“Just my luck,” I muttered, sarcasm barely masking the dread that laced my words. “When I thought everything was finally going right.”
Beside me, Reyna leaned forward to peer out the window. Her expression shifted, darkening like a storm cloud. Whatever she saw mirrored the bitterness settling in my chest as if the sour taste of old lemons had coated her tongue.
“Olivia, what is it?” Rosie’s small voice trembled with unease, but I had no words of comfort to offer her.
“Stay down,” I whispered, the protective instincts of a mother surging within me like a tidal wave.
Reyna’s hand found mine, her grip tight and grounding, her unspoken solidarity an anchor in the chaos.
I couldn’t sit idle, shackled by fear and Roman’s command. Slipping my feet into my shoes, I moved toward the door, flustered but resolute. Reyna and Rosie watched me, their wide, frightened eyes like mirrors reflecting my unease. Handing Luna to Reyna, I stepped down from the safety of the carriage, defiance sparking in my every movement as I braved the unknown.
Roman stood a few paces ahead, his posture unyielding, his face a mask of stoic calm. “Is there a problem?” he asked, his voice cutting through the charged silence.
Not a word came from the sea of black-clad figures. Their silence was heavier than any shouted threat, a quiet that pressed against the air and set my nerves on edge.
Then, cutting through the oppressive stillness, a solitary figure emerged. His mount, black as a moonless night, moved with a deliberate grace, its hooves stirring small clouds of dust that lingered like foreboding whispers. The rider himself was cloaked in layers of dark furs, their opulence speaking of rank and wealth. Obsidian accents adorned his armor, catching the faint light and adding to his commanding presence. He exuded an air of authority, wearing it as naturally as the royal finery draped over him.
“Finally, someone to talk to,” Roman said, a flicker of relief crossing his features before his composure snapped back into place. “We don’t want trouble. We ask for safe passage.”
The warrior dismounted with an air of cold majesty, his movements deliberate and assured. He stood tall, his piercing gaze sweeping over us, lingering just long enough to leave a shiver in its wake. Then he spoke, his voice as smooth and calculated as the steel at his side. “Raul Costa has informed me that you possess the sun and moon daggers,” he said, his words falling like stones into the stillness. “And we’ve come to collect them.”
My heart stuttered in my chest as Roman stood his ground, though the tension in his jaw betrayed the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.
“Forgive me, but I have no idea what you are talking about. We don’t have any daggers, and I have never heard of a man named Raul Costa,” Roman said, his voice teetering between frustration and incredulity.
The air grew heavy and thick with unspoken threats, the kind that prickled at the skin and promised violence.
With an almost unnatural grace, the royal warrior closed the distance between himself and my husband, each step deliberate, a silent declaration of power.
Roman’s hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, his muscles taut and ready to strike.
As the warrior reached Roman, he unfastened the interlocking metal that shielded his face, revealing features as unyielding as the rugged terrain we’d traversed. In a single, fluid motion, he drew his blade. The weapon caught the fading light, its sharp edge glinting with lethal intent. Before I could fully comprehend the movement, the cold steel grazed Roman’s neck.
Roman’s body jolted, his eyes wide with shock as though an electric current had coursed through him.
I sucked in a gasp.
“Be mindful,” the warrior said, his voice smooth but edged with malice. “This blade is smeared with poison. One nick is all it takes to end your life.”
A primal instinct surged through me—a desperate need to protect Roman, to shield him from the danger that loomed. I stepped forward, but the silent warriors surrounding us moved in unison, their weapons whispering against their sheaths as they drew them. The sound sent a shiver through me, freezing me in place.
“I’ll make this simple,” the royal warrior continued, his tone mocking civility. “Hand over the sun and moon blades, and I will leave you and your family unharmed.”
Roman, ever the fighter, refused to yield. He lunged at the warrior with a sudden burst of movement, his blade flashing in the twilight. The warrior moved with a predator’s grace, sidestepping Roman’s strike with effortless precision. In one swift motion, he seized Roman’s outstretched arm and used his momentum to hurl him to the ground. Dust rose in a choking cloud as Roman landed hard, his body sprawled against the unforgiving earth.
“The more you fight, the worse it will be,” the warrior said coldly, looming over Roman with an air of finality that made my stomach churn. He placed a booted foot over my husband’s chest and pressed down.
Roman grabbed the man’s ankle with a vice-like grip. The warrior sneered, brandishing his dagger in a slow, mocking wave.
“Don’t you dare try anything foolish,” he warned. “My aim is flawless. One small nick from this blade will end your life.”
Roman froze, his muscles tense with fear as he weighed his options.
Panic clawed at my insides as I watched my husband pinned beneath the stranger’s boot, our fate hanging in the balance. My voice, though trembling inside, emerged steady. “We don’t know a man named Raul Costa,” I said, my tone firm. “And we certainly don’t have any daggers. You have the wrong people. You’ve attacked us, accused us of lies, and we don’t even know who you are.”
A few stars began to pierce the darkening sky, their soft light an ironic contrast to the menace that loomed over us. The horses, oblivious to the tension, nickered softly, their innocent sounds swallowed by the oppressive silence.
“Such bold words.” The royal warrior’s voice dripped with malice as his gaze shifted to me. He stroked his dark beard, his eyes lingering on my face with a calculating leer. “A woman who speaks so freely could easily be imprisoned for treason. And yet...” He tilted his head, a cruel smile curling his lips. “Your beauty is unparalleled. It would be a waste to lock you away when the Sultan’s concubines could always use another gem to their collection.”
