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“Please, say no more, Endre,” Vadim begged, covering his ears from atop Mistik’s back.
Snow continued to fall softly, silently, as we traversed the path to Radence. There was no sign of any Iron Fae, and I was grateful for the reprieve. They must have retreated from their sentry posts to avoid the weather; deadly avalanches were common on the higher slopes, especially with fresh snow.
As we rounded the last bend in the road, the sun broke freeof the clouds, the fluffy white powder coating every structure glittering in the light. Radence was bathed in a false gleam, for I knew the evils that lurked beneath the ground there.
“Halt!” King Airre called from the front of our procession. I craned my neck to see what stopped us. A dozen Iron Fae soldiers on horseback blocked the path to the capital of the Iron Realm, and their commander rode forward to greet King Airre, who exchanged a few words I did not catch. When the Iron Fae turned his horse and separated his unit, I breathed a sigh of relief. We proceeded through them, and I studied each male in turn, committing their faces to memory. If any of them had been at Este Castle when Ruslan kidnapped Izidora, I would personally slit their throats. Black ropes hissed like snakes beneath my skin at the thought of each male drowning in his own blood, but I clamped down on the desire before my imagination ran away with my mind.
We left the riders behind as we wound down the mountainside, Ryza Citadel growing larger and larger as we closed in on Radence.
“I’m almost there, Izidora,” I whispered on the wind. I was so close I could almost feel her presence. My every nerve was alight, ready to fight, ready to grab her, ready to kiss her, ready to hold her once again. I shifted in my saddle, and Fek snorted at me as if to say, ‘calm down.’ I patted his black hide, then glanced at Mistik and Vadim beside me. A wave of sadness washed over me as I realized we would have to tell Izidora about Kriztof, Zekari, and Kirigin – and my father.
I’ve almost got her back, father.
I touched the bag that held his journal, wondering if he could hear me in death. Would he be disappointed in my actions since receiving binding magic? Or would he encourage me to lean into my Fates-given gift if that meant saving my mate?
He always knew the right path, and I wished to hear hisvoice guiding me one last time. The ache of his absence had abated during the hectic and hurried race to gather allies, but on that lonely stretch of road, his loss chilled my body beyond the snow.
We entered the city of Radence. The main thoroughfare was nearly empty of life, the thick snow barring many from venturing into the streets. Brief flashes of grim faces appeared from curtain-covered windows that lined the way to Ryza Citadel, each glance at our traveling party carrying a wariness and hint of tension that grew with each step toward the black fortress that watched over all below it.
Something was off, and it was not only the snow that kept everyone indoors this day. Vadim caught my attention, murmuring under his breath, “Do you feel it?”
I dipped my chin. In front of us, Endre and Viktor scanned left and right, up and down, and I tried to look behind us, but my view was blocked by the rolling carriage. Liliana’s flushed face appeared in the small window, and she caught my eye, clearly feeling the tension too.
“Do we need to be ready?” she mouthed, her voice blocked by the wall and distance between us. I tapped the boot where I kept a knife hidden, a last resort in case of attack. She understood my meaning, then disappeared from view.
The citadel perched atop a cliff that looked like it had speared the ground and broken through to the skies above, and as we reached its base, we turned onto the stone road that wound around to a sloped incline leading to the citadel’s front gates. Soldiers decked in intricate metal armor lined the path that led straight uphill with no way out. Filling my lungs with air, I readied myself for a fight. While King Airre and King Geza might lead the procession, King Azim was surely not stupid enough to think the Night Realm would not attend. But the Iron Fae simply stared straight ahead, unmoving as we passed them.
The kings crested the hill and moved to one side, making room for the six High Lords from their own realms and my friends from the Night Realm.
Dread settled in my gut as Fek clopped closer to the top of the hill. My heart dropped with each pair of riders that disappeared over the horizon.
Eight pairs left.
My palms were slick in my gloves, the fur dampening.
Six pairs left.
My spine tingled, my nerves on fire and sweat dripped down my back despite the chill. Four pairs left.
Fek tossed his head, picking up on the anxiety that wracked my body.
Two pairs left.
Would I crest the hill and find Izidora hanging at the gate?
One pair left.
Goddess, please let her be alive.
And as I finally reached the courtyard of Ryza Citadel, I laid eyes upon the male who had kidnapped my mate and killed my father. We locked eyes, and shock replaced fear when I observed the Iron Crown resting upon his head. He wore a sardonic smirk, and the beast inside me roared, hungry for his blood.
But then I saw her.
29
Béke Day One
Whatever Zuriel sang to me must have been infused with magic, because I did not wake until the next morning when his voice filled the room beyond. I cracked a swollen eye, finding the bed beside me perfectly intact. Ruslan must not have come to bed the previous night. His raspy voice mixed with Zuriel’s, and I waited in bed to see who would come for me. At last, Zuriel slipped through the door, closing it behind him with a soft click, and crossed the large room to the bed where I remained curled into a tight ball.
