Page 16 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

As I fought, my mind whirled. The Assembly could’ve easily bought and paid for this so-called “raid.” Especially with mages here. That first shot had been aimed at me. But I truly didn’t think the Assembly would be so brazen.Vaustin had been in secret meetings with Berian.

Could they have been working with my brother to orchestrate this?

The thought slammed into me like a war hammer. Needing Berian’s blessing had made involving him in the marriage scheme’s planning impossible to avoid…

No.

He hated me, but I was too useful to him alive.

Even as I fought, it took far too long for the niggling uncertainty to fade.

I turned to end the spellcaster’s threat. Behind me, the unsteady footwork of the green recruit. He was still at my back, doing his job with more courage than skill. He smiled at me, proud of himself…a split second before an axe cleaved straight through his skull. I heard the squelch right before a warm splatter of blood splashed on my skin. He dropped limply to the ground.

My grim prediction had come true. The thought circled back on itself, refusing to leave.

My stomach climbed up my throat.

Life in court had trained me to leash every instinct. To never use my magic to excess, to make everyone around me comfortable with my otherness. But the moment the young man’s body crashed to the earth, every scrap of my control evaporated.

How dare the Assembly, the Gelidian rebels, attack my men just to get to me?

Defense would’ve been the measured choice. I could’ve forged my shadows into a wall, or a thick fog to hide us, but rage broke every single chain I kept on myself. I formed my conjurations into tools of death instead.

Magic rose in my chest, riding the explosion of rage that rushed out of every pore. The ground beneath us groaned in answer. This was something I never wanted my men to witness. Yet, I couldn’t allow another life to be cut so short.

The black mist surged at my command, spilling outward like a tide until the road, the trees, and the screaming men were swallowed. Conjured lassos whipped out from it and yanked dozens of raiders off their feet. Before they could hit the ground, spears of shadow jutted upward in a hundred points of vengeance.

Terror bubbled up in shrieks as my darkness decimated their numbers, impaling berserker and enemy mage alike. The familiar stench of blood and emptied entrails filled my nostrils.

This is who you really are. This is why your brother hates you. Why so many hate you.

My own men flinched back as I turned the battlefield into a forest of impaled corpses. They thought the shadows were out of control. They thought I was. The look in their eyes told me I was no less terrifying than the raiders we fought.

Just in time, I wrenched part of the deadly, jagged barricade back before one of my own stumbled onto it. Terror, an undercurrent of awe, and trust—thank the gods—were written on his face.

“Shadowborn! Shadowborn!” The chant started and spread faster than the screams.

My veterans moved to surround me so I could cast spells without fear of attack, but I couldn’t meet their eyes. I’d spent my whole life making myself smaller so they would never look at me the way they were looking at me now, somewhere between terror and worship. I didn’t know which one broke me more.

And yet I sent out a second wave of shadow spears.

I couldn’t stop now. Couldn’t let another soldier fall. If being the prince they needed meant being something they feared, I would bear the guilt.

That was when the silent salute began spreading—two fingers pressed to the steel over their hearts. I almost fell to my knees from the overwhelming tide of emotion. These men offered their loyalty and trust, even as I proved I was a walking nightmare, even as they died for the hope of peace.

I’d covered the battlefield with so much black that distance and depth ceased to exist—only silhouettes impaled by shadow, frozen in death like offerings to some forgotten god.

No matter the cost.

Soon my vision tunneled then wavered. My shaking hands and unsteady legs were proof that I was pouring far too much power into the magic.

“Rein it in, Princeling!” Cam’s voice cracked like thunder as a plume of fire roared from his outstretched hand, engulfing a mage who’d tried to hurl spikes of ice in my direction. “I can’t drag you off this battlefield!”

The terrain was too unforgiving. If I got hurt, he’d do the math and decide that leaving a few of our men behind was worth saving me.

Never.

I cut off the mass casting, and more men came at me seeking revenge for their fallen comrades. I conjured a halberd, shadows coalescing into an edge black as pitch, and cleaved through one. An arc of blood painted the ground around him crimson. With each strike, I felt my muscles growing heavier, my breathing more and more labored.