Each time Aerity struggled, she felt a burning sensation in her skin where the women held her wrists, and something inside her would burst into pain, or she would simply not be able to breathe for a moment. They’d also done something to her jaw, locked it so that she could not open it to scream. Their power over her was terrifying.
Inside the house was dark. The women shoved her to the floor and turned to go. She felt her jaw release once their hands were off her. They left her in complete darkness. Aerity scrambled to her feet just as a flame was lit. And then another. And another. Prince Vito and two guards—one of whom was Martone. They were in a single-room house with only one door. Aerity lunged for the exit, but Martone grabbed her around the waist and flung her into a chair.
Martone stepped away, leaving her in the chair while he blocked the door and the other Kalorian stood in front of the single, curtained window on the side wall. Her eyes went to Vito, who stood too close, watching her with lazy amusement.
“I was always good at hide-and-seek, you know. And I appreciate a good game as much as the next.” He walked forward and leaned down into Aerity’s face, grasping the chair arms on each side of her. His breath was sour. “But I am quite done chasing you now.”
His eyes lifted from hers at the sounds of tromping feet, shouting, and arrows whizzing. It sounded as if they were fighting just outside the cottage. Aerity opened her mouth to scream, but Prince Vito struck her with the back of his hand, slinging her face to the side in a starburst of pain. She brought a hand up to her mouth, tasting blood where her teeth cut her lip. Aerity pressed away from him in the chair, shaking uncontrollably as she said, “You can kill me, but you will not win this.”
A slow grin came to his face. “Death is too kind for you now. You will be my wife. You will serve me in every way.”
“Never.”
“To keep your brother alive? I think yes.”
Donubhan . . . Aerity turned to a statue under his scrutinizing gaze. Seas no. Vito began to chuckle as she envisioned the Isle of Evie under attack, and Donnie being captured by these monsters. If they had him, they had the entire royal family.
“The first thing we did,” murmured Prince Vito, “was to shave those vile red curls from his head with our sharpest blade.”
Aerity shut her eyes and her body convulsed. She couldn’t take it. Outside voices were getting closer. The prince looked at the spare guard and ordered in Kalorian, “Bring the cart around now. The fighting wasn’t supposed to get this close.”
The prince turned his head to steal a look outside as the guard left. Aerity took the opportunity. She lunged forward and brought her knee straight into the prince’s crotch as hard as she could, but instead of him doubling over, it was she who cried out at the blast of pain in her knee. He wore some sort of protective metal covering. He swung again, this time hitting her ear, making her entire head ring. Aerity screamed, and Vito laughed once again.
“We can keep going,” he said as she cowered. “I’m enjoying this very much.”
When the ringing had almost stopped she stood, bracing herself, and faced him. Outside the door, a vicious, animalistic roar split the air, causing Prince Vito’s eyes to widen.
“I thought the beasts had remained on royal lands,” he said to Martone. Aerity’s hopes rose. If it wasn’t one of their creatures . . .
Something crashed into the door like a battering ram and sent it flying clean off its hinges, sliding to the middle of the room. Furball stood on his hind legs, his mane touching the ceiling, and roared so loudly it shook the walls. Prince Vito’s face transformed from his usual look of smugness to an ashen pallor.
Aerity pointed at the prince and yelled, “Attack!”
Furball’s paws stretched wide, his bright, sharp claws shining in the candlelight, but he was distracted when Martone brandished a sword. Furball swiped out in a fast movement that sent Martone’s hand, with the sword in it, flying across the room in a gory splatter. The prince backed away against the wall as Furball leaped onto Martone, and Aerity ran out the door.
The house next to them was on fire, blinding, hot, and loud. A cart tore up next to her and the prince’s other guard jumped down. An arrow swooshed by and the guard gurgled wetly as the arrow pierced his neck. He fell to the side, swiping at it.
“Aerity!” Paxton ran forward, bow in hand. Her eyes went straight to the stained, torn sleeve.
“You’re hurt!”
