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I turned away, I didn’t need to see the rest. I had already witnessed enough death for one day. As I walked back to my tent, I felt the opponents of the other challenge. I felt the male contestant as he kicked Lord Hamal so hard that it sent him skidding across the ground to the edge. I felt him dangle by the tips of his fingers before he fell into the void of Odes’s grave before I heard the announcement of the new Lord Voron of Ulrik.
I gathered my belongings, packed up my tent, and saddled my horse. Odarum stayed beside me the entire time. We left and headed to the only home I knew—the burning inside of me remained.
Chapter Eighteen
Ryker
Theron Traveled us back just inside the gates of the Oryn Palace in the capital Voara, the glow of the setting sun illuminating the gray stone walls. We appeared on the lawn and I immediately stormed up the steps through the crowds of my people, frantic and scared. They bowed as I passed by. I never closed the gates on them. The palace belonged to the citizens just as much as it belonged to me.
A female gently brushed her fingers against my arm. “Lord Ryker, please, my family. They were in the village—” she said between soft sobs. My chest tightened.
I placed my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nephin. I’ve only just arrived. Please, come inside, and after I speak with my advisor, I’ll come and find you.” I had to figure out what in the After happened first, but I didn’t want to tell her that I had no idea.
She nodded quickly, tears still streaming heavily down her face as she started making her way through the crowded palace doors. There were too many people I ruled over to know everyone by name, but I made it a point to not forget someone once I met them. I remembered meeting Nephin and her husbandseveral years back with their two small children. A pit formed in my stomach thinking of what could have happened to them…
Pushing open the double doors to the palace, I went inside. People were everywhere in the great hall. Citizens were sitting all along the perimeter of the expansive room while volunteers were assisting them with injuries and giving out blankets.
What is happening?
I gazed around the room, searching for my advisor and second in command. I spotted him talking with a group on the other end of the hall near the stone staircase and made my way over to him.
“Mavris.” My deep voice boomed over the commotion. His head shot up and he briskly walked over to me, weaving between people.
He bowed at the waist. “Lord Ryker.”
I nearly rolled my eyes at the formal greeting, but I kept my face hard. “Care to tell me what is happening?”
He squared his shoulders. “Of course my Lord. Although it may be best to do it in private.” Mavris kept his face stoic while his silver eyes bored into mine with concern. Not for me, but for the people. His light brown hair was tied at the back of his neck and his court attire was in pristine condition. While he looked stately and kempt, his eyes reflected his exhaustion and distress.
I nodded before turning and made my way up the stairs, Mavris following behind closely. On the second level, we walked down the long corridor, lined with sconces that I lit with my flames before reaching the wooden double doors to my formal study.
Mavris had barely closed the doors behind him before I spun on my heel to face him.
“Mav, what the fuck is going on? Why is half of Voara in the palace?” My mask having fallen, I could finally be myself—I always could be with him.
He leaned his back against the door and his head made a light thump against it as he ran his hand over his face.
He let out a sharp exhale. “It’s bad, Ryk. Really fucking bad.”
I took a breath and mentally braced myself. If he thinks it’s bad…
“The southern village of Mirren is gone,” he said in a pained sigh. I closed my eyes, knowing what he was about to say next. “It was destroyed by the Glaev.”
I walked over to a cushioned sitting chair by the fireplace and slumped down into it, my elbows rested on my knees and my face in my hands.
“Holy Cethar. How many were lost?” My voice was solemn.
“Almost all of them. The only remaining survivors are downstairs. The rest are family or friends looking for information from those still…missing.” Mavris sat in the matching chair across from mine.
I removed my hands from my face and snapped my head up to him, my eyes wide with horror.
“When did this happen?” I demanded.
“Yesterday.”
The day my mate was chosen.
We stayed quiet for a few moments as I took this all in. Hundreds of males, females, and children…gone. My lands had several areas of decimation from the Glaev, but never a loss so great. My eyes narrowed as the words of Vicria repeated in my mind.
