Within the hour, I had every soldier decked out in armor, chain mail, and weapons. Their steel helmets gleamed in the fading sunlight as they stood in perfectly formed lines just inside the main castle bailey.

Vienne had been furious when I’d reported everything the Far Shore soldier had told me about the reason for Anniston’s kidnapping.

“Clear rock?” she had shrieked, tucking her newly returned daughter protectively close to her. “My child was stolen because they were upset over the fucking price of clear rock? Those bastards.”

She rarely ever cursed. It was kind of hot when she did. Made me want to snatch her against my chest and kiss the fuck out of her.

But, yeah. A neighboring kingdom was about to invade, so… Maybe later. In only my dreams, of course.

Vienne and her baby were now inside the keep, safe and sound from all the activities that were about to take place out here. And I had an army to lead into fucking battle.

“Archers to the towers,” I shouted. “Swordsmen on the ground with me.” I pointed my sword forward and started to move, my army marching in tandem with me. But as I progressed forward, Brentley, Caulder, and Soren hurried from the keep to join the fray, striding to my side.

I paused to frown at them, causing the entire army to halt behind me, a couple stumbling into the backs of others.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I scowled at the idiot royals who didn’t have a single piece of chain mail or armor protecting their entire bodies. “You’re not coming with us,” I said, because it looked a hell of a lot like they were trying to come with us.

“This is my kingdom too,” Caulder argued.

“Then you should’ve trained with us every day we were out in the back bailey practicing for this very battle. You’ll only be in the way, and I don’t have the manpower to spare to protect you. Go back inside with the women.”

Hell, I’d rather they send the women out here in their places; I was sure Allera had at least seen a battle before.

Glowering, the king drew his sword from its scabbard and held it out toward my neck. “I don’t carry this around for looks, Prince. All three of us Donnelly men were trained together by the finest swordsman in the kingdom. We can take care of ourselves.”

I narrowed my eyes before pressing a finger against the flat of his blade and pushing it away from my throat. “Fine,” I muttered. “Just don’t question my orders. You put me in charge of your army for a reason. Because I know my way around a battlefield. So let me do my job without having to stop and explain why I’m doing everything I do. Explaining will only cost us time…and lives.”

Caulder glanced toward Soren and Brentley, who both nodded. Then he turned back to me. “We’ll follow your leadership without question. Everyone here wants what’s best for the kingdom.”

I bowed my head, relenting. “Then let’s go.”

So, we marched.

Once we were outside the walls, and the gate was lifted behind us, sealing the castle closed, I could see our enemy marching determinedly our way from the sand. They had to be overheated and dehydrated after walking however many days it had taken them to get here, which should give us an advantage.

I put one arm in the air, the signal to the archers waiting on the wall to pay attention for my next command. Then I held the other arm holding my sword out away from my side to alert the ground troops to watch for their next move.

Then we waited.

When the Far Shore army moved within range, close enough for me to tell they looked like damn savages, I crinkled my eyebrows in disbelief. The soldiers who’d kidnapped Anniston had blended in to match us, but these men… They wore nothing but loose, skirt-like leather pants that fell to mid-thigh, sandals with bands crisscrossing up to their knees, no tunics whatsoever, and fur instead of metal protection. What was worse, their weapons consisted of wooden staffs and spears, a couple battle axes, and that was it. I blinked, faltering, because it almost seemed inhumane to kill such primitive idiots. But then they shouted out their battle cry in unison and charged, sprinting headlong in our direction.

Outdated warfare or not, they’d kill us all if we just stood here like dumbasses, so I balled my hand I was holding above my head into a fist.

Instantly, a volley of arrows spewed past my head, many of them striking the unprotected enemies rushing toward us. Their front line collapsed, some cut down with instant death blows, others diving forward and hunkering behind their fallen comrades to take cover.

I swung my sword forward from at my side, and my ground troops engaged. Just as the first wave was nearly upon them, the soldiers I had hiding in the woods came streaming out from the trees, converging on them from either side, some wrapping around from behind, until we had them fully surrounded.

By their stunned, unorganized, scrambling reaction, they must not have been expecting Donnelly to know how to fight. We had the upper hand from the beginning; it almost felt unfair how badly we commenced to trounce them. But what stunned me most was the swordsmanship of the three royal Donnelly men. Caulder slew three men while both Brentley and Soren took out one a piece as soon as the battle lines merged.

I was so busy lifting my eyebrows with an impressed nod that I almost missed the battle axe swinging at my own head. Cursing, I ducked just in time and gutted the idiot as his axe sliced across the air above me. Then I took out four more soldiers who’d been trying to box me in.

