Soldiers, in the same silver armor I’d seen crawl throughout the lowlands of Vordane a few years ago, ran to and from the burning eruption of stone and mortar. Many laid dead from both sides, their armored remains akin to gleaming flowers that spotted the land for miles in either direction beneath the moon.

Though victory had evidently been met, the sounds of battle still raged on.

It was not victory they sought. It was vengeance. There was little to celebrate until the last living royals of Wistensia were no longer, and the entire isle was free of fae.

Which was why Silver had said to hurry. Somehow, they still lived.

The dungeon was empty and overflowing with rock and dust. Warping, I continued my search, hoping I wasn’t seen by anyone else after needing to burry my dagger in the throats of two unlucky assholes who’d been injured and trying to escape a hall they’d been trapped in.

The king was in the throne room, crouched over a fallen body.

The body of a female stuck beneath a pillar.

Her eyes were closed. Blood pooled beneath her like a bed of crimson to cushion her over the stone.

Carelda.

Before I could reach her to remove the pillar, Rorn stood and stopped me. “She’s already gone.”

I cursed, twisting to better see every destroyed angle of the room as a bone-trembling boom sounded from outside the tower. “You need to get out of here.” Truth be told, I didn’t care if Rorn lived or died. I’d ceased harboring such hatred toward him the moment I knew that despite all of his monstrous efforts, I’d won a battle I’d never known I was fighting.

But he had a son. He had a duty to a land he’d gone to great lengths to ensure remained his to control.

Rorn didn’t move. He held his son close and hushed him when he squealed in fright. Inhaling his dark hair, he asked me with far too much calm considering the circumstances, “She is well?”

Now was not the time to rub anything in, so I merely nodded.

The king’s smile was tremulous yet genuine, as he swallowed and nodded in return.

He kissed his son’s head, his eyes closing momentarily, then said, “I should not ask anything of you, I know, but my son…” He smoothed a hand over his head. “He is your blood, and Astrantia has love for him.” He pushed him into my chest, and the tiny cub reared back to get a better look at me.

Stunned, I caught him before he could fall and held him tight.

“I do not expect the same of you, Helvectus, but I know your mate will love him as he deserves to be loved.”

“Rorn,” I started, shifting to the side and covering the young male’s head as rock crumbled above us.