Page 7 of Return of the Darkness (The Lost Kingdom Saga #3)

Soren took off at a run towards the vine bridge expertly crafted on the eastern side.

To her left, Seiko howled as the rest of the pack pulled into formation on either side of her, protecting Soren from all angles.

She shoved past the soldiers waiting to step foot on Sadira’s bridge and moved with unwavering certainty, rushing across to the island, where the battle was in full swing.

As soon as they touched sand again, Baelyn and Tapesh ripped into the exposed legs of two copper soldiers, sinking their teeth behind their knees and tearing through the flesh.

When the soldiers fell, the shadows descended, blanketing them momentarily before they rose once again.

Up close to the action, Soren struggled to see.

Flashes of copper and darkness swarmed her vision in amongst blood as her wolves continued their path of destruction.

She considered swiping a breastplate from a fallen soldier, like she had before, to allow quicker entry through the battle.

She remembered the black veins creeping from the wounds of the fallen in the first skirmish, slayed by Sadira’s imbued weapons.

Was that a sign the sword had claimed them?

She had little time to check the wounds of the fallen, to determine precisely how Elisara’s shadow soldiers took the lives of Caligh’s men.

Could he really control this many people at once?

Soren stumbled at another memory—she and Caligh stood in a clearing, shadows still hiding his identity whilst her youthful face hid the atrocities she was capable of.

Varna nuzzled her side, keeping her upright as Soren pushed her braids from her face and rested her hand on the wolf’s back for balance.

She drew her hand back at the wetness on Varna’s snow-white fur, now streaked with blood.

Any thoughts of her plan vanished. Soren stooped and ran her hands through Varna’s fur, searching for the wound.

Only when she found none did Soren’s breathing even.

The blood was simply a marking of her victories.

Seiko nudged her from the side before she heard the whines of Baelyn, Tapesh, Octavia, and Serene.

The pack circled her amid the sound of clashing metal.

The copper soldiers fought not only Elisara’s shadows but now Novisia’s soldiers, who had breached the island.

“Get up!” A gruff voice shouted from her right.

Soren glanced around, remembering herself.

She looked up at Sir Cain. “I may not like you, but you’re one of our best fighters.

” He drove his sword through the gap in a soldier’s armour and shoved the fallen body off his weapon.

“Get the fuck up!” he yelled, spinning in the opposite direction.

The wolves stalked forward, forging a path for Soren towards the centre.

Elisara’s army blocked her path. Would they know Soren’s intention if she tried to break through?

She had no time to think as a rope of shadow she knew all too well pierced through the line of defence.

Soren did not hear Elisara scream this time; she no longer knew where she was.

How close were they to reaching Caligh? As the soldiers dissipated, Soren saw her opening.

A small gap between the last line of copper soldiers offered a view of Caligh, controlling the darkness. Elisara and Nyzaia were not there.

But Tajana was. Her old friend knelt and draped her leather wings around her like a weight, cocooning her until only the crown of her head was visible.

Osiris frowned and rolled back his shoulders, glancing between Caligh and Tajana to check if he was watching.

Quickly, Osiris loosened his grip on the chain around Tajana’s neck and rested a hand on her shoulders to pull them back until the wings no longer consumed her, the tips resting behind her on the sand as Tajana hung back her head with relief.

A moment later, Osiris resumed his rigid stance, like he had not moved or helped at all.

With the wings no longer obscuring Tajana’s face, the tears streaming down her dirt-ridden cheeks were clear to see.

Soren rushed into the opening and opened her mouth to scream Tajana’s name.

Even with her blackened heart, Soren wished to reassure her friend she had come to save her.

The chain in Osiris’s hand was suddenly in Arik’s as he rushed forward in a blur of black, blocking Soren’s advance.

Finely tailored black covered him from head to toe, except for his visible face and hands, revealing skin much paler than Soren’s.

His hair was just as dark and tied back low.

