Lorian caught the amulet in his hand. And he laughed—a wild, exultant laugh.
Dread exploded in my stomach.
Lorian was somehow growing bigger before my eyes. Distantly, I could hear Asinia screaming something. But I couldn’t make it out over the sound of thunder.
Lightning lit up the sky.
Lorian’s ears grew longer. Longer and pointed. His eyes were no longer that familiar forest green. No, they blazed emerald, his irises silver.
Fae.
He was fae.
I’d thought he was a hybrid. Like me. Thought we were fighting for the same cause.
Something deep inside my chest cracked open, and I gasped at the pain. Lorian’s eyes met mine once more. As if he’d somehow heard that intake of breath.
“Fae scum,” the king roared. “You will burn for your deception!”
Lorian smiled—that slow, feral killing smile. I slid off the horse and turned back toward King Sabium, my knees so weak I stumbled.
I should be dead by now. But—
Lightning flashed, hitting each arrow as they flew toward us. The kind of power rumored to be nothing more than myth.
My gaze found the other mercenaries. Except they weren’t mercenaries at all. All of them were taller, broader. All had pointed ears and eyes that glowed.
It suddenly made sense. Why they were so closed-mouthed about their powers.
Rythos couldn’t just make people like him. Marth didn’t only have the ability to see glimpses of the past. These men didn’t have just one magical ability. They had many. But their power had been hugely diminished for some reason. And they wanted it back.
Because they were fae. That was why they were here. They’d each only ever told me about their main power. I’d believed them, because I’d never expected otherwise.
A crown of lightning wreathed Lorian’s head before it became a ball of sparks, shooting at the guards once more.
“It’s the Bloodthirsty Prince!”
I bent in two, hands on my knees. It was my heart that had cracked open. It had broken so violently, I could have sworn I was bleeding out.
Lorian wasn’t just fae. He was the fae prince who had leveled Crawyth. The fae prince who had murdered my real parents.
The hole inside me, the one I hadn’t even realized had begun to fill…it was empty once more.
“You can’t kill him yet, Lorian!” Galon roared.
The guards were still firing arrows at us. Arrows that Lorian continued to destroy with his lightning. The guards began to scatter, backing away despite the king’s roaring orders.
The stone women…exploded. Small rocks flew into the guards, causing several of them to fall to their knees.
Lorian slowly turned his head in that strange…fae way of his. I’d noticed those differences and ignored them. Ignored them, because I didn’t want to see. Ignored them, because I’d been close to falling in love with him.
The air crackled. Thunder roared. Lorian lifted a hand. And the closest guards—the ones who’d listened to the king and stayed…Lorian’s bolts struck them with one blow. A gruesome, instant death.
The king turned and kicked his horse, fleeing. Most of his guards followed him.
Lorian’s gaze was almost wistful as he watched them go. His mind likely on murder once more. But he turned away, dismounted, and prowled toward me. I felt like a rabbit that could sense a hawk circling above her, ready to strike.
Prey.
Around us, everyone was silent. It had also become strangely silent in my head, as if my thoughts were far away.
“That was a good throw,” Lorian said. As if we were in training and he was giving me advice on my form.
I ignored the compliment. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His expression tightened. “I wanted to. But I couldn’t. It was too important.”
He gestured at Rythos and the others, who were now radiating power. Power I’d given them with that amulet.
“I have a gift for you, Prisca.” Even Lorian’s voice sounded different. Colder than ever.
Something in me recoiled. “I don’t want anything from you.”
A faint smile appeared on his face, and for a second, he looked so much like my Lorian that my chest ached.
“Oh, I think you want this.”
He leaned over to the closest prisoner, a young man who went still in the way of a terrified animal. Lorian put one finger to the man’s temple and burned a blue mark into it.
One identical to the priestess’s mark.
I stared at Lorian. Turned out I wasn’t too proud to take that gift.
“Everyone, line up,” I called to the prisoners, my gaze still on the fae prince.