He shook his head. “Mrs. Rathbrook healed me.” He looked to the open doorway.
“Prince Vito’s in there,” Aerity said. “Furball attacked Martone. And, oh, seas . . . they have Donubhan!”
Paxton put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find him.” He nocked another arrow and sidled next to the doorway, peering in. His eyes went from side to side before stopping, a deep frown etching his face.
“Furball come!” he shouted. His eyes went to Aerity. “The prince must have fled through the window.”
Curses! She looked in, and sure enough, the room was empty with nowhere to hide. The window was wide open, with scratch marks from where Furball had apparently tried to give chase but couldn’t fit. Martone’s carcass lay in the middle of the floor. Aerity covered her mouth and backed away.
“Aer!” Wyneth’s voice rounded the corner of the burning building. She, Vixie, and Mrs. Rathbrook appeared, flanked by Harrison.
Paxton grasped her arm. “All four of you need to get in this cart and go north to cross the lake. I’ve got to find the prince.”
Aerity swallowed hard, sick at the thought of Pax facing Vito, but somebody had to stop the madman.
“Wait.” Harrison sprinted up, pulling something metallic from his waist and handing it to Paxton. “Smoke bomb.” Pax took it and ran to search behind the house.
Seas be with him.
Aerity hurriedly waved a hand to the other girls and they ran faster. Furball came through the door, his jowls dark with blood, just as Wyneth halted, breathing hard. She made a horrified face at the gore covering him.
“Good boy, Furball,” Harrison said, earning a satisfied grunt from the beast. “Now, let’s go. Ladies, in. Furball will have to run beside us.” Aerity took his hand and climbed up. It was identical to the one she’d been in before, and it gave her a shiver to remember. The other three climbed swiftly in, and the cart lightly dipped as Harrison took his spot at the reins. “Hang on!” he shouted.
But there was nothing to hang on to. They grasped the seats and one another as the carriage shot forward, bumping over rocks and tilting upward from the slant of the hill. Aerity’s mind went to Paxton trying to find Prince Vito, and she clutched her stomach. She hoped he could get a good shot so he wouldn’t have to be within arm’s reach of the man. Seas, keep him safe.
Hand-to-hand combat did not suit Tiern. He’d been fine shooting arrows from behind an overturned market table. In fact, a sense of calm had come over him, causing his aim to be steady and more accurate than ever. One after another, he took down Kalorians. But when he’d shot his last arrow and saw a soldier preparing to shoot the youngest Zandalee, Zaleek, from behind, he snatched a dagger from his waist and sprinted, plunging the knife into the man’s neck.
Nay, the crunch and blood, coupled with the dying man’s last struggle to fight, was not Tiern’s idea of fun. Perhaps that made him less of a man, but so be it. Zaleek seemed impressed enough. When she spun to see Tiern taking the Kalorian down to the ground, wiping his dagger on his trouser leg as he stood, Zaleek had waggled her eyebrows up and down before turning to fight again.
Tiern didn’t have a sword like the soldiers battling around him, so he didn’t dare attempt hand-to-hand with the enemy. He ran about, collecting arrows, trying not to wince at the sounds of ripping arrowheads from dead bodies. Getting lost in a sea of forward-moving fighting, Tiern grasped a branch of the nearest tree and hoisted himself up. He shot his quiver full of arrows, aiming at Kalorians who were about to take down Zorfinans, and picking them off one by one in rapid succession. One of them pointed up at him, and another turned to shoot. Tiern hunkered down and the arrow stuck directly into the branch beneath him. He quickly took down that Kalorian before he could aim at him again.
From his vantage point he could see a horde of Lochlan soldiers battling the three monsters in front of the west commons. Roaring and snarling ripped through the air, but the sheer number of Lochlans attacking were enough to overpower the creatures. A surge of excitement burned through Tiern.
After another half hour of fighting alongside the Zorfinans, the enemy was cleared out of the market area, so the allies moved forward, toward the castle. The ships had truly saved them, taking out hundreds of Kalorians and distracting them while the Zorfinans stormed the southern gates to attack from behind.
