But it wasn’t.
Spessa’s End mattered. The people mattered. “What about the people? The ones who can’t fight.”
“They’ll be warned. We had plans in place in case this happened. They’ll be warned, and they’ll have time to get out. They’re in a better position to do so than us. We’ll have to fight our way out.” His eyes held mine. “You understand that?”
I nodded as the knot expanded. “I’m sorry—about Spessa’s End.” My voice cracked. “About Elijah. About all of them—”
“You are what matters now.” Casteel kissed me, and it was hard and fierce. A clash of teeth and fangs that tasted of blood and desperation. “You do. We do. Us surviving this. That is what matters.”
Dragging in a deep breath, I cleared my mind of the panic and sorrow, and nodded.
“You ready, Poppy?”
“Yes.”
He smiled again, but this time, his dimples appeared. “Let’s kick some ass.”
“Let’s,” I whispered.
Casteel rolled out from under the catapult and shot to his feet, thrusting his sword into the first soldier. I followed, climbing to my feet. I’d been wrong earlier. I hadn’t truly known madness until then—until they came from all sides, reaching for me when they realized who I was, stabbing and lurching at Casteel.
Sweat and blood slicked my skin, my grip on my sword and dagger perilous. I smelled and tasted and saw death. Each handful of feet we gained, we were surrounded again. The ground became oily with offal. My boots sliding as I screamed, driving the dagger into a chest. My muscles shrieked with protest as I swung the sword, slicing into necks and stomachs and arms—at anyone that got too close.
A blow caught my cheek, causing me to stumble into Casteel. Catching myself, I kicked out, dropping the man to his knees. I didn’t think twice as I drove the sword through his skull, and I couldn’t keep my senses locked down anymore. They opened, seizing my breath as my senses stretched out, forming connections with those around us, and…oh, gods, there was so much fear. The bitterness mixed with the taste of the blood, choking me as I swung, my arm knocking into Casteel’s as I stabbed at a man—
A man who was afraid.
They were afraid to die, afraid not to fight, and just…afraid. I shuddered as I turned, seeing faces young and old, white and brown and black. Their emotions poured into me. I couldn’t shut it off. Couldn’t take the time to concentrate as I moved in front of a blow meant for Casteel. A blow that was pulled back only at the last second, and then I killed him. I killed the man who projected terror into the air.
And something…something was happening inside me. It was waking up, stretching and expanding, filling my veins and causing my skin to hum as I leapt forward, slamming the wolven dagger deep into a chest, swallowing the soldier’s fear and drowning in his agony—in their fear and agony.
A hand grabbed my braid, yanking me back. My feet went out from under me, and Casteel spun. More hot blood sprayed the air, our faces. Our gazes connected as he helped me stand, and then we spun back around, hearts pounding as we tripped over bodies, as soldiers pressed in, as orders were shouted—take her, kill him, seize them both. As something exploded from deep within me, inhaling all the fear and agony and primal emotions, and all of it rose inside me. The swirling, churning mass of emotions clawed at my insides, my throat, and I needed to shut it down. I had to shut it all off—
I dropped the sword as I brought the dagger to my own throat. “Stop!” I shouted. “Stop, or I will slit my throat.”
Casteel whirled toward me. “Poppy—”
“I’ll do it,” I warned as one of the soldiers stepped up to Casteel. “I’ll cut my throat wide-open if any of you take another step forward. I doubt any of you will live if that happens. He’ll take you down.”
“I’m about to take you down,” Casteel growled.
I ignored him. “And if he doesn’t, what do you think the Duchess will do? The Queen? They’ll do what you did to your men. You’ll die. Every last one of you. That, I can promise.”
Faces paled and glances were exchanged. Several stepped back—
The sky was ripped apart by deep wails, by snapping growls and piercing howls that came from the woods and everywhere at once it seemed. It was a crescendo, a call that kept rising and rising, and was answered by yips and barks that seemed to come from the trees, from the bush surrounding the left side of the Rise, and from the western road.
