by S. M. Boyce
“We can hope.”
“A second wave of Hillsidians are inside the castle. I mean no offense, but I don’t think the Stelian army should be inside the walls. The civilians were distraught enough as-is.”
“I agree. It’s hard to understand how an army can go from killing you to protecting you in seconds.”
Fenner ran a hand through his hair. “Can I confess something?”
Braeden stared off into the woods but gestured for him to go ahead.
“I’m still not used to seeing you as a Stelian.”
“I know.”
“It’s not a—um—a bad thing, or…” Fenner trailed off.
Braeden hid a grin and continued picking at the tree bark. Maybe he could have fun with this.
A piece of bark jammed between his finger and fingernail. He flinched. A bead of black blood spread beneath the nail, but the pain subsided. His body had already healed.
He leaned back against the tree. He couldn’t make people uncomfortable. He was Stelian, and people like Fenner had been raised to attack Stelians on sight. This wouldn’t be easy to overcome. He would have to be patient and respectful to connect with those raised to hate his people. Minds didn’t change overnight, and he couldn’t resent others for it.
A crack echoed through the forest. Braeden sat upright and scanned the forest floor. Through the leaves, three people huddled in the middle of the path to the Hillsidian lichgate—two men and a blonde.
Braeden jumped from the branch and landed on both feet, careful to avoid Fenner. The visitors came into view, but his eyes went immediately to the blond woman holding a little red ball of fur that purred on her shoulder.
Her eyes went wide with surprise, but she laughed. He smiled.
Gavin and Richard stood on either side of her. Gavin’s back arched. He frowned, likely a reaction to Braeden’s Stelian form, but Richard grinned.
“Intimidating, I must admit,” Richard said.
“Thank you,” Braeden said with a grin.
“I don’t suppose you’d change back for old time’s sake,” Gavin muttered under his breath.
Kara smacked the king’s arm. He rubbed the impact site.
“Fine, fine,” Gavin said with a frown.
“Is your army on its way?” Braeden asked, hoping to change the topic.
Gavin nodded. “The Hillsidians and her isen”—his eyes darted to Kara—“are on their way.”
“That should be an interesting convoy,” Braeden mused.
“The isen I recruited seem to be getting along with the Hillsidian army,” Kara said with a shrug.
Gavin rubbed his jaw. “Even so, they will likely be another eleven hours, if not more. They can’t help us against Evelyn’s army.”
Braeden groaned, but he expected as much. “Where are Bloods Frine and Aurora?”
“They and Garrett are headed to Ayavel. They figure it will be more difficult to overtake, since Ayavelians are legendary for their defensive tactics. Not to mention they’ve likely changed the password for the central lichgate we all used to enter and exit.”
“That never was how it actually worked,” Braeden said.
“What?” Richard asked.
Braeden crossed his arms. “Soldiers filled the trees around the lichgate and unlocked it if someone used the correct password. If they didn’t want you to enter—correct password or no—I imagine they simply wouldn’t unlock the lichgate.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Gavin snapped.
Braeden shrugged. “It hasn’t been relevant until now.”
“Focus,” Kara said. Flick chirped in apparent agreement.
Gavin grumbled. “This is all a mistake. Evelyn wouldn’t do this to the alliance, not after hosting us for so long.”
“You mean you don’t think she’d do this to you,” Braeden corrected.
Gavin frowned and narrowed his eyes, the full intensity of his glare focused on Braeden. Rekindled friendship or no, Gavin could be a stubborn pain in the ass.
Braeden returned the stare. “It was a trap, Gavin. She lost her way, and she had no means of making us leave her kingdom. Carden and Deidre spun exactly the right lies to make her listen. She obeyed them.”
“Liar,” Gavin said under his breath.
“You’ll see for yourself.”
“I got an update from one of the vagabonds in her army,” Kara interjected.
“I’m glad some of her vagabonds survived,” Richard said.
She grimaced. “Only one did. He wrote a few words, but he mentioned they were moving at double time. After she saw Zimmermann’s red blood, she apparently forced every solider to prick his finger. Two vagabonds were killed. This one managed to smear his finger with a friend’s blood in time.”