We were winning easily. At least five to ten Far Shore soldiers fell to every one of ours. This battle would be ours in no time. Many of theirs retreated, even as their commanders shouted for them to hold their positions. The Donnellean army took out half of Far Shore’s army—the ones who remained to fight and didn’t run off, anyway—in a matter of minutes.

Adrenaline pumped through my bloodstream. This was working. We were driving them back.

I’d just beheaded some poor unfortunate soul when my mark suddenly screamed out in terror.

Vienne.

She wasn’t just scared, she was in grave danger, terrified for her life.

I had to get to her. Now.

“Keep driving them back,” I yelled to Brentley, who was the closest to me. “They’ll surrender soon. And when they do, round up the prisoners into chains before they can change their mind and try to keep fighting.”

“What?” he cried, glancing at me as he wiped at a thin trail of blood that poured from a cut on his forehead. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re in the middle of a fucking battle here, mate!”

“I have to get back to the castle,” was all I said before I took off running toward the trees away from him. “You’re doing fine.”

“Urban!” he yelled, incredulously.

But I wasn’t going to be dissuaded from my new goal. Vienne was in trouble.

It would take too long to order them to lower the gate. Besides, I didn’t want to risk the castle in case Far Shore surprised us and managed to get the upper hand, so I veered toward the secret passage.

I scrambled through the tunnel in the dark. It felt as if it took me forever to cross under the moat and explode into the wine cellar, but it was probably only a matter of minutes.

Following the tug of fear from my mark, I ran headlong down the halls until I reached the Red Chambers where Vienne was.

Two men had her pinned to the floor, one holding down her arms while the other sat on top of her, spreading her legs apart as he lifted the skirt of her dress toward her waist.

“Hey!” I shouted, pure rage shooting through my bloodstream.

These two were going to die painfully. I was going to make damn sure of it.

They startled at my voice, and the dead man holding Vienne’s wrists immediately let go so he could spring to his feet and come at me. But the first bastard didn’t appear as if he was going to stop with his part of the rape. Worried I wouldn’t get to her in time since I had to go through the dick advancing on me first, I met Vienne’s eyes from across the room.

As soon as her gaze clashed with mine, showing me all the terror I could feel from her, I nodded and knelt to the floor, freeing my dagger from its hiding place. Then I slid it across the marble, hilt-first, in her direction.

It skidded right into her hand as she reached out her arm. As soon as her fingers wrapped around the handle, she swung it up and buried the blade just under her attacker’s chin until the end thrust out through the crown of his head.

Reassured she was taking care of herself, I finally stood from my crouched position to come up in a twirl, putting all my strength behind my swing so I could cut my own attacker, who was bearing down on me with a spear, in half when I whirled to face him. Surprise lit his features before his severed torso began to slide off the bottom half of his body and both parts thumped dully to the floor in separate pieces.

“Vienne,” I called, racing past the bisected corpse to get to her.

With a teeth-gritted grunt, she heaved the dead man on top of her off and immediately set about batting at her skirt into place to cover her exposed legs as she sat up. Breathing hard, she gaped at me from brown eyes glazed with trauma.

“Are you okay?”

I reached out to help her up, and she took my hand, nodding.

“Yeah. Thanks for the dagger.” She sounded out of breath.

Once she was standing, I smoothed her hair tenderly out of her eyes, but a red mark on her cheek made me swear under my breath. No one bruised my one true love. No one even thought about raping her. I wished I could kill the two bastards for this all over again.

“Damn,” I cursed myself. “I should’ve given you your own dagger ages ago.”

“Well, there’s no need now,” she told me on a shaky laugh as she hugged mine to her chest. “As I plan to just keep this one for the rest of my life.”

With a surprised chuckle, I bowed before her. “That would be my honor, my lady.”

She looked up into my eyes as I straightened, and we shared a moment, just looking at each other, relieved the other had survived. She seemed rattled but still solid enough to keep herself together and going. That was more than I could’ve hoped for. My relief must’ve echoed through her because before I knew it, we merged together in the same instant for a hard, fast kiss.

“Thank God you’re okay,” we said in unison.

Then, we pulled apart, me asking, “Where’s Anniston, Allera, and the others?” just as she said, “We need to go help the others.”

We shared an amused smile before she took my hand, urging me to follow. Then she yanked us from the room in a full sprint. “They were this way.”

I followed her from the Red Chambers and into a side hall.

“Why aren’t you on the battlefield,” she managed to ask over her shoulder.

“They were doing fine; didn’t need me.”

She glanced around again. “You felt me in distress and abandoned them, did you?”

I shrugged. “We were winning. Frankly, it was getting boring out there.”

With a roll of her eyes, she faced forward again and tightened her grip on my hand. “In here,” she said, steering me toward the open door of the Blue Chambers where a man’s scream flowed out to greet us.

