“Come on, Bryce,” Hunt murmured, and prayed to Cthona to keep his mate safe.
Cloaked in shadows, Ruhn raced down the halls, encountering no one. Not one guard.
It was too quiet.
The hall opened into a wide fork: To the left lay the dungeons. To the right, the stairs up to the palace proper. He went left without hesitation. Down the stairs that turned from cloudy quartz to dark stone, like the life had been sucked from the rock. His skin chilled.
These dungeons … Athalar had made it out, but most never did.
Ruhn’s stomach churned, and he slowed his pace, readying himself for the gauntlet ahead. Checkpoints of guards—easy enough to avoid with his shadows—locked doors, and then two halls of cells and torture chambers. Day had to be somewhere in there.
Screams began leaking out. Male, thankfully. But they were wrenching. Pleading. Sobbing. He wished he could plug his ears. If Day was making a similar sound, in such agony …
Ruhn kept going—until Mordoc stepped into his path with a feral grin. He sniffed once, that bloodhound gift no doubt feeding him a host of information before he said, “You’re a long way from cavorting with spies in the alleys of Lunathion, Prince.”
Tharion raced behind Cormac, a shield of water around them as the prince hurled ball after ball of fire into the chaotic, smoky lab. Chunks of rupturing machines flew toward them, smoldering—and Tharion intercepted them as best he could.
The doctor had led them right into the lab without a second thought. Cormac had put a bullet through the male’s head a moment later, then ended the lives of the screaming scientists and engineers around him.
“Are you fucking insane?” Tharion screamed as they ran. “You said we’d limit the casualties!”
Cormac ignored him. The bastard had gone rogue.
Tharion snarled, half debating whether to overpower the prince. “Is this any better than what Pippa Spetsos does?”
Tharion got his answer a second later. Gunfire crackled behind them, and rebels stormed in. Right on time.
Imperial Vanir reinforcements roared as they rushed in—and were drowned out by the barrage of guns. An ambush.
Would it be enough to draw the Asteri’s attention away? Cormac had incinerated the jeep with his fire magic moments before they’d shot the doctor—surely that would warrant a message to the Asteri. And this shitshow unfolding …
Cormac skidded to a stop, Tharion with him. Both of them fell silent.
A familiar female, clad in black and armed with a rifle, stepped into their path.
Pippa pointed the gun at Cormac. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” Her rifle cracked, and Cormac teleported, but too slowly. His powers were drained.
Blood sprayed a moment before Cormac vanished—then appeared behind Pippa.
The bullet had passed through his shoulder, and Tharion launched into movement as Pippa twisted toward the prince.
Tharion was stopped by shaking ground, though. A glowing, electrified sword plunged into the floor in front of him.
A mech-suit sword.
Cormac shouted to Tharion, “Get out of here!” The prince faced off against Pippa as the woman fired again.
Tharion knew that tone. Knew that look. And it was then that he understood.
Cormac hadn’t just gone rogue. He’d never intended to get out of here alive.
The door marked Dusk had been left unlocked. Bryce supposed she had Declan to thank for the dead electronic keypad.
Braziers of firstlight glowed in the corners of the room, dimly illuminating the space. A round table occupied the middle. Seven seats around it.
Her blood chilled.
A small metal machine sat in the center of the table. A projection device. But Bryce’s attention snagged on the stone walls, covered in paper.
Star-maps—of constellations and solar systems, marked up with scribbled notations and pinned with red dots. Her mouth dried out as she approached the one nearest. A solar system she didn’t recognize, with five planets orbiting a massive sun.
One planet in the habitable zone had been pinned and labeled.
Rentharr. Conq. A.E. 14000.
A.E. She didn’t know that dating system. But she could guess what Conq. meant.
Conquered … by the Asteri? She’d never heard of a planet called Rentharr. Scribbled beside it was a brief note: A bellicose, aquatic people. Primordial land life. Little supply. Terminated A.E. 14007.
“Oh gods,” Bryce breathed, and went to the next star-map.
Iphraxia. Conq. A.E. 680. Lost A.E. 720.
She read the note beside it and her blood iced over. Denizens learned of our methods too quickly. We lost many to their unified front. Evacuated.