When Lochlan and Ascomannian vessels docked and soldiers came flooding out, it didn’t take much longer to overcome the Kalorians. Together, the Lochlans, Ascomannians, and Zorfinans raised a cheer that seemed to go on forever. All that was left was the castle, which appeared strangely unguarded, no archers or soldiers anywhere in sight. It made no sense to Tiern. They should have been heavily guarding their prince.
As military leaders began shouting orders, their remaining troops spread out around the castle. Those who had shields held them up against possible assailants from within. Tiern watched as the elite soldiers and the Zandalee moved up the front steps, opened the doors, and rushed inside with war cries. He held his breath, waiting for an onslaught. He peered up at the balcony and parapet walkway, then the rooftop, all empty. What in the lands of Eurona was going on?
After ten minutes, Zandora came to the doorway and shook her head, looking vexed. He climbed the steps to her.
“It is empty,” she said.
“But how?” he asked. “Surely someone would have seen them come out.”
“Do you know the location of the underground shelter you spoke of?”
He nodded. “Follow me.”
He’d not been there himself, but he’d heard the others talk about it. He, Zandora, and five other Zandalee readied their bows and pulled the bowstrings taut as they took the steps down to the cellar. When they came to the back pantry room and it was empty, he motioned toward the chest. Still holding his bow, he slowly lifted the lid with his boot and flung it upward. Seven bows pointed down the empty shaft.
Tiern climbed down first, with Zandora behind him. They both unsheathed their daggers and kicked the panel door open to see a long, dim, empty room. They walked inside through the beds and disarray. The other Zandalee joined them. And then Tiern’s eyes landed on an open chest at the end of the room. He ran to it.
Once again the seven of them pointed their bows down into a shaft with a ladder. Tiern looked at Zandora.
“I didn’t know about this one. There must be tunnels out of the castle.”
Zandora exhaled and shook her head. “He has escaped. We must send warning.”
“If it’s not already too late,” Tiern said.
Paxton could feel the prince’s power, that zing of heat along his skin. If he could feel the prince, he was certain the man could feel him too. Paxton couldn’t believe his luck that he might find the Kalorian leader without his guards. This would be his one and only chance to kill the man.
Nearby burning houses sent shadows leaping and falling along the ground and trees and smaller cottages on the outskirts of town. He held his bowstring taut and tried to steady his ragged breathing while he searched. As he neared a cottage, the feel of Lashed power became even stronger.
He’s hidden within, Paxton thought. He wondered what makeshift weapon the devious man might have crafted for himself. He thought of the last house, and how the prince had escaped through the window. Paxton snuck around to the back of the cottage and found a window the same size as the other had been. He nodded to himself and went back to the front.
He felt at his waist for the black powder smoke bomb Harrison had given him. He backed away from the house, lit the wick between his fingers, watched it burn halfway down, then launched the thing straight through the front window’s shutter.
Paxton sprinted around the cottage to the back and crouched, arrow pointed. It was much darker back there without the firelight. Within seconds the window was being pried open by thin hands and the prince’s coughing face was peering out. Paxton waited with his heart in his throat. His instinct was to shoot, but he needed to find out where the young prince was being held.
When Prince Vito’s feet hit the ground, Paxton stood and rushed forward. The prince spun, as if suddenly sensing Paxton’s presence, and he backed against the wall, brandishing a glinting dagger that could imbed itself in Paxton’s chest with a flick of the man’s wrist.
Vito snarled. “You!”
“Aye. Me.”
Apparently feeling more confident, the prince pushed away from the wall and grinned. “Why not come a little closer and we can battle like true Lashed men?”
Paxton pulled the bowstring taut. “I’m a hunter of beasts. I do not use my magic to kill for sport.”
“How many men have you killed?” Prince Vito asked.
“You will be my first.”
The prince chuckled. “Silly commoner. I am the prince of Kalor. This is not how I will die.”
