Soren jerked his arms from around my weeping sister as soon as my accusative gaze landed on him.

“What the hell?” he said, scowling at me, his body tensing and already bracing for a fight.

Which was actually pretty smart, as Urban pounced, striding forward and demanding, “Let me see your sword.”

Soren gaped at him, lurching backward. “Absolutely not. Why would you—hey!”

Urban grasped the hilt of Soren’s sword where it hung from his waist and yanked it free from its scabbard. My husband haughtily shoved him back, but Urban didn’t seem to notice; he was too busy examining the blade.

Nicolette covered her mouth in horror, her muffled words shrieking, “Oh God. It’s covered in blood.”

Soren sent her a dry scowl. “That’s because I killed at least a dozen Far Shore soldiers .”

“And one of them must’ve been wearing the same tunic as Caulder,” Urban announced. “Even though none of them wore tunics. A piece of cloth got caught on your hilt.” Gritting his teeth, Urban tugged at a ragged bloody piece of material. It refused to let go of its hold on Soren’s sword so Urban nearly had to rip it in half.

He held up the section he was able to free and moved it close to the king’s dead body to compare. Everyone shifted forward for a better look.

“Holy shit,” Allera uttered. “It matches.”

As she shook her head, Nicolette gasped and turned into Brentley’s chest for comfort. He hugged her, all the while his gaze lifted across the table to Soren.

“You did this?”

His cousin lifted his hands and slowly began to back away. “No. I didn’t—”

But Yasmin rounded on him, pounding on his chest with her fist. “Oh God, you did! You killed him. You killed my husband. Your king!”

She pushed him back, following him as he tripped away from her. “How could you? How—”

Sighing, I rolled my eyes. “Oh, spare us the dramatic act, Sister. You’re the one who helped him.”

At my announcement, everyone in the room collectively stopped what they were doing to gape at me. When Soren lifted his face, his eyes wide with shock, the others simply blinked as if I’d lost my mind. Yasmin was the last to turn around, revolving slowly until all her attention was solely on me.

“What did you just say?” she asked, each word deliberate and enunciated to the fullest.

I lifted a single eyebrow. “Do you deny it?”

She narrowed her eyes, unspeaking.

I glanced at my fallen king. “I mean, Caulder’s death was all part of the plan, wasn’t it? And Brentley’s too, I assume, as he’s one more royal seat to get out of the way before Soren could take the throne. Then you would’ve had to deal with only me and Anniston—because she was never supposed to survive her kidnapping.”

Bringing my baby to my lips, I placed a tender kiss on her forehead, all the while keeping my gaze on Yasmin.

“And then, you two could’ve lived happily ever after, except…” I sent Soren a sad smile. “I think she deceived you too, dear husband, though I’m sure she told you that was the plan, that the two of you would rule Donnelly together. Isn’t that right?”

He sniffed, saying nothing.

I shook my head. “But you see, the Far Shore men who snuck into the castle didn’t kill me as Yasmin probably promised you they would. No, they were here to help her escape. She was leaving you as well, probably to be with her other lover. I mean…” I shifted an acidic gaze toward Yasmin, “Prince Murdock did claim—before I took his life—that you two had fornicated together.”

As Nicolette gasped, Soren’s mouth dropped open. He whirled his incredulous gaze toward Yasmin.

“You fucked Murdock?”

“No!” Yasmin shrieked, stamping her foot before glaring my way. “Don’t listen to her, Soren. She’s a fucking liar. I never even met with the Far Shore prince without you there.”

Soren looked momentarily uncertain.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I murmured to him with what sounded like perfect, heartfelt sympathy as I pressed a hand to my chest. “Did you think she truly loved you? Did you believe you were the only one she was being unfaithful to her husband with? Did she make you feel special?”

“Shut up,” he growled. “Shut your lying, fucking mouth. I killed my cousin for her. My best friend. I planned to kill my other cousin and my wife. My parents. My child! All so we could rule Donnelly together. Dammit, she wouldn’t betray me. She does love me.”

“That’s right, I do,” Yasmin cooed, touching his arm in comfort before she twisted her expression with irritation and narrowed her eyes my way. “You’re really grasping at straws now, Sister. And here, you must’ve thought you were so smart. That you knew it all.”

“I think I’m finally figuring a few things out,” I said softly.

“What I don’t understand,” Urban spoke up, “is why I wasn’t included in this kill list?” He stepped boldly to my side. “Honestly, that stings. Did you think I’d just stand aside and let you kill my one true love?”

“Oh, I imagine you were supposed to die in that carriage explosion. Or today during battle.” I glanced Yasmin’s way. “Right?”

“Wait, what?” Soren roared, gaping at Yasmin in utter shock.

