Page 52

An ominous stillness hung over us as we positioned ourselves atop the mountain overlooking the castle.

Below, palace soldiers lined the ground in rigid formation, their weapons gleaming in the faint light.

They were ready for us. Ready to meet us.

Ready to kill us. Even the air seemed afraid to move, not a single breeze daring to interrupt the tension between the opposing forces.

Clay strode toward me, his hair mussed and shadows dark beneath his eyes. Despite his command that we all rest before the battle, he hadn’t slept. He’d spent every second visiting the injured, refining battle strategies, issuing orders. And yet, even now, he moved with sharp, unyielding focus .

When he reached me, he didn’t hesitate. His hands framed my face as he pulled me into a kiss—desperate and consuming. I melted into him, momentarily forgetting what we were about to do.

When he pulled back, his golden eyes searched mine, as though memorizing every detail. “Keep her safe,” he said to Iris over my shoulder, his voice hard and commanding.

Then his gaze softened as he spoke to me. “I’ll see you in my chambers when this is all over, princess.”

“Count on it,” I whispered, trying—and failing—to keep my voice steady.

He was gone as quickly as he came, tearing his shirt from his body before shifting. Wings erupted from his back, his form expanding as he soared into the sky. His battle cry split the silence, a feral sound that echoed over the valley.

From her perch atop a rock, Iris scoffed. She twirled a long blade between her fingers, the ruby in its hilt catching the light. “You’re the Goddess here. He should tell you to protectme.”

I raised a brow. “Do you need me to protect you?”

She scoffed again, brushing off her pants. “Of course not.”

There was a time when I would have teased her, when she would have smacked my arm and grinned. But those days were gone. The ease between us had fractured.

Another roar from Clay tore through the sky, a feral command that sent shivers racing down my spine.

That was the cue.

It was time.

I met Iris’ gaze, seeing that same tension in her eyes.

The world froze.

And then …

“Charge!” Rankor’s voice thundered, cutting through the stillness like a blade. He spurred his horse into a gallop, the sound of pounding hooves reverberating through the earth.

Kent surged forward at his side, his twin swords gleaming in the faint light. The soldiers behind them shouted out in a chorus of defiance and desperation as our rebellion hurtled toward the enemy echoed their cries.

The clash was cataclysmic.

The ground trembled beneath the weight of two armies colliding, the force of it rattling through my chest. Fire rained down in molten streams as Clay dove from the heavens, his massive wings cutting through the sky, his flames consuming the enemy in searing waves.

The air filled with acrid smoke and the metallic tang of blood, stinging my nose and burning my throat.

The sound was pure chaos.

Steel met steel with shrieking ferocity, the clash of blades ringing out like thunder. Screams of pain and rage mingled with the guttural cries of men fighting for survival. Horses reared and whinnied in panic, their hooves striking the ground with desperate force.

And above it all, Clay’s roars reverberated through the battlefield, primal and unrelenting.

It wasn’t just noise. It was carnage given a voice.

I clung to the sight of him, a fiery beacon in the chaos, his golden scales gleaming as he unleashed destruction from the skies.

But even his immense power couldn’t drown out the horrors below—soldiers falling beneath the weight of axes, arrows finding their marks, and bodies crumpling into the dirt, never to rise again.

Beside me, Iris’s sharp eyes flickered across the battlefield, her blade steady in her hand as if she thrived in this chaos. “Don’t freeze up,” she said, her voice low but commanding. “Focus. Stay sharp.”

My pulse thundered in my ears, and my fingers tightened on the reins of my horse. “How do you do this?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the cacophony.

She didn’t look at me right away. When she did, her expression was unreadable. “You don’t think about it. Just move. Fight. Survive.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words anchoring me as the battle surged around us. This wasn’t just war. This was survival—messy, brutal, and unforgiving.

And if we didn’t move soon, it would devour us whole.

I hesitated, and Iris must have sensed it because, for the first time, her voice softened. “Thea.”

I turned toward her, and for a moment, she looked like she was about to say something. Something important.

“Promise me everyone we love will get through this,” I pleaded.

She went still.

I saw the battle reflected in her eyes—the blood, the bodies, the fire raining from above. I saw the weight of everything she had lost. Everything she had suffered.

And I saw the moment she realized she couldn’t lie to me.

Her silence was heavier than any reassurance could have been.

At last, she spoke, her voice quieter than before. “I can’t do that.”

A lump formed in my throat.

Before I could respond, she straightened and nudged me toward my horse. “Come on. Get ready.”

In front of us, a path was forming, a narrow space traveling from our position to the palace.

I swung myself into the saddle, the leather cold beneath my fingers. Iris followed, pulling herself atop her mount with practiced ease. Around us, the other members of the Order formed a sharp V formation, their movements precise. Iris and I remained at the center .

She turned to me one last time.

“Follow me,” she instructed, her voice steady and authoritative. “No magic, unless your life depends on it. Stay alert. And try to stay alive.”

It was the closest thing to I still care about you I was going to get.

With that, she spurred her horse forward, and we surged down the hill into the chaos of war.