Paxton knew there was no way this man would give him information about Prince Donubhan. Their only hope was to kill him and capture his lackeys for information.
Sounds of battle were close. Paxton wanted to look over his shoulder, but didn’t dare take his eyes off Prince Vito. He weighed his chances; the prince had excellent reflexes. If he shot his arrow, Vito’d likely throw his dagger at the same time. But to have the man dead would be worth his own life.
“You are a waste of Lashed blood, peasant. I should keep you alive, cage you in my room, and let you have the pleasure of watching me with your queen—”
Paxton shot, diving to the side as prince Vito threw his weapon. Both men shouted in pain. The dagger had sliced Paxton’s shoulder, while his arrow planted firmly in the prince’s thigh. Vito was now weaponless. Paxton snagged another arrow and nocked it. The prince was breathing raggedly, leaning back against the cottage wall. He let out a groaning snarl.
“You will pay for that! I will shoot arrows at you in your cage. Then heal you when you’re about to die, and do it all over again. I will bring you to the brink of death over and over until you are begging to die.”
“Enjoy your last morbid dreams. You’re nothing but an imposter.”
Vito gritted his teeth, shaking. “I. Am. The most. Powerful. Man. Alive!”
Prince Vito lunged for Paxton, who let loose his arrow. It lodged straight in Vito’s throat as the prince’s deadly fingers grazed the front of Paxton’s tunic. He jumped away.
Paxton’s heart gave a great jolt as he watched Vito fall to his knees at his feet, feeling the protruding arrow with trembling hands and bulging eyes. Pax stepped back farther. It was the first time he’d ever watched a creature suffer without putting it out of its misery, but he didn’t dare touch him. Paxton watched Prince Vito struggle and thrash on the ground until the man’s spirit finally fled, alone, behind a cottage, with no glory. And though it gave Paxton no joy, it did provide him a moment of peace. Vito was no longer the most powerful man alive.
The carriage rumbled along at an uphill slant. A bellow of agony issued from Harrison in the front, and the cart zagged from side to side. Had he been shot?
“Hold on tight!” Aerity screamed to her sister and cousin. But the cart came to an abrupt stop without tipping over.
“Harrison!” Wyneth fumbled for the door over Vixie’s lap.
“Wyn, wait—” Aerity grabbed her cousin’s skirts, but Wyneth rushed downward out of her grasp and into the night.
“Stay here,” Mrs. Rathbrook said. “He could be hurt. I will try to heal him.”
“Be careful,” Aerity begged. Mrs. Rathbrook climbed down, out of sight. Aerity shared a worried look of silence with Vixie. Several minutes passed, and Aerity felt a foreboding sense of wrongness. She reached for the door handle just as a thwump sounded. Something had hit the side of the carriage, and flames suddenly tore upward along the fabric lining. The sizzle and whoosh were deafening. Vixie screamed, and Aerity grabbed her, pushing her toward the door. They went tumbling out together, the cart engulfed in flames. The horse took off running. Aerity saw now that the driver’s seat was empty.
Two soldiers lay dead with no sign of injury and Aerity realized Mrs. Rathbrook must have killed them with magic.
“Aerity!” Wyneth ran to them, staring at the flaming cart as the horse ran. “Are you both all right?”
“Aye. Where’s Harrison?”
Wyneth pointed. At the bottom of the darkened hill Mrs. Rathbrook was leaning over him, her hands on his side. “He was hit with an arrow.”
At the sounds of movement they turned their eyes up to see troops in bright Kalorian clothing cresting a hill behind them, coming from the town center.
“Run!” Aerity shouted. Harrison and Mrs. Rathbrook were pushing gingerly to their feet when the girls made it to them. With any luck, the Kalorians would focus on the cottages, and Aerity and the others could be to the copse of trees at the top of this hill before the enemy troops noticed them. From there, they could make it down the other side and to the lake on foot. The five of them ran.
