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“Dead?! Alisdair thinks I’m dead? Why?”
“I don’t know, Calli, it’s just what we were told. All of Lumenfell has been in mourning for days, and then today, the sky just opened up and...” He gazed out at his burning home. “They attacked.”
“Oh no,” I cried. “We need to get to Alisdair now!”
I raced off leaving Riordan to follow.
“Get him!”
“Kill them!”
“Shadowsoul did this to us!”
We burst out of the trees beside a burning home. Broken glass crunched under our boots, the shattered remains of the greenhouses I so admired. Was it really me who walked side by side with Alisdair, beaming so wide my face hurt while he led me through the greenhouse that was to be mine? It was hard to remember being so happy while everyone and everything I came to know and love... burned.
“He turned us into beasts! He’s robbed us of the sun and stars, forcing us to root around in the muck and dark like pigs while he sits on a throne of gold!”
“That’s not true,” I burst out, charging around the cover of building. “You have everything all wrong! Alisdair didn’t curse you! He didn’t curse anyone! He’s the one who—”
I rushed into the street, and locked eyes with Meallan.
He stood before the raging, torch-carrying mob wearing clothes. Not just any clothes, but light, breezy, colorful breeches and silk shirts—the style of Lyricans. In that second, I knew.
“You,” I hissed, lips peeling back from my teeth.
Meallan looked at me, then flicked away—turning his back on me completely. He didn’t have a clue who I was.
“Today we fight back!” he hollered, sending the mob into a frenzy. Behind them, a wall of wolves clashed with the Lumenfell soldiers, ever obedient to their alpha. “We take back Lyrica! We take back Elva! We free our home from the scourge of Alisdair Shadowsoul!”
“Yeah!”
“Take the flowers, everyone!” Meallan presented the delicate, purple flower crushed in his grip. “Rub it over your fists and weapons. Weave it into your magic. It will protect us, and kill him!”
“Yeah!”
“No!” I screamed against the wind—a lone voice in a raging sea.
“Attack!” Meallan shouted.
They charged the drawbridge, the most unnatural sight with beautiful flowers in their hands, and hate etched into their faces.
“Don’t do this!” I ran out in front of them and was roughly hauled back.
Riordan snapped me to his chest, throwing us both out of the way of the stampede.
“Riordan, the mark!”
“Was on Emiana’s body, not yours,” he finished, helping me up.
I slapped my forehead. “Of course, you’re right. That means he can’t scent that I’m right here. Fuck’s sake, he thinks I’m dead and—”
The mob threw everything they had, magical and physical at the castle doors. Palace guards dropped down or charged around the structure to meet them, but the wolves were coming from everywhere. Pouring out of the forest, overwhelming the town, leaping on fleeing villagers and tearing out their throats. They were Meallan’s army.
“That stupid, bitch-ass pup is using more trickery and manipulation to steal Alisdair’s throne, and his li-fe!” I spun to meet two wolves who broke off from the pack, bounding straight for us. I earthed two vials from my pocket. Lobbing them over head, they flew true—smashing on the wolves’ faces.
They yelped, skidding to hard stops. Shrieking and whimpering, they frantically batted at their faces trying to get the stuff off.
Dropping on all fours, they turned tail and ran as fast as their hands and legs could carry them.