Worried, we rushed inside together, only to skid to a halt side by side, shocked to see what we found.

In one corner of the room, Yasmin, Nicolette, who was holding a swaddled bundle to her chest, and a maid huddled together as they watched Allera in the center of the room where she stood, placing her foot in the middle of a Far Shore soldier’s chest, so she could gain enough leverage to pull the sword free of his throat that she’d just impaled him with. Two more Far Shore soldiers lay slain around her while three dead Donnelly guards were slumped lifeless near each entrance.

Pushing the dead Far Shore soldier to the floor with her foot as she freed her weapon, Allera huffed out a breath and swept a sweat-clogged piece of dark hair out of her eyes, only succeeding in smearing blood across her cheek. Then she turned to us.

“I’ve got these three,” she panted, half out of breath. “And I assume you pair took out the other one. So, then, where are the rest of our boys? Is Brentley—”

But before she could even finish the question, her husband’s voice carried down the hall and into the room.

“Here,” he ordered. “Carry him in here. And have a care. Gently now.”

I exchanged a questioning frown with Vienne before we hurried to the door together and out of the room, to find the hall packed full with soldiers and servants. The crowd was so thick it was impossible to tell who the group of men was carrying into the dining hall. Brentley urged them to go quickly, declining the offer of a healer as he went.

“What the hell?” I said, striding forward.

Why was everyone back inside the castle, not out on the battlefield?

“Brentley?”

He swung around, unfiltered rage filling his expression. “You!” he roared, swinging out a fist. “You damn bastard.” I ducked even as he demanded, “Where the hell did you go?”

“I felt Vienne in distress,” I said simply, lifting my hands in peace when he looked as if he may swing again. “So I had to check on the ladies. And it’s a good thing I did. More Far Shore men than we originally thought had stolen inside the keep when they kidnapped Anniston. But they’re all dead now. What happened here? Why is no one out on the field, still fighting?”

“Because the battle’s over,” Brentley boomed. “It ended almost as soon as you ran off. Most of them fled, but the few who stayed were rounded up and chained to be dealt with later, just as you instructed.”

I nodded, beyond impressed by what had been done without me.

Brentley didn’t seem so pleased with his own accomplishments, though. He continued to glare as if I’d betrayed him.

“What the hell is your problem then?” I demanded, growing annoyed when he stalked toward me to push me in the chest.

“My problem is that you left,” he roared. “If you’d just fucking stayed, Caulder might not have been wounded.”

My mouth fell open. “Wounded? How bad?”

His anger drained away as sorrow filled him. “Fatally,” he finished in a choked voice.

“Caulder?” Nicolette said in a small voice as she came up behind us and heard the report.

“What! Where?” Yasmin shrieked, hurrying past me and Brentley to streak into the dining hall.

When a scream followed from within, Vienne took Anniston from Nicolette’s arms so the young princess could hurry in to see her brother as well.

Allera moved to her husband’s side and took his hand. He pulled her closer even as he stepped toward me and narrowed his eyes. “Make sure the family has some privacy,” he muttered with a glance toward everyone crowded in the corridor. “To say goodbye.”

I gulped but nodded. From inside the dining hall, Nicolette called, “Brentley, hurry! He’s asking for you.”

Brentley turned from me so he and Allera could rush into the room with Vienne following behind.

I drew in a breath and turned to the worried soldiers and servants. I told them about the dead bodies littered around the castle and sent them off to clean up the messes. To the rest who remained, I said, “The royal family requests privacy at this time. If you’d all go wait in the entrance hall until further instructions…”

Nodding, they trudged away, some of them with tears in their eyes.

Once they were gone, I stepped quietly into the dining hall. They’d laid Caulder out on one end of the L-shaped banquet table as if he were to be his own last meal.

Brentley, Allera, and Nicolette hovered at his left side while Yasmin, Soren, and Vienne with little Anniston gathered to his right, almost as they did every night for the royal dinner.

Nicolette wept into Allera’s arms while Caulder turned his face toward his brother as he spoke. All the while, his wife buried her nose into the crook of the king’s neck, sobbing as her husband petted her hair gently with grey, blood-stained fingers. A solemn Soren and Vienne stood regretfully behind her.

I moved closer, spotting the stain steadily growing in the cloth covering his chest. Damn. A lung shot. They were probably filling with blood and suffocating him to death this very moment. His face was turning blue, his lips swollen as he gasped blood-laced words in halting jerks.

“Your throne…now…Brother.” He paused to cough, spitting up a mouthful of red froth with a gurgling sound.

“No.” Brentley shook his head. “I don’t want to be king. It was you. Always you. Stay, Caulder. You were meant for this. Not me.”

“Can’t,” Caulder gasped before his gaze slid slowly my way.

