Queen of Stars and Shadows (Dark Fae Guardian #3)

Sarielle

Chapter Ten

Sarielle

M y thoughts spin in a tangled mess. Zyren is here—he saved me—but apparently only so he could deliver me to the enemy. The woman who slaughtered my family. The woman who killed his brother and brought him back to life to be her slave. The woman who stole my throne and my realm, and is intent on stealing this one, too.

Rage blacker than the deepest, darkest night rushes through my veins, and the nightmare within me surges to the surface.

But I can’t let her free, or else Zyren might get caught in the crossfire. As furious as I am, I know this isn’t his fault. He’d lost all recent memories. It’s only natural that he’s sided with his brother, as much as it breaks my heart. He has no idea the things Jonavus threatened to do to me back at the Court of Nightmares. The twisted, jealous thing he’d become when he found out that Zyren and I had fallen for each other.

The worst part is, if Avonia is here, that means she found her way through one of the other rifts. And it means she can bring an army through with her, if she hasn’t already.

All of this flashes through my head in the matter of a few moments, but before I can think on it further, a high, sharp sound echoes through the valley. Trumpets. Dozens of them. An army approaches. Dark goddess , it’s too late .

Avonia’s reinforcements are here, and Eldare will fall next, just as Valaron did.

But Zyren’s steps falter and he spins in the direction of the sound, his body tensing. Then he turns and travels back the way we’d come, picking up a jog. My ribcage bounces against his hard, muscular shoulder, the air in my lungs shoved out with each step. I want to ask what he sees, but I can’t catch my breath to draw words.

Zyren takes us down a set of stone steps on the other side of the parapet, back into the courtyard. The sound of galloping hooves and the yells of warriors fills the night. We rush toward the gap in the wall I’d entered before, but Zyren passes it, heading to the south side of the ruins. Somewhere ahead of us, I hear a yell. The blood rushes to my head and I only catch fractured images from my vantage point. Grass, stone, the mangled body of a nightmare.

Then we’re ducking through another hole in the perimeter wall. I can tell because the air warms noticeably, and the siren song of nightmare magic falls away abruptly. But we don’t make it twenty strides before the sound of galloping hooves surrounds us, so many that the ground shakes. And then, riders on horseback come up on either side of us, cutting off our escape.

Have I been saved, or is this some new enemy?

Zyren hoists me unceremoniously off his shoulder onto the ground. My visions spins as my blood redistributes through my body, and I suck in lungfuls of night air to keep from vomiting. For a few moments, I close my eyes as the sound of hoofbeats, clanging weapons, and stern voices assault my senses. Then, several sets of booted footsteps move quickly toward us.

“Don’t resist!” growls a man on the left. “Or we will separate your head from your body.”

I open my eyes. So, not saved after all.

“Get down on the ground!” shouts another warrior.

Zyren drops to his knees, hands held high. A half dozen warriors run forward, binding both of us with thick rope. They wrestle my arms behind my back quite ungently, and I let out a squeal of pain as my previously broken shoulder is wrenched backward. Zyren lets out a low growl, glaring toward the men tying me. I look up at him, surprised by the reaction, but when I meet his gaze, his expression turns impassive and he looks away from me, as if remembering that I’m the enemy.

After we’re thoroughly bound, the warriors haul us to our feet. One rider leads me behind him by a loose length of rope attached to my wrists, and another leads Zyren. The battalion turns and begins to move back toward the ruins. We skirt the abandoned castle, and when we reach the far side, we merge with another group of warriors. I catch glimpses of several other figures bound as we are, moving in between the horses. My neck cranes, trying to see who they are.

I catch sight of Owyn, and his eyes meet mine through the milling bodies of horse and rider. “Sarielle!” he yells, to which he receives a swift kick in the head from the rider next to him. I flinch, and when he looks back up at me, I mouth “are you okay?” He nods. Zara and Asher are among the riders, too. No doubt they could have fought off some of the warriors, but there must be a hundred riders here. And we’d just battled dozens of nightmares.

I realize, with a rush of adrenaline so swift it hurts, that my three companions aren’t the only prisoners. It’s not Avonia or Jonavus, either. There are more than a dozen strangers, women and men both. They must be the people the nightmares abducted, the survivors. My heart pounds so violently in my chest that I can’t breathe for a moment. My eyes strain, searching the face of each in the moonlight, trying to catch a glimpse between the sea of horses.

A man with brown hair, dark skin; a woman with long, gray hair; a young girl I recognize from the Amethyst Palace, no older than fifteen…

And then my heart stops.

Golden hair, skin smudged with dirt and purple with bruises, but a face so familiar to me that I could etch it a thousand times…

“ Lilette! ” I scream, my voice splitting the night.

Her head whips up and rotates in my direction, face stricken. Those brown eyes meet mine, and shock flashes across them. Shock, followed by a smile so big it could swallow the moon.

“Sarielle!” She surges toward me, running to the end of her rope. “Sarielle!”

“Lilette!” I cry again, pulling toward her, tugging against my bonds.

And that’s when the fist of the warrior next to me collides with my cheek, and darkness takes me.