Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

My lips moved once more. “Yes.”

The green rings shrank until they were once more just blotches in the darkness of his eyes. The weight entrenched into my body lifted without warning, slipping from my ankles and wrists and then my mind. The fuzziness cleared from my thoughts as his— his power retracted its hold on me. Now having felt what a compulsion was like, I understood the terror I’d seen on Grady’s face when we were children and he’d been under one. I staggered back, breathing heavily.

“Now, it’s time for us to go.”

Slowly, I turned around, my movements stiff and jerky. A tremor had started in my hands and had made its way throughout the entirety of my body as I took note of the small circle of blood that stained the chest of my robe. It was nothing compared to what I’d seen— compared to what I knew this lord was capable of. I walked out into the clouded, cooler night sky.

The courtyard was empty.

I barely felt the cold ground beneath my feet as I searched for any sign of Grady and the others. I didn’t see them. Panic took root as all I saw beyond the stone fencing was the outline of a massive black steed, one as large as the horses I’d seen at the Archwood stables. “Where is he? Where are the others?”

“You will see him again.” The Lord strode past, grasping my arm in the process. His grip was bruising, but I didn’t protest. The manhandling was far better than him using another charm and making good on one of his many threats. “He was taken ahead with the Prince and my brother.”

Confusion rose, and then I remembered what Grady had said. “We’re being followed, aren’t we?”

“We’re being cautious,” the Lord said with a chuckle, and I flinched, reminded of Lord Samriel’s apathy. “If we are, they’ll follow the Prince. Not us.”

My heart thudded as I entered the empty, dark street. I had to remind myself that Hyhborn couldn’t lie. If he said the Rae were taking him ahead of us, then that was what was happening. Grady was strong and clever. If he had a chance to escape, he would. I latched on to that as the Lord gripped me by the waist and hoisted me up onto the horse.

The Lord swung up onto the saddle behind me. “Ask another question of me?” he said, picking up the horse’s reins. “And you will find yourself occupying your mouth in a way that will be less grating to me.”

I clamped my jaw shut, and that hurt, causing half of my face to throb. Why did men, no matter what they were, always resort to such threats? As if threatening our lives wouldn’t be enough to ensure cooperation? My fingers dug into the pommel of the saddle.

“Do not fall,” he instructed. “It will annoy me if you do, and you don’t want that to occur.”

With that, he dug his heels into the steed’s sides, and the horse launched into movement. Refusing to use any part of the monster behind me as support, I held on to the pommel. The pace quickly picked up and we were rushing through the dark streets, forcing me to clamp my thighs against the saddle to stay upright. My heart sank as soon as we reached the end of the street.

An orange glow rose above the hill, and the scent of burnt wood grew. Smoke poured into the night, blanketing the roads. I tried to see what kind of damage had been done, but the horse charged on, turning the streets of the unnamed village into a blur.

As we approached the open, unguarded gates of the village, the clouds began to break apart. Silvery moonlight flowed over the road, washing over lumps scattered at the edges. Shapes that were—

My stomach cramped. Dead city guards lay scattered about. Dozens of them as we left the village, the horse’s pace never slowing.

Good gods, how many had died tonight? I shuddered. And all these deaths . . . Was their blood on my hands? Like the blood the Prince of Vytrus carried on his?

No. That one word burned through me, forging my spine into steel. I’d done nothing to cause this. Nor had any of those who’d suffered tonight. This was on the Hyhborn. Grady was right. I wasn’t responsible for Archwood either. The only thing I’d done was be born, but I wasn’t completely free from guilt.

I cared about others, but I obviously hadn’t cared enough. Because I never paid attention to Court politics whenever other barons visited with news and gossip. Whatever I gleaned from them for Claude I quickly forgot about. I didn’t pay all that much attention when news of the Westlands unrest first broke. I used my abilities when asked, when it served me, or simply by accident. I could’ve worked harder at cracking that shield that surrounded Claude and Hymel, and I would’ve been able to, since I’d done it with Commander Rhaziel without touching him. I could’ve learned what Hymel was up to, but I’d been too afraid— not just for Grady but for myself. I hadn’t wanted to jeopardize my life and all the privileges I’d obtained, whether warranted or not. I’d been looking out for him and myself. I was too wrapped up in my own life and my own fears. I could’ve done more. There were so many choices I could’ve made that would’ve changed and maybe even prevented what had become of Archwood.

What had happened here.

So how was I any better than the King at the end of the day? Just because I cared didn’t make me different, because I hadn’t cared enough. And the gods knew I wasn’t the only lowborn who stuck her head in the sand, but I had been in a position of privilege, of protection, where I could’ve done more, and I hadn’t. I thought of how I’d warned Grady to not get involved with the Iron Knights. I had done the exact opposite of more. Because I didn’t want to risk ending up on the streets again. How did that make me any better?

It really didn’t.

The fact that it had taken this for me to realize that sickened me, because now I had to live with those choices.

And who knew how many others would have to because of them.



We stayed on the road for a short period of time before Lord Arion guided the steed into moonlight-drenched meadows with a brutal urging of his knees.

Tall thistle weeds lashed at my legs, stinging my skin, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in my chest and across my jaw, nor could it compare to the mounting dread of what was to come. The meadow seemed endless, my thoughts staggering over one another as I tried to piece together what I knew to figure out what was coming. How I could somehow make better . . . better choices but still protect Grady— still get him out of this situation.

Icy water jerked me from my thoughts, soaking my feet and the edges of my clothing as we crossed a narrow stream. The shivering ratcheted up as the steed climbed the steep bank and carried us into the . . . the Wychwoods.

Dear gods, there were things in these woods possibly even more frightening than the Hyhborn lord behind me.

When I glanced down at the packed earth, a silly yet slightly terrifying thought occurred to me. Were there still Deminyens in these woods, being created deep underground? Gods, thinking about that didn’t help anything.

I didn’t know how much time had passed. All I could focus on was staying atop the horse and not falling beneath his hooves as he raced at neck-breaking speeds through the maze of trees. I held on, even as every part of my body protested— as my hands and thighs ached. Only when the trees became too crowded together did Lord Arion slow the horse enough that I didn’t feel as if I would fall at any given second.

But my grip didn’t relent, not even as the pieces of sky visible through the heavy limbs lightened, shifting through all shades of blue. I held on.