When our gazes met, he lifted his hand weakly and curled his fingers, beckoning me forward. Brentley looked up, and then backed away so I could take his spot at the king’s side.

I eased past both Allera and Nicolette, touching both their backs in comfort before kneeling next to the king.

“Your Majesty?”

“Behind,” he struggled to say, motioning his hand toward his neck, like maybe he was pointing to something over his shoulder. “From behind.” He shook his head slowly. “Never turned…back…enemy.”

I frowned, trying to make sense of his words when his eyelashes fluttered and he turned his face in toward his wife’s hair. “Yasmin,” he breathed out with his last breath, his eyes losing their light as he died.

The queen sobbed and shook her head. “No. No! You can’t leave me. NO!” She sat up, wiping at the tears that were streaming down her face. When she glanced at me, she gasped. “Maybe I can save him, like you saved Vienne, and she saved you. Yes. He has to be my one true love.”

No one stopped her as she pressed her mouth frantically to Caulder’s, but no one expected the kiss to work either.

“No,” she ordered, kissing him again, harder this time. “This isn’t fair. He was my one true love. Caulder, damn you, come back to me.”

Her desperation as she pressed her mouth to her dead husband’s over and over again filled my chest with a raw pain. I had to glance away, only to catch the gaze of Vienne across the table, tears streaming down her cheeks. She nodded, letting me know she felt just as horrible.

Next to me, Brentley wrapped his arms around both Allera and Nicolette as the three wept together.

Soren was the only one who stepped forward to gently take Yasmin’s shoulders in his hands. “My queen,” he said. “It’s over. He’s gone.”

“No,” she growled, shoving him away, only to sob and fling herself into his arms, where she let him pull her away from Caulder. “He can’t be gone. He just can’t be.”

As Soren held her, I returned my attention to Vienne, frowning thoughtfully as I contemplated Caulder’s last words to me.

She tipped her head to the side questioningly and mouthed, “What?”

I shook my own head slowly and shifted my gaze to the dead king.

From behind.

Never turned my back…to the…enemy?

Dear God.

Realizing what he might’ve meant, I surged forward and tore open the cloth covering his chest.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Brentley pulled away from Nicolette and Allera to grip my arm and tug me back.

“I want to see the wound,” I explained, pointing to the bloody mess I’d just revealed. “He was trying to tell me something. Warn me. He said, ‘from behind,’ and then swore he hadn’t turned his back to the enemy.”

Brentley’s eyes flared wide as he gaped incredulously at his brother’s body, “You don’t think…?”

He couldn’t seem to voice the question, so I wiped away the blood from the stab wound to reveal the cut. Once I measured it against the length of my thumb, I glanced at my brother-in-law. “Help me roll him over.”

He nodded, and we worked together to ease Caulder’s body onto his side and then stomach.

“What the devil are you two doing?” Soren asked, finally noticing what we were about.

I cast him a hard glance and returned to my work, ripping away enough cloth to find the back wound.

“Here,” Brentley said when it was discovered. Together, we wiped until I could measure this cut as well. All the while, I cursed myself for being an idiot, upset I hadn’t taken the time to cover Caulder in armor from head to toe like the rest of the soldiers. What the hell had I been thinking? He was the fucking king! I was such a damn fool.

When I finished measuring the length of his back wound, Brentley cursed and stepped back, hanging his head.

“What?” Vienne asked, easing closer. “What did you find?”

I glanced at her, shaking my head sadly. “He was killed from behind,” I explained. “Stabbed in the back. And not only that, but it’s a sword wound. I don’t remember any Far Shore soldiers on that field actually using a sword.”

“You’re right.” Brentley nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t either. But there were some spears. Could it be a—”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Those would go all the way through, so the entrance and exit wounds would be comparable in size. A sword has to stop when it reaches the hilt and then come back out, making the entrance wound larger than the exit. Plus, he said he didn’t put his back to the enemy. So I think he was trying to say he knew he’d been betrayed.” I glanced toward Brentley, then Allera, and finally, Nicolette apologetically. “A Donnellean killed him.”

Brentley shook his head insistently and backed another step away, refusing to believe it. “A traitor?” He pressed his hand to his brow and glanced worriedly at his wife and then back to me. “You think it was whoever helped the Far Shore soldiers into the castle to kidnap Anniston in the first place? The bearer of dark magic?”

I nodded. “Probably, yes.”

“But, no.”

At those words, I whirled to Vienne, who’d spoken as she shook her head. “No,” she said again, frowning out her confusion. “That’s impossible. I just figured out who betrayed us to Far Shore.” She looked baffled until suddenly, her eyes cleared with realization. “Unless there are two traitors.”

Then she turned to look directly at her sister who was still nestled in the arms of her husband.