The soldiers before us started to turn—
Wolven raced out from the forest, streaking over the ground and launching into the air. They were a sea of fur and claws, taking down soldiers, tearing through armor and flesh. I saw Jasper and Delano among them, Vonetta too, but there were…there had to be dozens and dozens of them, and their timing…
Their timing had been impeccable.
A large brown wolven lifted its head, ears perked. Another and another did the same, luminous pale eyes locking onto mine.
Slowly, I lowered the knife from my throat.
All of a sudden, it sounded like the Rise was coming down around us. Like a thousand boulders tumbling and falling to the ground from the sky, but the Rise still stood, and nothing, not even the stars had fallen. I swung toward Casteel.
He smirked, eyes lit from within as he took a step back, exhaling deeply.
What reminded me of thunder grew louder, and as I turned, I realized that what I’d heard was the pounding of hooves.
Pale horses poured out from between the trees and filled the western road, mud and blood streaking their legs as they kicked up dirt and grass. Moonlight glinted off golden armor and raised swords. Those blades—those horses—mowed through the lines and rows of soldiers as white banners streamed and rippled behind the pale mounts, banners bearing the golden sword and arrow lying across the sun. The crest of Atlantia.
Atlantia had come, and there were hundreds of them.
Tired muscles in my arms loosened as they charged past us, stirring the blood-soaked air and lifting the tendrils of hair that had escaped my braid. They set fire to the remaining catapults, to the wagons as they swarmed the Solis army, and I knew none would be left alive.
As the wolven followed the army, a warm, damp nose bumped my left hand, and I looked down into the pale blue eyes of a large, fawn-colored wolven.
Kieran nudged my hand again, and I opened it, revealing the golden mark and the ring on my finger.
“Yeah,” I said hoarsely. “You missed it.”
His ears perked as he looked over to where Casteel stood.
“You missed a lot,” the Prince said.
Kieran trotted over to him as I turned and saw the crimson carriage untouched.
Was she still in there? Or had she run?
I was walking before I knew, running toward the carriage, barely aware of Casteel shouting my name. I tore open the carriage door, and the Duchess hissed from the dimly lit interior. She lurched forward, catching herself on the door when she saw me.
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Penellaphe—”
I punched her in the face.
The Duchess stumbled backward, falling between the seats as she cupped her nose. Blood poured out between her fingers. “That hurt,” she seethed, glaring up at me as I climbed into the carriage.
“Things are going to hurt way worse than that,” I promised.
She lowered her hands. “When did you become so violent, Maiden?”
“I was always violent.” I caught her arm as she reached for something. My fingers curled around her cool skin. “And I was never the Maiden.”
“But you were. You always were.”
“Where is my brother?” I demanded.
“Come with me, and I’ll show you.”
I shook my head. “Where is Casteel’s brother?”
“With yours,” she said, and I didn’t believe her.
“Is he alive?”
“Which one?”
“Prince Malik.”
“How else would we have been able to Ascend Tawny if he wasn’t?”
I let go of her wrist as my stomach sunk. “You lie.”
“Why lie about that?”
“Because the Ascended do nothing but lie!”
“You know that Tawny couldn’t wait to Ascend.” She rose to her knees. “She was ecstatic when I told her the Queen had petitioned the gods for an exception, that she would Ascend. I sent her to the capital. The Queen did it for you. I told her how close you and Tawny are.”
“Shut up.”
“She wants you to be comfortable when you return home, her blooded granddaughter—” Her eyes widened as she caught sight of my hand. “What is that?” The Duchess scrambled forward, clasping my left wrist. “The imprint.” She stared at the golden swirl across my palm. “You’re married.”
I pulled my hand free as she rocked backward, laughing.
“You’re married? To the Prince of Atlantia?” Pitch-black eyes lifted to mine as a wide smile broke out across her face, revealing the fangs of both her upper and lower jaw. “If I’d known, none of this would’ve been necessary. You. Born of flesh and fire. The Queen will be so thrilled to learn you’ve done what she could never accomplish. Seized Atlantia right out from under them, under her. Our Queen will be so proud of—”
“Shut up,” I snarled, thrusting the bloodstone blade deep into her chest.