Page 52 of Season Warriors & Wolves

A shiver drew up the skin on my spine when the electricity in the air suddenly packed with a thicket of icy magic—familiar magic.

They had taken my warning.

“Finally, here you are,” a soft voice called from the terrace of a two-story building to our right and every muscle in my body grew taunt.

Everyone turned on a similar beat to aim every weapon in the direction of my little sister who was hovering at the ledge, swinging her legs back and forth almost boredly.

Hells.

What in the hells?

The damned hells!

Fear spiked to my throat while my brain throttled around every possible scenario how this would go wrong—how she would become my father’s plaything, too.

I glanced at the man who stood stupefied of thought, a petrified expression began swelling in his features and he held a breath.

Thora jumped from the terrace, her landing soft and controlled from the gust of wind circling her. “Papa,” she said, dusting her black leather jacket and straightening the rose-coloured bow holding her hair back in a ponytail. “You look well. Unfortunately.”

My fists gathered tight, and every part of me readied to jump between her and the rest. The thought ticked relentlessly in my head, but no one made a single move, waiting for my father who seemed to have turned himself into a human statue.

“It cannot be,” was all he managed to utter.

“Can be,” my sister said, disdain slipping over her mask of calm. “Thanks to your brother and sister.”

Everyone looked confused and unsure whether to lower their weapons or jump ahead and attack. The Crafters looked over at Melanthe, waiting for the command that would have them choose between containing me and protecting their king.

Silas glanced at me before turning to my sister. “What are you talking about?”

She tilted her head to the side, an action all too familiar. “Uncle took us that night, hid us in White Bridge with aunt Eleonor, and planned to use us to usurp the throne right under your nose.”

“Us?”

My sister smiled all sugar and bane, luring my father right where she wanted to lure him into—distraction. “Eren is alive, too. Healthy. Stealthy.” She raised a hand, flakes of snow dancing in the air at her command. “Magical. Now, if the family reunion is quite finished, I need you to hand me my sister.”

Father took a moment to register her words, her magic and her entire presence, turning to look at me as if he had just scored the best of his luck before offering Thora, “Or you can join me.” Young she was, mouldable and formidable, but no longer a child—no longer his child.

There was a small beat of silence while my sister blinked at him. “Your humour is unscathed from old age and insanity, papa. How impressive.”

“Order your men, Silas,” Melanthe seethed, grabbing onto his arm. “This is an attack.”

That caught Thora’s attention. “Stepmother, how is little sister?” She made a few small cautious steps forward and gave her a smile. “Can’t wait to get my hands on the little thing.” Her emerald eyes flashed with something colder than ice despite the soft expression she wore.

Melanthe shot a panicked look at my father before her magic thickened, fortifying the barrier between us and her despite the restricted nature in this part of the land. As if knowing things were about to go absolutely wrong, the witch’s attention snapped to me. An unspoken threat if I dared make a move.

“They sent you to get her?” father asked, doubtful and entertained.

Thora straightened her fringe with a finger. “I might not be the strongest out of them all, but I surely am a sweet treat to the eye. So says Alaric. But the man does adore me. Am I a treat, papa?”

That was when I noticed a figure and then two, hiding between the fog and the thin violet barrier shielding my sister. The Skye warriors silver falcon masks glistened somewhere in the distance behind them, silently waiting.

She was not alone.

And if she was here— that meant Kilian had gone to Mal.

Father narrowed his eyes on her for a moment before signalling his head.

Two beasts leaped in the air, breaking through Melanthe’s barrier and landing right before my sister.