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Chapter Thirty Four

“ F orm a perimeter!” Kent commanded, leaping off his horse with practiced ease. “Archers, find the high ground. I don’t want anyone within a mile of this property!”

The grounds of Hyrax Manor were pure chaos. Soldiers scrambled to find their newly assigned posts, women and children hurried into the house, and men hauled weapons from massive caravans. Iris and Rankor strode toward us, their expressions grim, as Kent continued barking orders.

“What’s happened?” Clay demanded, his voice cutting through the din with unflinching authority.

“Your father,” Iris panted, her chest heaving with exertion. “He knows Thea took Camilla, and he knows about the rebellion. He’s readying for war.”

Clay’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t falter.

Without hesitation, he ushered us into the manor and into the nearby study, slamming the door shut behind Kent, Elaina, and Camilla.

Disarray filled the room—maps and parchment lay scattered across the worn wooden table, and books lay in chaotic piles on the shelves.

Bracing his hands against the tabletop, Clay leaned forward, his shoulders taut with tension.

“How?” he growled. “Who flipped? ”

Iris shook her head, stray tendrils of red hair escaping her intricate braid. “Hardly anyone knew. This was already in motion before we started spreading word about making our move.”

“The civilians?” Clay pressed, his tone sharp and unyielding.

“Your father’s started killing anyone he suspects of being a sympathizer,” Kent spat, his crossed arms emphasizing the menace of the twin swords strapped to his back. “No trials, no interrogations—just swinging blades. We got out as many as we could and brought them here.”

“He’s acting like a madman,” Rankor rumbled as Elaina moved to tend a gash on his arm, her hands steady and focused. “More than usual, anyway.”

I stared at the table, the weight of Rankor’s words settling uneasily in my gut. When I finally lifted my eyes, they locked with Camilla’s. The same horrid realization flickered in her gaze, and she gave me a subtle nod.

“No one told him,” I breathed, the resignation in my voice palpable. “It’s Pasnia. She’s at the castle.”

Clay straightened, gaze sweeping over me as his mind worked out what I was suggestion. His expression darkened. “She’s infecting him with madness.”

An eerie silence, thick with tension and fear, fell over the room.

“That’s... not good,” Rankor muttered.

“Believe me,” Camilla murmured, her voice low and haunted. “It’s worse than you could imagine.”

Iris’ glare shot toward Camilla, but for once, she said nothing. There was no time for bickering, not with the fate of the Mortal Realm teetering on the edge.

“Did you find the book?” Kent asked quietly, his voice tense.

I shook my head. Even if Nikolai had started looking right after we left, there was no time to hope for it. “We have to go into this without it.”

“And what?” Camilla asked sharply, her frustration bubbling over. “Just pray she doesn’t have it already? ”

Elaina reached for her, attempting to calm her, but Camilla shrugged her off. “Am I the only one who thinks this feels like a trap?”

“You would know,” Iris snapped, her words cutting like a blade.

Clay shot Iris a warning glare, and she turned away, rolling her eyes heavily.

Camilla was right, though, even if Iris didn’t want to admit it. Even if none of us wanted to believe it. Pasnia wasn’t bothering to hide her involvement—she was practically daring us to come for her. A trap seemed inevitable.

And a Goddess wouldn’t lay a trap unless she was confident she could catch her prey.

“Trap or not,” Clay said firmly, his tone brooking no argument, “we can’t just let our people die. If we stay here, they’ll come for us, anyway.”

The room fell into a tense silence as we collectively took a moment to breathe, steeling ourselves for the inevitable battle ahead.

I’d known this was coming, but somehow I still thought we’d have more time.

I stared at each of my friends in turn, taking in every detail of their somber faces as if it was the last time I would see them.

“What’s your command, Your Grace?” Kent asked, his voice polished and formal.

“Majesty,” I corrected instinctively, the word slipping from my lips before I could stop it.

The room turned toward me, confusion etched across their faces. Even Clay, who had so naturally taken command, frowned in surprise.

“You’re officially fighting for a new king,” I said, my voice resolute.

The revolution had begun.

Clay was our Dragon now .

The weight of my words settled over the room like a heavy shroud. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then a grin tugged at Rankor’s lips, followed by Iris’ knowing smirk. Even Kent gave a slight, satisfied nod.

“Long live the king,” Iris quipped, her voice tinged with dark amusement.

C lay ordered Camilla to get the civilians settled and Elaina to tend to the injured before leading Iris, Rankor, and me outside.

