in her mind, she kept her head held high. Kept her shoulders back.

Whatever came next, she’d be the princess she needed to be.