“Where is Furball?” Wyneth asked, peering back over her shoulders. And then, “Watch out!”
An arrow flew directly between her and Vixie, lodging in the dead grass. Aerity turned to see a single soldier who had spotted them.
“Keep going!” Harrison ordered them as he unsheathed his sword and charged down at a sprint toward the Kalorian who was nocking another an arrow.
“No!” Wyneth screamed.
Oh, seas. Aerity couldn’t watch; Harrison wasn’t going to get to him in time. From the corner of her eye she saw Vixie’s bow go up. With a twang, the Kalorian soldier was stumbling backward. Harrison skidded to a stop and looked back, confused.
Vixie had frozen to the spot, her bow falling to her side.
“Did I kill him?” she croaked. “I . . . I did good, right?”
“You did brilliantly,” Wyneth assured her in a shaking voice. “He would have shot Harrison.” Vixie stared at the twitching body and began to tremble. Harrison sheathed his sword and took her by the shoulder.
“Well done, princess. You’ve done nothing wrong. I owe you my life.”
Vixie covered her mouth.
Sounds of fighting were getting louder. In the moonlight and flickering fires, Aerity spotted stout gray horses dashing up the path and between houses with broad riders shouting a coldland war chant. Ascomannians were here! And beyond the far hill from the direction of the town square rose great shouts as Lochlan commoners ran up and over, pouring down the hill toward the Kalorians. Vixie gave a peal of laughter. A deep growl split the night as Furball rose up on his hind legs beside Lief on horseback, ready to fight.
“Furball!” Wyneth yelled. The beast, having amazing hearing, cocked his head in their direction and appeared torn between fighting and going to be with his mistress.
A stream of Kalorians poured forth from behind the houses, coming around to meet the Lochlans and Ascomannians head on. And they were directly in the path.
Harrison pointed up the hill and shouted, “Go! He’ll be fine!”
“Harrison!” Wyneth called, but he shook his head regretfully. He was staying to fight too.
Wyneth reluctantly turned with moistened eyes, and the four of them ran up the hill, grasping their skirts.
When they got to the copse of trees at the top of the hill, they stopped to catch their breath in the canopy of darkness.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Rathbrook?” Aerity asked. The woman was bent, hands on her knees, taking in ragged mouthfuls of air.
“Aye . . . dear . . . don’t worry about me. Leave me . . . if you must.”
Before Aerity could respond, a shadow stepped out from behind a tree.
“Still a slave to the monarch, Lashed One? Pity.”
Aerity’s skin prickled with heat at that voice. Vixie and Wyneth stepped back. Mrs. Rathbrook stood up, eyes narrowing as Rozaria Rocato materialized, smiling.
Vixie pulled out her bow and quickly nocked an arrow. “Not another step.”
Rozaria stopped, sizing up Vixie. “Ah, you again? Still trying to prove yourself?”
Vixie minutely shifted her stance, tensing.
“She has nothing to prove,” Aerity said. “She has my full permission to kill you right now.”
“I think we both know she doesn’t have it in her.”
“I just killed one of your soldiers!” Vixie’s voice trembled, despite her confident stance.
“Were you looking him in the eye, as you do now with me?” Rozaria spoke softly.
Vixie didn’t answer, asking instead, “Where’s your friend? The one who hides and sneaks?”
Rozaria appeared amused by her tone. Aerity remembered now that there was a girl, always watching over Rozaria, often in hiding. Her eyes darted around at the trees and shadows. Wyneth turned to look behind them and her eyes grew. “Harrison!”
He crested the hill, looking worse for wear with his uniform torn, dirtied, and bloodied, but he was upright and not at all as winded as they’d been. He stopped and surveyed the scene. Aerity noticed he had no sword. He must have been disarmed in battle and ran to see them off after all. She could scarcely make out his face in the dark distance.
