Together, with their army, they move with purpose, surrounding Asha’s forces like a noose tightening around its prey.
Asha’s soldiers glance back in panic as they find themselves trapped between my might and Hector’s approaching legions. Their formation breaks. Some try to flee while others stand their ground out of desperation or foolish bravery.
I signal my men to press the advantage. “Forward!” I command, my voice cutting through the din of battle.
We surge ahead like a crimson tide, sweeping toward Asha’s dwindling forces with relentless determination. There is no escape for them now—only surrender or death.
Asha herself fights with the ferocity of a cornered beast, her bright blue eyes smoldering with fury as she cuts down anyone who dares approach her. But even she cannot change the tide of this battle alone.
I press closer to Keel, my gaze locked on his scarred face. He meets my gaze with a defiant sneer, his sword raised in challenge.
With a roar that shakes the very earth beneath our feet, I engage the traitor. Our blades clash in a symphony of steel, sparks flying as we trade blows with a speed and ferocity that few could match.
Keel is skilled. I’ll give him that. He parries my strikes with a deftness born of summers of training and experience. But I am fueled by a righteous fury, a determination to protect my people and my throne from those who would see it all torn down.
My fire magic pulsing beneath my skin, but I hold it back, knowing that this is a fight that must be won with steel and skill alone.
Keel’s blade nicks my cheek, drawing blood. I barely feel the sting. I retaliate with a flurry of strikes, driving him back with the sheer force of my assault. He stumbles, his footing faltering for just a moment.
It’s all I need.
I seize the opening, my sword flashing forward in a strike as swift as a viper’s bite. It finds its mark, piercing through Keel’s armor and into the flesh beneath.
His eyes widen in shock as his weapon slips from his grasp. He falls to his knees, and with a final, swift motion, I end Keel’s life. His body slumps to the ground, lifeless.
I turn to my men, my voice ringing out across the battlefield. “Destroy the rebel army!” I command. “But take Asha alive.”
They answer with a roar of their own, then surge forward to carry out my orders. The battle rages on, but I know that victory is within our grasp.
Keel’s death marks the beginning of the end for the rebels. They will learn, as he did, the price of betrayal.
ChapterFifty-Five
ANNORA
Over and over again,I pace the library as my thoughts whirl, and my stomach coils with fear for Jasce and Asha. My feet tread the same path across the marble, back and forth, as if by repetition I can somehow alter the course of events unfolding beyond these walls.
I hurry to the window and stare out at the sky, thick with smoke. Plumes of gray and black blot out the sun. I squint, desperate to see more, to know Jasce and Asha are all right, but I cannot make out anything through the haze.
I turn away from the window and resume my pacing as my mind churns with what ifs and if onlys. What if I had acted sooner, said something different, found another way? If only I could be out there, standing between them, shielding them both from harm. But regrets and wishes are as useless as they are painful. I cannot change what is happening, no matter how desperately I want to.
My love for Jasce anchors me to one side. Blood anchors me to the other.
A tear slips down my cheek as I imagine Jasce and Asha locked in combat, their blades flashing. I swipe the tear away. Crying won’t help either of them.
I pause my pacing and press a hand to my churning stomach, the dread rising like bile in my throat. What if one of them dies out there on the battlefield?
My pulse roars in my ears as my mind conjures horrific images of Jasce and Asha lying lifeless on the blood-soaked ground.
No! I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing the gut-wrenching visions away with every ounce of will I possess. I cannot let myself think like that.
“Please,” I whisper in a desperate plea to any gods who might be listening. “Keep them safe. Bring them back to me.”
* * *
I glanceup as Zerah enters the library, her face pale but her eyes filled with a fierce determination that I’ve come to admire in her.
She strides over to me and grabs my hand. The warmth of her touch is a small comfort as she guides me to a nearby chair. I sink down onto the sofa, and Zerah settles beside me, never releasing her hold on my hand.