Kara’s grip tightened around her arms. Her skin blanched around her fingertips, and a vein appeared in her forehead. Apparently, she could barely contain herself. Braeden set a hand on her back. Her body trembled beneath his touch.
“How long until she arrives?” Richard asked.
Braeden frowned. “At double time, my best guess is a little under six or seven hours. No one can keep such a pace for long. They’ll have to take breaks. Everything is in place and waiting for them.”
“I need to make sure everyone is all right,” Gavin said. He pushed past Braeden and marched toward the lichgate, back straight and chin high as he entered his kingdom. Hillsidian guards bowed as he passed, while several Stelians eyed the king and smirked.
Braeden grinned. Maybe he had more in common with his men than he originally thought.
A hand brushed Braeden’s elbow. He twisted back in time to catch Kara smile at him. A green glow pulsed beneath her skin and disappeared just as quickly.
He set his hands on her shoulders. “How are you holding up?”
Her smile faded. “I almost lost it when I read that Ayavelian vagabond’s entry.”
“You almost lost it just now, too.”
She nodded. Her grip on his arm tightened.
“I think you should sit this one out,” he said.
She paused, eyes on his and body completely still.
He rushed ahead, his voice a whisper. “What if you lose control? What if you kill Evelyn? All of Ayavel will die with her. We can’t risk it.”
He held his breath, prepared for a debate, but she nodded.
“I agree,” she said.
Flick nuzzled her cheek. She tapped his head with her finger.
She sighed. “I have to be so gentle. The lightest gesture can turn into something uncontrollable. I’m afraid to touch people. Did you see Gavin flinch when I smacked him? I was afraid I broke his arm.”
“I think you did, actually,” Braeden said with a laugh.
Richard frowned. “What’s going on?”
Braeden cleared his throat, but Kara answered.
“I’d rather we talk about it later.”
Richard crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
“Please, Richard,” she said.
His frown faltered, and he sighed. “But you’re all right? You both are?”
She nodded. “I simply need to rest.”
Braeden scratched his cheek. His stomach rumbled. A pang of hunger gnawed at his gut, but he shook his head to refocus. “Maybe you should go to the tunnels. The rest of the city is there.”
She frowned and leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. “What if I hurt them?”
Ah. Right.
“Why don’t you stay in my old room?”
Richard frowned again, but pressed his lips into a thin line as if to swallow his words.
“What, Richard?” Kara asked.
He lowered his voice. “All this talk of hurting others and being gentle has me worried, Kara.”
“I—I can’t—” She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths. Her hands rested on her hips, and she lowered her head as she breathed.
Braeden set a hand on Richard’s shoulder and led him away. “Go easy on her. She needs to sta
y calm. There are bits of her isen nature she’s still learning to control, and you can’t push her.”
Richard’s mouth dropped open. His forehead relaxed, and he nodded. “Was that the green explosion we saw blowing up part of the castle? That was her?”
“She blew out two walls of a ballroom.”
Richard whistled. “Goodness. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Can you take her to my room? I should stay here in case our time estimates are wrong.”
“Of course. I’ll take care of her and be back soon. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“I’ll bring some food, then,” Richard said.
Kara set her hand on Braeden’s back. He wrapped her in a hug, careful not to hold her too tight.
She kissed his cheek. “Don’t die.”
He held her chin and kissed her. “You don’t worry about me. Stay calm. I’ll come find you when this is all over.”
She smiled and nodded. “Be safe.”
Richard gestured for the main gate into Hillside, and Kara followed. She shot a smile over her shoulder but flinched as she crossed the lichgate into the kingdom. The colors of her hair and clothes faded once she was through, diluted by the haze of the portal.
Braeden let out a slow breath. He wanted this to end, and soon, it would. Just when he thought Ourea could finally stop fighting, Evelyn betrayed the alliance that trusted her. But the fighting would end today. The only question in his mind was whether or not the Ayavelian people would survive what Braeden hoped would be the war’s final battle.