She wondered if he was thinking what she was: that the smart thing to do would be to order Vixie to kill Rozaria now. But Aerity didn’t want to force her sister. She’d been shaken after killing the man from afar. Aerity would do it herself, and she knew Harrison would as well, but in the time it would take to get the bow from Vix, Rozaria could have her hands on one of them, or run and escape. She had to trust that Vixie wouldn’t let Rozaria get away again.
“Keep the arrow aimed at her at all times,” Harrison said. “Everyone else stay clear of her.” Now he focused on Rozaria. “You’re under arrest for conspiracy against Lochlanach. You’re a prisoner of war—”
A burst of mad laughter issued from Rozaria. She laughed until a savage roar rang out, causing her to abruptly shut her mouth and peer down the hill. Aerity caught something glinting from beside a nearby tree, then the glint moved.
“Watch out!” she yelled, and the object flew straight toward Vixie. In a blur, Furball threw himself in the path of the dagger, letting out a raging snarl as the weapon pricked underneath his front leg.
Vixie released her arrow and hit the Lashed girl beneath her collarbone. The girl stumbled out and fell beside Rozaria, the arrow protruding.
“Nicola!” Rozaria moved to block the girl from the rest of them.
“That was my only arrow,” Vixie whispered in a panic.
“I will heal you, Nicola,” Rozaria murmured down at the writhing girl. “Be still for a moment while I finish them.”
Furball growled. Rozaria lifted her gaze and stared at the creature in wonder.
“He’s one of mine, isn’t he?”
“Not anymore,” Harrison told her.
“We’ll see about that.” Rozaria snapped her fingers with authority and clicked her tongue at the beast. Furball gave a pathetic whimper and went back on its haunches, as if afraid or confused.
“This . . .” Rozaria pointed at the creature. “This is that useless cub!” She laughed again. “How did you obtain him?” Then she stared at Aerity in a new way. “You . . . that was you at my camp. And Paxton . . . he knew all along.” Aerity felt a clench of fear until remembering it made no difference now. Rozaria laughed darkly, sounding maniacal. “It matters not. You will both suffer tenfold.”
She began to squat beside Nicola, careful not to turn her back to them.
“Don’t touch her,” Miss Rathbrook said, stepping forward. “She tried to kill the princess. You will not heal her.”
“How dare you command me,” Rozaria spat. “You are the worst kind of Lashed, a traitor of magical blood!”
The royal healer continued to move forward.
“Mrs. Rathbrook,” Aerity warned.
“Move away,” Mrs. Rathbrook demanded.
“I will not,” Rozaria fired back.
As the women eyed each other, Furball snarled, and Harrison bent to pick up the dagger Nicola had thrown.
Mrs. Rathbrook moved closer yet, causing Rozaria to rise, facing her, but still not within reach. Wyneth took a step forward on Rozaria’s other side, and pointed to Harrison.
“Move away, Rozaria, or you will have a dagger in your heart.”
Wyn was standing too close. Aerity was about to tell her to move when Rozaria charged toward Wyneth, her hands outstretched. Shouts and screams split the air. In a flash, Furball was there, bumping Wyneth out of the way. He let loose his most vicious roar yet, towering over Rozaria, who was suddenly immobilized by shock. Mrs. Rathbrook took the opportunity to fall to her knees beside Nicola’s feet and grasp her ankle. Nicola, in a burst of renewed energy, sat up and grasped Mrs. Rathbrook’s arm. Her hood fell back, her scar shining in the moonlight, eyes gleaming with passion. Aerity screamed. At the same time, both Mrs. Rathbrook and Nicola crumpled forward.
“No!” Rozaria shrieked.
“Mrs. Rathbrook . . . ?” Vixie whimpered. Neither of them moved or breathed.
Furball growled when Rozaria stepped closer, and she turned on him. “Enough! I created you, stupid creature, and I will kill you as I should have months ago!” She dived for the beast, but before she could lay her hands on him, Furball sliced a paw through the air. His massive claws slashed her abdomen. Rozaria looked down as blood began to pour from the gashes through her dress, and she rocked back on her heels. Her eyes lifted to her creation as if searching for answers to an unfathomable mystery.