Rankor brought us to a grizzled man with thick, carrot-colored curls.

His polished armor bore the scars of countless battles, and he greeted Clay and me with deep bows as we approached.

“This is Commander Harland,” Rankor introduced. “I’ve placed him in charge of logistics and troop movements.”

Clay nodded sharply, offering his hand. “Commander.”

Harland clasped it firmly. “It’s an honor to serve you, Your Grace.”

“Majesty,” Rankor corrected, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

Harland’s eyes darted to Rankor briefly before inclining his head. “Very well. Your Majesty, I’ve started coordinating with some of the men we brought from the villages surrounding the castle. We’ve got around two hundred fighters at your disposal, but they’re largely untrained.”

“They’ll have to do,” Clay said, releasing Harland’s hand. “How are our defenses?”

“I’ve set up supply lines and communication runners. I’ve also identified potential choke points around the manor to keep the civilians safe while we push toward the castle. ”

Clay’s gaze swept over the gathering forces, his jaw tight. This was a version of him I didn’t entirely recognize—a prince who had led legions to victory during the Great War.

“What about the cavalry?” he asked. “Do we have enough mounted fighters to break their front lines?”

“Around fifty riders,” Kent answered, joining us. “They’re capable, but I’d recommend sending scouts ahead to avoid ambushes.”

Clay nodded sharply. “Ranged support?”

“We stationed archers on the ridges around the manor,” Rankor told him, gesturing toward the high ground. “Not many, but they’re excellent shots.”

“Leave them to defend the perimeter here,” Clay instructed. “Harland, I want a full breakdown of our numbers, weapons, and supplies by nightfall. And scouts on every route to the castle.”

Harland nodded. “As you command, Your Majesty.”

We watched as the commander strode off, barking orders at the nearest group of soldiers.

“Do you trust him?” I asked Rankor, keeping my voice low.

His expression was uncharacteristically serious. “With my life. I fought with him during the Great War. He knows his way around a battlefield.”

Clay took a deep breath, a spark of determination lighting his golden eyes. “Good. We’ll need every edge we can get.”

“What now?” Iris asked, her tone clipped.

Clay’s lips pressed into a thin line as he considered.

“Let’s get inside. Everyone eats and rests.

Come nightfall, we ride. The cavalry will hit first by land, and I’ll attack from the sky.

Iris and the members of the Order that are loyal to us will stay back to protect Thea.

Thea only goes into the castle when I’m sure the pathway is safe. ”

I whipped my head toward him, my voice sharp. “What?”

“You heard me. ”

“I’ll be on the front lines,” I snapped.

Kent cleared his throat, exchanging a look with Iris and Rankor before jerking his head toward the gathering soldiers. “Let’s... uh... give them a minute.”

Rankor grinned faintly. “Good idea. Come on.”

Clay waited until they’d moved out of earshot before grabbing me by the arm and pulling me back toward the manor. “Thea—”

I yanked free, fire flaring in my chest. “I’m the deadliest weapon you have, and you know it. Forcing me to stay behind is a waste of your resources.”

He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I also know that the last time you exhausted your magic, you were unconscious for two days.”

“I’m stronger now.”

His hand slid to the back of my neck, grounding me with a firm but gentle grip. “I know that, princess. You’re also the only one who stands a chance against Pasnia, though. If you burn yourself out on the battlefield, who will stop her?”

The reality of our situation crashed over me like a wave, cold and relentless. For a moment, all I could see was the image of Clay falling from the sky during the battle with the shadow beasts. Fear twisted in my chest. I couldn’t go through that again. “I don’t want to leave you.”

His eyes softened, his thumb brushing the base of my neck. “I know how to take care of myself.”

Maybe he could.

But only for so long.

If I didn’t successfully send Pasnia back to the Underworld, it was only a matter of time before they all died.

“What if I can’t stop her?” The question escaped me in a trembling whisper .

His lips brushed my forehead, lingering just long enough to steady me. “There’s no time to think like that, Thea. Right now, we just keep moving forward.”

He nodded toward the house, taking my hand in his and tugging me gently. “Come on. Let’s get you fed and in bed—as your king ordered.”

With a wry grin, I looked at him from the corner of my eye. “I think I might need some help falling asleep. I’m really on edge.”

Clay smirked and pulled me closer. “I think I know just the thing to help you relax.”

I ’d never been in battle before. Never seen war unfold from the battlefield. Never faced the possibility of saying goodbye to my friends without knowing if they would come back.