Everything about him was pristine, except for the scar starting midway down his cheek and ending beneath the high neck of his collar.

He stared Soren down, the amber rings around his irises a splash of colour amid the darkness.

Judging by his appearance, he likely aligned with Caligh, blending into the shadows.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” His tone was hushed, his meaning unclear.

“Not if you truly want to end up dead.” Osiris angled his head in Caligh’s direction, who turned to survey his surroundings.

He had not yet seen Soren’s arrival or watched her rush to Tajana’s aid.

Foolish. She was foolish to have placed someone above him.

When Caligh’s shadows cleared, he finally noticed Soren, who glanced around cautiously for prying eyes.

She was ready to kneel and apologise for her failures, begging for his forgiveness, when she spotted the flaming wings circling above.

If Farid was near, so were Nyzaia and Elisara.

Her steps faltered, and she stilled, watching the shadowed guard tower above the army.

To his left, a determined Elisara moved, her face etched with fury.

She was three lines of soldiers away from reaching the centre, where Soren faced Caligh.

Nyzaia swung and brought down a soldier.

When he fell, their eyes met, and she furrowed her brow, glancing between Soren and Caligh.

This was it. This was the moment Soren either won her place by Caligh’s side or was named a traitor to the Garridon crown—to Novisia. Stay calm , her mind whispered. She reached for the pommel of her sword, angling it low in Caligh’s direction. He laughed.

“You are wiser than I thought, making it appear as though you are here to kill me while we talk.” Soren glanced around, but Nyzaia and Elisara were no longer there, swallowed by the shadowed army now blurring with Novisia’s.

The occasional copper soldier broke through the lines.

Caligh’s voice skated over Soren’s spine; what was once a gentle caress felt different now she knew his face.

Soren had never questioned the life lived by the Lord of Night; she had only ever wondered about their future.

But now, as she truly acknowledged his existence, she questioned his intentions.

What had led him down this path? He was old—centuries old, in fact—but his true face, not that of the Historian’s, was more youthful.

The dark stubble on his jaw had not greyed like his hair, and his scar-coated hands were not yet wrinkled. Who had inflicted such scars?

“Tell me, little bird. What do you desire from this conversation?” Slowly, Caligh circled Soren, constantly scanning the surrounding battle.

If he continued this path, Elisara and Nyzaia had no chance of making it here.

He was assessing every entry point. “From where I stand, you have failed at nearly everything I asked of you.” Soren winced.

“But you have always been so loyal, so unwavering in what I ask. Loyalty is hard to come by these days.” Osiris scoffed behind Soren, and Caligh narrowed his eyes and continued circling.

He paused behind her and stepped closer, slowly moving her braids aside until his breath tickled her ear.

“We could have been so successful, Soren.”

Could have. Soren opened her mouth to plead, but he shushed her, bringing a finger to her lips.

“You could have been Queen of Garridon or the queen of this entire kingdom. You could have taken Osiris’s place as the commander of my armies.

Perhaps I would have even made you my queen, if you had so desired.

” Soren froze, listening to all the power she craved.

A memory flashed through her mind of a young girl running carefree through the fields. Had she always wanted this?

“I did not fail you,” Soren whispered as Caligh trailed his hand over her braids and gripped the back of her neck.

“I separated them, as you asked. I separated Elisara and Kazaar during the battle. Had I not, you never would have reached or killed him.” She raised her voice, trying to plead her case in the hope he would change his mind.

Chuckling, Caligh stepped back.

“I suppose you’re right, little bird. You are the reason Kazaar Elharar is dead.

” Grinning, Caligh peered at something over Soren’s shoulder, his shadows grazing her cheek one last time.

When he stepped away, Soren turned to find Nyzaia across the sand, with Farid hovering above her.

Flames coated Nyzaia’s arms, her eyes ablaze.

“I’ll make you wish you were dead.” Nyzaia spat. Then, she lunged.