And then Rozaria Rocato fell.
Paxton heaved Prince Vito’s body across the back of a Kalorian horse who’d lost its rider, and began leading it toward the clearing at the edge of town where fighting could be heard. He was shocked to see hundreds of soldiers, and a mass of Kalorian carnage. Most standing appeared to be Ascomannian and Lochlan. The Kalorians who weren’t dead were being subdued, pushed to the ground as prisoners, though some seemed to prefer fighting to the death.
His eyes rose up the hill at the sound of Furball’s brutal roaring. Were the girls up there?
“Oy there, Pax!”
He looked over to find Lief jogging toward him. The coldlands man, splattered with blood, looked at Prince Vito’s body and stopped short, his surprised gaze going back to Paxton. Leif raised his eyebrows in question.
“Aye, it’s him,” Paxton said. “Dead.”
“You killed him?”
Paxton nodded. A grin split Lief’s face, and he grasped Paxton by the shoulder, laughing heartily and giving him a good shake.
“Well done!”
Paxton handed the reins to Lief and left him standing there as he headed up the hill to find Aerity. As he got closer he saw people standing, as well as bodies lying.
Nervousness twisted his insides as he ran the rest of the way.
“Pax!” The sound of Aerity’s beautiful voice filled him with immeasurable joy.
She ran to him, and they collided in an embrace. Coconut and berries filled his senses and he held her tighter, thanking the seas.
“Come,” she whispered. She took his hand and led him the rest of the way up the hill, where Wyneth and Harrison stood. Aerity’s eyes lowered to the bodies, filled with dark pity.
He peered down at Vixie leaning over a very still Mrs. Rathbrook.
“Is she gone?” he asked. Vixie looked up and nodded, sniffing. His heart gave a tight squeeze.
Beside them was Nicola, who also appeared dead. Then, to his complete shock, his eyes landed on Rozaria, whose bloodied hands were splayed across her abdomen, a tremor ratcheting through her. She slowly reached a hand up to Paxton, her eyes beseeching him to heal her. His stomach knotted with the same pity he’d seen in Aerity’s eyes. He knew he shouldn’t feel bad for this woman who’d caused so many others to suffer, but he did. And he knew what he had to do.
Paxton looked at Harrison. “Hold down her wrists. Don’t let her fingers touch you.”
Harrison, though he didn’t seem thrilled, nodded and bent at Rozaria’s side while Paxton moved to her head. The others watched in silence. Paxton lifted Rozaria’s head to his lap and when she whimpered he said, “Sh. It’s almost over.” He held her face in his hands, and concentrated. Inside, her body was a jumbled mess, just as Tiern’s had been the night he’d healed him. Paxton’s energy searched for what he wanted, and then finally found it.
His magic seized her heart and surrounded it. He sent a simple thought to halt its beat. Rozaria’s eyes widened, and she struggled to suck in a last breath. Then she went still. Paxton exhaled and slid her eyelids closed with his fingers.
“You will never hurt again,” he said softly. Relief washed cleanly through his body. He looked up at Aerity, who covered her mouth and closed her eyes, nodding.
A raucous cheer rose up from the bottom of the hill. He knew it meant all the Kalorians had been either captured or killed.
“It’s over,” Harrison said. “We’ve won this battle. Let’s hope we can take the castle and Prince Vito.”
“He’s dead.” Paxton stood and faced them.
“You’re certain?” Aerity asked as if afraid to hope.
“I killed him myself.”
Aerity watched him a moment longer and then flew into his arms, hugging him while her cousin and sister cheered. Paxton kissed the top of her head and held her close.
“Did you find out about Donnie?” she whispered to him.
“Nay,” he regretted to say. “But we will find him.”
Aerity’s arms tightened around him. She was safe for now. He’d done his job. He’d killed for her. For his land. And he would do whatever he had to do to find her brother. He didn’t want to think about what would come after that. He didn’t want to think of letting her go again. For now, he held her close.