Page 70 of Reign of Stars and Fire

I fell to my knees, unable to stand any longer.

“You don’t want me to grant her fear,” said the Nightrender.

“I want her heart in my damn hands.”

She could have it. There was nothing left. Pulpy and sore. If Ari was gone, I’d live with a sliver of a heart anyway. What I would do to return to the chill of emptiness. To avoid this agony.

“Elise. She fears the death of Ari.”

There were a few grunts, a few clashes of blades against blades, then two arms heaved me up from beneath my shoulders. Cuyler held me against his chest protectively while Gorm and a line of blood fae watchers stepped in front of us.

“Ari,” I gasped, clinging to Cuyler’s arms. “He’s . . . he’s gone.”

My face pinched in a twisted agony. I let out a burst of anguish, hardly caring if anyone ran me through.

“He’s not, My Queen. He’s not. He plays games with your mind, nothing more.”

I blinked through the haze of tears. By the hells.

The Nightrender stood beside Elise. Silky black eyes turned to narrow slits, his head covered in a cowl. With one hand he tossed back the hood, head tilted, and studied me with a befuddled expression.

“Threaten my queen,” Gorm said, leveling a blade toward Elise, “then you will not live long.”

Elise didn’t even flinch, but there was a twitch to her lip, a quick peek at me, as if she weren’t certain who Gorm meant. Much like Elise didn’t waver, Gorm didn’t even startle when two axe blades crossed at the back of his neck.

Valen grinned with a gruesome darkness. “And threatening my wife is the swiftest way to loseyourlife, fae.”

What a damn sight. Me, in shambles, the Northern queen stalwart, ready to bring war while her king held death at the head of Lord Gorm. Ari would laugh about this for days if he were here.

The Nightrender closed a fist. The terror of seeing Ari’s lifeless body on a funeral pyre slithered from my mind. I slid from Cuyler’s grip to my knees, gasping.

“Enough! By the hells, can you not contain yourselves for a few damn days before you’re waging wars?” From the burrow, Niklas stepped through. Next, Junius and Ash.

“Kase!” Ash beamed and sprinted for his king as though nothing was amiss. “I saved their queen when we first showed up!”

The Nightrender blinked and the pitch of his eyes brightened to a gilded green.

Junius took in the line of raised blades. “Really, Kase?”

“How is this my fault?” he grumbled. “I came to find you sods since it’s been dead silent from anyone on these bleeding isles, and we got attacked. I’ll be damned if I sit back and just take it.”

“Attacked?” Gunnar helped Eryka from the tunnel.

“Gunnar!” A woman shoved through the crowd.

I knew her. She was strong and slight with auburn waves braided off her face. The quiver of arrows rattled on the strap across her back. Gunnar’s mother.

Herja Ferus had her arms around Gunnar’s neck in another breath “Where have you been?”

“Maj, we have a great deal to explain, but not here.”

His mother either didn’t catch his tone or ignored him before she kissed the prince twice on his cheeks, studying his face, then drifted to Eryka and embraced her.

A man, broad and with an uncanny resemblance to Gunnar, followed close behind her. Gunnar’s father clapped his son on the back, jaw tight. The worry he hid spilled through the relief in his gaze.

“This is not good.” Eryka rubbed her forehead, eyes like white smoke. “Within a snake’s mouth lies a key to the past. Beyond the gates of stars resides the final task.”

Gunnar tugged her against his side and her trance snapped. Eryka was a bright soul, but her expression grew troubled, and she buried her face into Gunnar’s chest.