“I mean, you were the one who suggested that Urban go check out the abandoned carriage,” I went on, studying the increasing impatience growing on her face. “So it only goes to show he was the intended target there. I’m sure you thought he’d just leap forward and do your bidding without any caution to his own safety because he’s just that kind of protector. But that’s not quite what he did, was it? You forgot to take into account how accurate his gut instinct is when trouble’s afoot.”

“That was you?” Soren demanded of the queen. “You set up the carriage explosion? Dammit, Yasmin. Why didn’t you warn me? I almost died from that.”

Yasmin sent him a hard, annoyed glance. “Well, I never told you to hop forward and look inside the carriage, now did I? I needed you alive, in charge of Donnelly… So I could more easily crush it once I took over Far Shore.”

Soren gasped, clutching his chest with ultimate betrayal as he backed away from her.

I sighed at his stupidity. “What I haven’t yet figured out is how you set the trap up so quickly after learning we were all going to walk to Mandalay,” I went on, tapping my chin thoughtfully only to shrug and add, “You did leave us for a spell to change into a new outfit, but that didn’t seem to take as long as I should think it would to set the trap. Then again, bearers of dark magic can accomplish many puzzling deeds, can they not?”

Soren sniffed. “Except Yasmin doesn’t possess dark magic.” Then he glanced toward her, suddenly uncertain and shifted several more feet away. “Do you?”

She ignored him, merely staring at me as if almost impressed by my deductive abilities.

“And the High Cliff priestess that was killed,” I went on. “That was you, too.”

“Oh my God,” Nicolette whimpered from somewhere behind me.

“Is all this true?” Brentley asked, appearing at my side to face off with Soren and Yasmin. “You two planned such destruction together? You brought Far Shore to our land for a war? You brought dark magic into Caulder’s castle? And you killed your king?”

Soren merely sneered at him. “I don’t have to answer to you, lard ass.”

“Yes,” Allera growled, stepping up next to him and lifting the sword she’d taken off the dead Donnelly guard to hold it near Soren’s throat. “You do. I believe you need to answer to all of us right now.”

Soren snapped his teeth at her. “I was going to kill your precious husband first today.” His glare shifted toward Brentley. “But the aggravating chunk of blubber never would turn his back to me.”

Anger flashed in the High Cliff princess’s eyes as she wound her sword back to strike him.

But Brentley caught her shoulder. “Wait,” he said, still staring at his cousin. “I need more answers first.” Then he shook his head. “Why?” he choked out. “How?” Hurt filled his eyes as he studied Soren. “I can understand me, but Caulder…” He glanced longingly toward his brother’s body. “He was your best friend. You two… You were always as thick as thieves together.”

“Yes, but he’d stopped listening to me,” Soren muttered, contemptuously, snickering at the dead king. “I told him we should’ve aligned with Far Shore, but no… Some stupid cunt convinced him High Cliff would be the better choice.”

He narrowed his eyes my way, clearly blaming me for Caulder’s decision.

I glared right back, shaking my head. “So you killed him because you didn’t get your way? Mature.”

“I killed him because it was my time to rule!” he roared, filling the dining hall with his rage. “I’m the goddamn firstborn of all the Donnelly grandchildren. It was my destiny. My throne! Just because my father was born two fucking minutes after Caulder’s was no excuse. I was older than him.” He glanced at the fallen king with more spite. “It should’ve been my crown. I killed my own parents to ascend this far. I’m not stopping now.”

With a superior glance toward Yasmin as if she were his ace in the hole, even though she’d just told him she planned to crush him once he ruled Donnelly—or maybe he assumed she was playacting when she’d said that—he turned back to us, nodding knowingly. “None of you can stop us.”

Brentley rolled his eyes. “And Far Shore?” he asked. “How did you turn them against us?”

Soren laughed sourly and shook his head. “That was actually the easiest part. They were already miffed about our alignment with High Cliff. So I merely raised their price of clear rock until they were paying more than double what everyone else in the Outer Realms was paying. That’s what really set them over the edge.”

“But—” Brentley frowned and shook his head. “Caulder refused to raise any prices. I clearly remember him saying that.”

“He did say it.” Soren nodded, his vapid smile spreading. “Except he wasn’t the one who dealt with them directly. I was. He trusted me to take care of that, to charge the prices he wanted charged.” With a shrug, he let out a rueful grin. “But oops. I must’ve misheard his instructions.”

“You bastard,” Brentley hissed, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.

Soren shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible. My mother had many lovers. But let’s get back to my brilliance, shall we? My favorite part in all this was when I wrote the same income into Donnelly’s budget reports as before, but pocketed the rest? And do you know what I did with the secret overflow?” His eagerness to reveal his brilliance made him throw back his head and laugh. “I gave it back to Far Shore to help them raise their army against you. Ironic justice, huh?”

