The momentthe meeting ends and Brathen and Kythara leave the tent, I hurry to my feet and follow them.
I stop them by reaching out and grabbing Brathen’s arm. He turns swiftly, his eyes meeting mine through the slits in his black mask.
“Are you my father?” I blurt out.
For a second, maybe two, he simply stares at me, his expression unreadable.
“Are you?” I challenge, needing answers.
His raspy voice cuts through the air. “No, I am not your father.”
I take a step closer, searching those familiar dark blue eyes. They’re the same shade as mine, the same shape. “But your eyes—”
“—many people have blue eyes, Lady Annora.” His tone remains steady, controlled.
Frustration burns in my chest. “Please, just tell me the truth. Are you my father?”
“I’ve already answered your question.” He turns away, and Kythara follows. Neither looks back as they disappear between the rows of tents.
Those eyes. That voice. Iknowit’s him.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Jasce
For two days,we’ve followed Asha’s path through my territory. The distance between us has shrunk hour by hour, marked by trampled grass and hastily abandoned campsites still warm with dying embers.
Now we’ve finally caught up with her.
I pause atop my horse, my fingers tight on the reins as I savor this moment, watching the Watchers turn on Asha, their betrayal as swift and precise as a blade between the ribs.
“Now,” I say, giving the command for my warriors to attack.
Reeve leads the main force through the dense forest to the east. Jude’s contingent emerges from a canyon to the west. I direct my forces straight down the center, splitting Asha’s army like a wedge.
The three-pronged attack catches them completely off guard. Before they can mount a proper defense, we’re already inside their ranks. Reeve’s forces cut off their retreat while Jude’s men prevent them from regrouping.
Through the chaos, I spot a familiar flash of reddish-brown hair. Annora stands atop a ridge, her arms raised to the sky. The air crackles with power as Emberdione materializes above her.
The Phoenix’s screech splits the air, and streams of fire rain down on Asha’s forces. Men scatter, their armor melting, their weapons dropping from burned hands.
I slam my fist into a warrior’s face, crushing bone. Another rushes me with a spear. I catch the shaft, ignite it, and drive the burning wood through his chest.
Annora directs Emberdione toward a cluster of archers taking aim at our forces. The Phoenix dives, her flames engulfing them in seconds.
Pride swells in my chest as I watch my wife command such devastating power. Gone is her hesitation, her fear. In its place burns a fierce determination to end this war.
Annora and I move as one across the battlefield, her Phoenix above, my inferno below. House of Silver warriors fall by the dozens before our combined might.
Through the carnage, I catch sight of Asha. Her voice carries, urging her warriors to hold the line.
As I close the distance between us, her eyes lock with mine—fierce, defiant, burning with the same determination I’ve seen countless times in Annora’s gaze.
Our blades meet in a shower of sparks.
I could end this quickly, drive my sword through her guard, and finish what we started, but that choice belongs to Annora.
Only she can decide her sister’s Fate.
