Page 21

Evelina

A breeze twisted Evelina’s hair around her face, whipping the strands wildly. But despite the chill, a sweat had begun to work its way onto her brow. Some color had already started to show in Willow’s face, her breathing less erratic and growing steadier by the hour.

Evelina walked outside to the back of the cabin to clean her bloodstained leathers and hang them out to dry. A sound broke through the trees, making her pause. It was loud enough that Evelina could place it almost immediately, catching the distant outline of three figures between the trees before she heard the whimpering of a man. She took a cautious step toward the tree line.

Another cry of pain was all it took for her feet to move. She ran through the forest, the cries getting louder until she was a few paces from the figures. She squinted, trying to make sense of the scene, then held back a gasp as she realized what was happening.

The cries weren’t of their soldiers in pain—it was a rebel, clothed in tattered cotton tunics and linen trousers, along with the dark runic weapons they wielded.

Evelina jumped behind a bundle of shrubs and lowered herself to the ground to stay hidden. The sunlight was fading, though she could still make out the unmistakable broad-shouldered Aegis commander, and the man standing beside him.

Daimon and Keir.

Both were facing her, though their eyes were trained elsewhere. Keir’s face was harsh, his mouth pressed into a thin line, but Daimon’s face was shrouded in shadows.

She had never seen him like this. He looked…deadly. Terrifying. A sharp smile stretched across his face and he tilted his head to the side, studying their hostage. He had a rope of shadows around the rebel soldier’s throat, binding him to a tree. With the evening sun illuminating the man’s face, she could see his veins popping and straining against the shadowy rope.

Daimon was choking him—yet he wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t questioning the rebel or demanding answers; he just stared down at him while his shadows tightened around the man’s neck.

Evelina’s chest began to expand rapidly. She pressed her hand against her mouth, masking her quickened breath. She knew the soldier was a rebel—the enemy that had threatened everything the empire had built over centuries. Her mind understood why they needed information from him, but it didn’t erase the nausea in her stomach.

Daimon had been closed off since arriving, his commander mask firmly in place. At first, she thought there was some of the boy she knew still left underneath.

But now she realized he was every bit the ruthless aerial commander he presented.

Daimon took a step toward the man. “Are you ready to talk now?” His voice was rougher than she had ever heard it, dark in a way that made her skin crawl.

The man immediately snarled when the shadows loosened around his throat, spit flying from his mouth. “ Fuck the crown and each and every Manor. ”

“Wrong answer.” Daimon’s shadows tightened once again, causing a gurgling sound to come from the man.

The rebel gasped for air, baring his teeth between short breaths. Slowly, the shadowy tendrils relaxed again. He coughed until blood dribbled down the side of his mouth.

“We follow our king,” he whispered hoarsely.

Keir burst into laughter. “You call your little rebel leader a king?”

The man lifted his gaze to him, his eyes hollow. A shiver crawled up Evelina’s spine.

“He will be king of all one day,” he spat.

Daimon crouched down to eye level with the soldier, catching a ray of setting light. His eyes were hardened and dark, nothing familiar in the gaze she once knew so well.

“He will be king of none,” Daimon whispered.

The soldier spat in his face. “May the empire die and a new king be reborn. May the land of the empire succumb to darkness. May every ounce of blood be drained from every Manor until their rule is over once and for all.”

Evelina could not help the gasp that escaped her. The rebel’s head snapped in her direction. His eyes widened in recognition, as if he could recognize a Manor by scent alone. He snarled and fought against his restraints.

Keir and Daimon whirled around, following his line of sight. Evelina rose, locking eyes with Daimon. He clenched his jaw and took a step toward her.

The rebel lurched forward, a torrent of fire gathering around him. Daimon twisted back toward him just as he shot the darts of fire directly at Evelina.

A wall of shadows formed in front of Evelina like a shield, covering her from sight. The rebel’s magic slammed into it, but the shield held firm, dissolving the fire into mere puffs of smoke. She had never felt Essence this strong; it radiated with anger.

She felt her own magic flare in answer to the protective magic around her, light drawn to shadows .

The wall was thin enough that she could partially see through it, just enough to see Daimon as he crouched down to the rebel. He placed his hand on his shoulder, as if the soldier wasn’t thrashing against the ties around his throat. Daimon held up his right hand, looking down at his fingers until a dagger made of darkness appeared in it.

The dagger writhed in his grip as tendrils of shadows wound around the blade—then he drove the point into the soldier’s chest.

The onslaught of the rebel’s magic halted against the shield in front of Evelina. His arms strained against the restraints of darkness he was still bound in, then went slack. Daimon held the man’s gaze as his life drained from his eyes.

Evelina heaved, her hand flying to her stomach as she willed herself not to throw up.

The last thread of hope she had that there was anything left of the boy she once knew snapped.