He slapped his thigh and laughed because he was so tickled by his devious scheme. “Now that they’ve helped me take out the king—and then you next, Cousin Brentley—I’ll assume the crown and break my alliance with High Cliff so we can finally merge forces with Far Shore…as we were always meant to do.”

“And you still believe this plan is going to work?” Urban asked incredulously.

Soren just grinned at him. “The only people in my way is everyone in this room. And I just learned my lover is the bearer of dark magic. So I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

“Challenge accepted.” Allera raised her sword again, but this time, it was Urban who grasped her arm.

“No. He’s Vienne’s husband. Anniston’s father. You can’t just—”

“Trust me,” I said dryly. “I feel no attachment whatsoever for this monster. He planned to kill my child and betray my entire kingdom. And he’s stupid enough to believe Yasmin’s going to continue to back him. I’d just as soon he rot in hell than breathe another day in my realm.”

“Well, in that case…” Allera turned gleefully back to Soren.

But he only laughed, standing proudly against her without a single weapon as if he were invincible. “You people are idiots. Yasmin does have my back. Seriously, why would she leave me for the Far Shore prince when we’re this close to having everything? She worships the ground I walk on. She’d never let any of you even touch me, much less—”

Allera shut him up by swinging her sword and slicing open his stomach.

With a choke of surprise, Soren spent his last few seconds alive trying to catch his own guts in his hands as they tumbled from his insides and spilled to the floor. Wincing, I tucked his daughter closer to my chest so she couldn’t see, even though she wouldn’t remember it, anyway.

“That’s for wanting to kill my husband,” Allera said before she cut his throat next. “And that’s just because I don’t like you.”

Urban lifted his eyebrows. “Damn, sis.”

She glanced his way. “I told you I’d kill him someday.”

A gagging Nicolette stepped forward so she could spit on her cousin’s dying body. “And that's for Caulder,” she said just as Yasmin started to laugh.

The sound was slow at first until the queen was doubling over at the waist and holding her stomach. “Oh Lord,” she gasped, out of breath from her giggling. “Thank you. Thank you.” She glanced appreciatively at Allera. “He was truly beginning to annoy me. I mean, did you hear him? My lover will protect me. Ha! What a moron. I’m glad someone finally shut him up.”

“Oh, trust me, bitch.” Allera smiled darkly. “You’re next.”

But as soon as she swung her sword again, Yasmin lifted her own hand, fingers spread wide as she murmured, “I think not.”

She balled her hand into a fist, and just like that, the sword in Allera’s grip turned to ash, floating to the floor in a puff of white powder.

“Holy shit!” Urban exclaimed.

“My sentiments precisely,” Yasmin gasped, gaping at the dust on the marble floor that had once been Allera’s sword. “I didn’t know I could…” Spreading her fingers wide, she turned them so she could blink at her palms in astonishment. Then her lips spread into a smile. “The High Cliff priestess must’ve been more powerful than I thought. I had no idea I’d gained this many more abilities when I took her life and stole her magic.”

“Too bad you won’t get to experiment with your new powers ever again.” Dropping Soren’s sword he’d been holding, Urban pulled his own from its sheath and advanced slowly.

She sighed. “Really? After you just saw what I did to your sister’s little pocket knife?”

She lifted her hand and squeezed her fingers into another ball, but nothing happened. Frown wrinkles appeared between her eyes, and she tried to destroy his sword once again, forming another fist.

Urban kept advancing with a knowing smile. “This blade’s warded against magical destruction, sorry.”

Fear entered Yasmin’s eyes as she stumbled away from him. “You wouldn’t,” she said. “You can’t.” Her gaze darted my way. “Vienne!”

I only shook my head. I was done trying to save and protect her. “Sorry, Sister. You fucked with Anniston. You crossed the line.”

Urban wound his arm back to slay her. She squeaked out her desperation and pointed at his sword again, this time flicking her fingers until they spread out wide, instead of balling them into a fist.

Instantly, his sword turned a bright, glowing orange. With a hiss of pain, Urban cursed and dropped it so he could clutch his hand where the hot metal had burned his palm. As it clattered to the floor, smoke curled up from where it instantly cooled again.

“Indestructible, maybe,” Yasmin concluded, grinning broadly. “But its temperature can still be altered.”

Urban smirked at her as he shook off his hand wound. “I don’t need a sword to kill you with my bare hands.”

Yasmin smirked back. “Oh? Did you get a ward to make yourself indestructible to magic, then, too?” Lifting her hand, she curled her fingers into a fist and stared him in the eyes.

He took one more step, only to pause and clutch his throat. A moment later, he dropped to his knees, gasping for breath as invisible bands choked him.

Yasmin threw back her head and laughed. “Bye, bye, pretty prince.”

Oh God. She was killing him.

“Urban!” I screamed.