Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

They were on us in a heartbeat.

Grady broke free from my grasp, swinging his fists as he crashed into the Rae. The heavy thuds of the blows he landed knocked hooded heads back, scattering the gray mist, but he was outnumbered. A Rae captured his arms, forcing them to his back as he was driven to his knees and another held a . . . a sword to Grady’s throat. A blade that shone a milky white. I shot toward the Rae, reaching for the arm that held the sword at Grady’s neck.

Lord Samriel stepped in front of me.

I jerked back so quickly, I lost my balance and slipped, landing on my ass hard.

Chuckling, Lord Samriel glided— actually glided toward me. “That was unbelievably graceful.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. I crawled backward, my legs getting tangled in the skirt of my gown.

“You son of a bitch! Get away from her!” Grady shouted, struggling against the one holding him. “Let me go, or I swear I’ll— ”

“Silence him,” the Prince ordered.

The Rae’s cloaks whispered along the floor as it spun, bringing down the hilt of a sword onto Grady’s head. He went down, sending a burst of panic through me as I scrambled to my feet. I rushed to his side, dropping to my knees. “Grady?” I whispered as the Rae moved quietly back, forming a loose circle around Grady and me. “Grady?”

“Calm yourself.” Hymel walked out from between two standing stacks as I jerked to a halt, my gaze immediately drawn to his empty hands and then to his hips, where his . . . his sword was still sheathed. He hadn’t been disarmed.

And I was a naive fool to believe that Hymel’s presence had been forced. That he wasn’t capable of taking part in what was happening.

“You bastard,” I seethed, fingers curling around empty air as I glared up at him.

“That’s her, Prince Rohan,” he said, the relief evident in his features. “That’s the one that belongs to the Prince of Vytrus.”

My entire body locked up. “What?”

“Perfect.” Prince Rohan let go of Allyson.

She stumbled, cradling her arm to her stomach as she sobbed. Prince Rohan looked at the ni’mere perched on the shelf, and that was all it took. The ni’mere took flight, aiming straight for her.

“Allyson!” I screamed.

Her head jerked up. She spun, taking off between the stacks. The ni’mere shrieked, diving down between the rows. “No!” I shouted. I knew what was coming. I had seen what would happen, and still I shook as her screams hit the air, high-pitched and terrifying before ending in a wet gurgle.

Then silence.

“Why do they always run?” Lord Samriel asked. “Where do they think they’re running off to?”

“Death,” Prince Rohan answered, eyeing me.

Lord Samriel chuckled, sickening me. “So very morbid.”

“You . . . you said you wouldn’t hurt her.” I could barely breathe; my chest was too tight and I was shaking so fiercely. “You said— ”

“I said I would give her a choice,” Prince Rohan interrupted. “I did not say I wouldn’t hurt her.”

My lips parted. “What choice did you give her?”

“To die quickly or slowly, screaming in pain the entire time,” he said. “And that was a quick death.”

“My gods,” I whispered, a part of my mind unable to process the cold brutality of his words.

“I hope you’re not praying to them.” Prince Rohan looked down at me coolly. “Because they stopped listening long ago.”

“I wasn’t,” I rasped, not having the brain space to even consider if what he said about the gods was true or not. I glanced at Grady, seeing his chest rise and fall. I placed my palms there, letting each breath he took calm me. “Why . . . why are you all doing this?”

“You can say we’re changing the rules,” Prince Rohan answered.

“What?” I looked between him and Lord Samriel. “What rules?”

Prince Rohan’s lip curled in disdain; then he turned his back without answering. The Lord stepped in closer, peering down at me. He squinted. “She doesn’t bear the mark.”

The mark.

The mark Claude had spoken of.

“I’m not sure what you’re looking for,” Hymel said from where he hung back. “But she has abilities. The gift of foresight and intuition. She can read intentions and the future.”

“Her eyes,” Lord Samriel explained, head cocked. “The mark would be in her eyes.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, my mind flashing from the brief sight of them changing in the mirror. It hadn’t been my imagination, but didn’t I already know that? Deep down?

“She could’ve been glamoured,” Prince Rohan mused, and I didn’t have a single clue what he meant by that. “We will know once Lord Arion returns. In the meantime, get rid of that one— ”

“No. No. Please,” I pleaded, stretching over Grady. “Please do not hurt him. Please. I’ll do whatever it is that you ask.” I trembled, not above begging— bargaining. “Please.”

Prince Rohan turned slowly toward me. His eyes . . . they were like Thorne’s, a kaleidoscope of shifting colors, except the brown was closer to a shade of crimson. “Anything?”

My heart plummeted, but I nodded. “Anything.”

Lord Samriel glanced at Hymel.

“She speaks the truth.” Hymel crossed his arms. “Those two are thick as thieves. He’s leverage.”

Anger flooded my veins but I choked it back, focusing on the Prince. “Promise me you won’t hurt him, and I will do whatever you want. I swear it.”

A faint smile appeared, and as I stared up at him, I could see that his features were even more finely crafted than Thorne’s, but there was no . . . no life to them. He was a perfectly molded shell. “Okay.”

I didn’t let myself feel an ounce of relief. “Promise me you won’t hurt him.”

That smile grew, and still, it did nothing to soften his jaw or warm his stare. “You are a quick learner.”

I glanced at Hymel and then toward the stacks, where Allyson had . . . where she’d taken her last breath. “No, I’m not.” I swallowed. “Promise.”

“I, Prince Rohan of Augustine, promise that no harm will come to him,” he said, and I shuddered with relief despite the knowledge he hailed from the Lowlands— the capital. Hyhborn couldn’t lie. They also couldn’t break an oath. That I remembered. “As long as you give no reason for that to occur.”

Trepidation tiptoed through me, but I held on to Prince Rohan’s oath.

“Take her to her quarters,” Prince Rohan directed.

“I’m not leaving Grady,” I warned, latching on to his tunic. “He stays with me.”

Lord Samriel’s brows inched up as Prince Rohan refocused on me, his stare more unnerving than Thorne’s because it was so cold, so lifeless despite the churning. The Prince moved so fast I didn’t even have time to scream.

His hand came around my neck, and he lifted me, forcing me to stand on the tips of my toes. “I promised no harm would come to him,” he said as I grasped his arm. My mind opened wide to him, and I saw nothing . . . nothing but darkness. “Whether or not I honor that oath will be up to you. Making demands is one way to guarantee that oath is broken.” His fingers bit into my throat, sending a flare of pain along my neck. “Do you understand me.”

“Yes,” I forced out.

“Good.” He didn’t so much let go of me as shove me away. I stumbled back, caught by the arms by Lord Samriel. His grip was firm but not nearly as painful as I knew it could be. “Take her to her quarters and make sure she stays there while the horses are readied. We will leave as soon as Lord Arion confirms what is claimed.”

Lord Samriel began to move, and I wasn’t given much of a choice. My stare desperately clung to Grady’s unmoving form. What were they going to do to him? I didn’t dare ask out of fear of giving Prince Rohan reason to break his oath.

“Your Highness.” Hymel spoke up, unfolding his arms. “What about the Prince of Vytrus? He left to escort his knights to Archwood. They will be returning by tomorrow night, at the latest.”