But she knew now, she did not have the luxury to lament her plight.

And she had long since ceased complaining, and not because it fell on deaf ears, but because the creature who was her companion terrified her to her core.

Neither of these mattered any longer, however.

For she felt the buzz.

His quickening.

And she was not prepared.

She had not come up with a plan to stop him.

And if she did not, all would be lost.

Chu of the Trusted

Guest Bedchamber, Sky Citadel, Sky Bay

AIREN

Chu woke her with a kiss on her neck.

He’d lit a lamp low on the other side of the bed so the light would not hurt her eyes, but he could watch them flutter as she gained consciousness.

Mm, those copper eyelashes.

Watching them, his hand went from where it was shaking her hip, down and in.

He toyed with her clit and she arched her neck.

“Chu,” she whispered sleepily.

“They amass,” he shared.

And he felt his lips curl as her head immediately turned, all business.

“My master teases,” she griped.

“My mouse walks, talks, breathes and sleeps a tease,” he returned.

Her eyes did a roll.

He removed his finger from her nub and leant in to touch his lips to hers.

When he pulled away, he ordered, “Up. We must position.”

She nodded.

Chu exited the bed one way.

His princess went the other.

Reginald, Royal Warden

Slán Bailey, Sky Bay

AIREN

His, as well as six other pairs of boots, echoed on the stone steps as they jogged down the stairs.

Reginald made the lower hall, turned right and saw them loitering about outside the open door to a cell.

All the men except one, who was on his arse on the floor, his back to the wall beside the open door, holding a bloodied cloth to his head, rivulets of red that had not been wiped up marring the ink he had chosen to tell his story on the left side of his face.

Reginald walked swiftly toward them and the guards milling about stepped away from the door, and in doing such, none of them met his eyes.

He said nothing as he went to the doorway of the cell.

There he stopped.

Looked.

And then drew in a deep breath.

King Gallienus lay motionless on his blood-soaked pallet, his throat an open maw.

Reginald followed the trail of the crimson which had dripped to the floor and run across it, nearly reaching the door.

He looked down and left.

The guard on his arse was struggling to take his feet.

“Stay seated,” Reginald grunted before he turned. The first man he saw, he ordered, “Get him to the bloody infirmary.”

That guard nodded and moved.

Reginald then caught the eyes of the next man. “She was found in the room?”