Chapter 27
War Crimes
Eight hours had passed since Braeden first returned to Hillside to call off his Stelian army from burning Hillside to the ground. Now, the gray soldiers waited in the dark Hillsidian underbrush. Without moonlight, the shadows of the forest stretched over everything. Braeden closed his eyes, listening to the woods’ hum. Wind rustled through the canopy above him, setting the leaves off in a round of applause that drowned out the shuffling of Stelian soldiers in the grass below. They didn’t seem to understand the concept of quiet or stealth. A Stelian soldier at the base of Braeden’s tree cleared his throat, the grunt like thunder in the quiet forest. Braeden gritted his teeth.
He knelt on a low branch, one arm resting against the trunk while the other rested on the limb for added balance. Gavin sat on the branch next to him in a similar position, an occasional creak the only giveaway to anyone sitting in the tree at all.
A bird’s call echoed through the forest, its pitch flawless. Gavin twisted around, catching Braeden’s eye, and they both took a deep breath.
Approaching soldiers.
The scout’s warning echoed a second time, so perfectly matching the tune of a bird that it would have fooled Braeden if he didn’t know the local wildlife so well. No birds sang like that here.
He pointed at the Stelian at the base of his tree, signaling an army was approaching. The Stelian nodded and signaled to another soldier nearby, and the chain of warning continued. Only afterward did he consider he could have used a Blood mandate instead. He huffed.
They’re almost here. Be ready, he warned them.
Braeden peered through a gap in the trees. Nothing yet. His ears twitched as the march of mismatched feet on the dirt path reached him. Silhouettes appeared at the far end of the path, no torches to light the way. No one in Evelyn’s army spoke. Fabric brushed against fabric as they neared. Leather creaked as sword sheaths adjusted against the soldiers’ bodies.
Evelyn rode a white horse while her soldiers walked. She pulled on the reins, and the creature stopped. It chewed on the bit and pawed at the ground, dragging its hoof over the soil and leaving lines in its wake. Its tail swished.
The horse could sense Braeden and the hidden army, even if Evelyn couldn’t.
Evelyn eyed the forest, back straight as she monitored the quiet tree tops. She likely knew much of Hillside from her time as Gavin’s lover. Braeden glanced to the man he once called a brother. Gavin’s hand wrapped around the base of the tree, knuckles white from his grip. Braeden clutched his sword hilt, hoping against hope that Gavin wouldn’t do anything stupid. Evelyn might not love him anymore, but Gavin couldn’t seem to let go of the woman he adored.
Braeden leaned forward. He crouched on the branch, ready to spring.
“Now!” Gavin roared.
The once-quiet canopy came alive. Hillsidians leapt from the trees, landing on Ayavelian soldiers with swords drawn. Any Ayavelian attacked in the first fifteen seconds didn’t stand a chance.
Evelyn’s horse reared, front hooves flailing at the air. Evelyn fell, landing on the dirt with a thump. Her head banged against the ground, and the horse took off. It trampled two Ayavelians in its escape, its feet smashing their bodies as it fled. Its two victims lay on the path, still as the corpses piling up around them.
Gavin jumped from the tree, and Braeden followed. Evelyn—about thirty yards’ distance—sat up, one hand holding the back of her head as her eyes darted around the melee. Gavin raced to her, and Braeden kept on the man’s heels.
Evelyn’s gaze shifted to Gavin and, a second later, to Braeden. Her eyes went wide. Braeden frowned. He didn’t know how this would end. She was a child queen, a girl who didn’t know how to lead. Evelyn’s decisions thus far proved she was nothing like Aurora, who wore the crown gracefully despite her flaws and mistakes. Evelyn, however, may have mistaken her newfound instant-healing and daru for immortality.
Braeden jumped over a fallen Ayavelian soldier while the melee grew around him. Stelians rushed in a second wave, yelling as they raced to aid their Hillsidian allies.
Only ten yards to Evelyn, now.
She scrambled backward on her hands and pushed herself to her feet. Her gown snagged on a loose branch, but she spun and raced into the trees, looking over her shoulder as she fled.
Braeden grimaced. Coward.
