Page 23 of A Kiss of Flame
Wren had started to rise from the chair, and froze there, staring at him. No, at his hands.
They were clenched into fists on his desk, his blunt nails biting into the palms. This wouldn’t do. He couldn’t lose control like this. Not here, not in front of this… this girl… Carefully, he uncurled them.
He ground out more words, hardly caring what they were. He needed her to leave. Finn could break the bad news to her himself. He should have done it to begin with. This was not Roland’s place. She hated him anyway. Why allow anything to make that worse? ‘Now, if you are finished?—’
But it was far too late. She was afraid of him. And like any creature afraid, she was testing him to see when he would turn on her. His own daughter was afraid of him.
And why not? He had shown her no gentleness. He didn’t know how to. He had captured her mother and brought her to trial, back in the last place either of them wanted to be. Who knew what lies Elodie had filled her head with?
It struck him then that she wasn’t just afraid. She was terrified. Of him, of this place, of what would happen to Elodie, and to herself. Of everything. Oh, she tried to hide it, behind bravado and impudence, but he’d seen that too many times. Finn had been the same when he’d first come here. And clearly, his ward could still be defiant.
Why couldn’t he simply obey a direct order when it came to Wren?
‘Wren—’ Roland began, schooling his face to a calm he didn’t feel. Why did she have to make everything so complicated and his temper so unstable?
Because Elodie had taught her. That was why.
His breath turned to fog in front of his face as the air chilled all around them, the temperature plummeting in an instant. The room darkened, light draining away as shadows rose from the corners and the floor, sliding up the walls like water.
Shadow kin.
He knew them, knew their touch and their scent. He had destroyed enough of them to last a lifetime. How were they here, in his study, a place warded and guarded by the magic of the maidens, the very stones touched by the Aurum?
Roland rose, his fears and doubts forgotten. He had one role, one purpose, to protect the blood royal of Asteroth. Wren turned, facing this new threat, putting herself instantly in danger.
With a fluid motion he drew his sword, Nightbreaker. A grandiose name for what was really a simple tool like any other. But it was the sword of the Grandmaster of the Knights of the Aurum, forged long ago by the maidens in the sacred flames, and created to defend against just such darkness. It glowed now with its inner magical light in the darkening room.
‘Get behind me, Wren,’ he told her, his arm already reaching out to shield her. She glanced at him, her expression startled, and he moved before she could, putting himself between her and the shadow kin as best he could. He needed to raise the alarm. There were others, outside the door. Finnian for one, a knight who was more than half a Paladin if the events at Knightsford were anything to go by. He’d protect the girl. Roland knew that. Finn was already as in love with her as Roland had ever been with Elodie. ‘When I move, I need you to run for the door, understand? Finn is out there. Get help. Tell me you understand.’
He needed her to say it. He couldn’t risk looking at her for a nod or anything like that. To take his attention away from the shadow kin was to invite disaster. He knew that better than anyone.
‘I understand,’ she said, and her voice didn’t shake. Her attention was entirely fixed, and focused on the threat before them. Like a warrior facing battle. ‘But they shouldn’t be here. They… they can’t be here. Why won’t they go away, Roland?’
‘What do you mean?’ There wasn’t time for this. They were coming closer, almost as if they were toying with him. Stalking him like cats with their prey.
‘I can’t… I can’t explain…’
Strain entered her voice, a hint of pain, and he turned, just for a moment, concern surmounting caution.
The shadows pounced.
CHAPTER 12
WREN
The shadow kin surged around Roland, and Wren screamed.
Not in fear, not this time. This was all rage. She lashed out, her mind and will as one, desperate to push them back. How dare they? How could they?
She hadn’t called them and she didn’t need them. She had already tried to make them leave but they refused. They were hungry, wild, dangerous. The darkness recognised her, and she felt them on the edge of her consciousness, the shadow kin singing in response to her touch. Sweet songs of seduction, thrilling through her blood, seeking out the dark heart of her. But they didn’t obey her as they had before.
Leave, she told them again, more forcefully this time. Don’t touch him. Don’t you dare!
The shadows recoiled from her, and from Roland, rising over the Grandmaster in a gyre of hatred and desperation. Pleading with her. For him. To take him. Great light, they wanted him so badly. They seethed with animosity.
‘No!’ Wren yelled and the air shook with the sound.
The song turned to a lament. Enough, there wasn’t time for this. She shoved all the darkness around them away as hard as she could.