Gavin led the charge, following Evelyn into the woods.
“I’ve got her, Braeden. Stand back!” he shouted over his shoulder.
“Not a chance!”
Gavin cursed. “Go!”
“She’s escaping.”
“Not in my forest.”
A shiver raced up Braeden’s spine at the king’s tone. Maybe Gavin could handle Evelyn himself after all, but Braeden didn’t want to chance it.
Evelyn’s white gown darted behind a tree not far off. She raced away from the screaming and fighting, skirts rippling. Her dress glowed like the moon they didn’t have tonight. Braeden shook his head. She made this too easy.
Gavin sprinted onward, gaining speed as he dove to take her down. He reached with both hands and grabbed her arms. She tripped. Together, they fell and rolled along the underbrush.
As the tumble ended, she shot an elbow into Gavin’s stomach. He huffed, apparently caught off guard by the force of the blow, but wrapped his arms around her tighter. She struggled, pulling at his grip. Her heels dug into the dirt as she wriggled. She clawed at his hands, leaving gouges across his arms. Green blood dripped from the streaks for a second or two before they healed.
Braeden almost laughed. The three of them, once forced to eat at dinners together on Aislynn’s peace missions, now fought outside the city where they all met. He sighed and lifted a blade to her neck.
Evelyn stilled, and Gavin’s eyes shifted to Braeden. Evelyn’s followed shortly thereafter.
“Look at the brave Stelian,” she muttered.
“Lower the sword,” Gavin said.
Braeden shook his head.
“What are you going to do? Kill me?” Evelyn asked with a laugh.
“If I have to.”
Please don’t make me, he added in his head.
She smirked. “That will certainly make you the hero, wouldn’t it? The Stelian Blood who killed a disarmed girl.”
“Is that all you are? A girl?”
Her smiled faded into the glare of disgust he’d come to recognize as her default expr
ession.
Gavin’s grip tightened around her arms. She flinched, her eyebrows flicking upward. She whimpered and tried to look at Gavin, but her head couldn’t turn that far. He twisted, shifting her body such that she had to look away. But Braeden could see him perfectly—the king’s face tensed as if he were trying not to cry.
“Why would you do this to my home?” he managed to ask.
She looked at the ground, but Braeden never removed the sword from her neck. The tip of the blade brushed her skin as she swallowed.
“You’re all lost,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“You’re the one who lost her way,” Braeden said.
She glowered at him. “You all listen to the Vagabond like she’s a god. You obey the drenowith. You’ve been manipulated and controlled. No one else saw it! Only me! I had no choice, Gavin. I’m sorry to hurt you, but this had to be done. I have to rebuild from the ashes.”
Her chin shifted toward Gavin, but she yet again couldn’t turn her head enough to catch his eye.
Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “This isn’t about you or me anymore, Gavin. We’re Bloods, now. We’re rulers. We have to protect our people. That’s why I did this. To do what it took to preserve those I’m responsible for.”
Gavin’s face contorted in anguish, and his grip tightened even more on Evelyn’s arms. She whimpered.
“You’re going to break her bones,” Braeden said, voice even. He didn’t care if it happened. She would heal. He merely thought Gavin should know.
“Braeden, leave,” Gavin said.
“Not a chance,” Braeden repeated.
Gavin cursed. “Please—”
“No.”
Evelyn looked Braeden over from head to toe, disgust creeping back onto her face. “I’ve always hated you, and for good reason. I know it was you who tortured Aislynn. Even as a child, you were evil. You still are. You can’t escape that.”
Braeden’s jaw tensed. “It was a mandate from my Blood. I couldn’t control it.”
“You enjoyed it,” she spat.
He shook his head, but it took all his effort to keep his face calm. The sword weighed on his hand, tempting him to allow the tip to fall away from Evelyn’s neck. Flashes of memory bubbled through his resolve: Aislynn screaming, begging for death; Braeden’s hands on Aislynn’s face; the queen’s eyes rolling back into her head; the veins beneath her skin running black with the curse he placed upon her; Carden patting his head, congratulating him on being a good son.