Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,28
mined glass to Reyna’s father. The moment he had laid eyes on her, he’d wanted her to become his bride.
Frowning, Reyna realized that she had never met her mother’s aunts or uncles. Could there be something there, in the bloodline? And if so, why had no one realized it until now?
Because it was ridiculous.
A branch slapped Reyna’s bare arm just as voices rose up ahead. She slowed and ducked behind the thick trunk of a towering yew tree. With one knee braced on the ground, she inched her head past the bark.
The war camp stretched out before her. The edge of the forest cut off not far from where she hid. In its place, soot coated the ground, both from the fire in Oxgrove and from the Ruin’s onslaught against the Shadow Court’s camp.
Every tree was gone for miles. Reyna swallowed hard.
Before the forest vanished, a few dozen tents took shelter beneath the canopy of trees, just as Rhain had mentioned. Their fabric was a deep green that melted in with the surroundings, the Wood Court’s crossed arrow sigil embroidered in gold. Past them, the tents were so numerous that it made Reyna’s head spin. There were thousands. The Shadow Court did not have the numbers to fight this many wood fae.
A new resolve hardened in her gut. If she did not manage to kill the king before he decided to invade, Findius would fall. And so would Lorcan. Only Thane could offer any hope, and he would not be done with his battles just yet.
Reyna took one last stock of the nearby tents, and then settled in for a long wait behind the tree. Night would soon come, and with it, shadows. The wood fae would never see her coming.
The midnight glow of the twin moons beamed down on the war camp scattered across the charred remains of the Forest of Thorns. But it did not pierce the canopy of trees that had survived. Reyna pushed up into a crouch, her heart rattling in her chest.
Most of the wood fae had taken to bed several hours before while a small number took off through the trees to patrol the perimeter of the camp. There were only a few of them. The wood fae did not expect an attack from behind, not while every one of their eyes was aimed on the looming wall in front of them.
She pressed her back against the tree and stood, her ears flicking toward the crunch of footsteps. Her eyes scanned the trees, and a form solidified in the darkness. The figure was slight and tall, and a bow hung from her hand. It was impossible to tell anything more than that.
Reyna waited, frozen into ice. The wood fae drew closer, shoulders relaxed, arms loose by her sides. As she stepped within arm’s reach, Reyna loomed out of the darkness. Her blade flashed in the night, cutting straight toward the fae’s neck.
It was over in an instant. The wood fae did not even have a chance to cry out. Reyna held the fae’s body close to hers and gently lowered her to the ground, careful to staunch the blood flow with a cloth, so that it would not stain her much-needed wood fae armor. Guilt pounded against her skull.
You terrible, wicked, cruel thing, the Ruin taunted.
“This is war,” she hissed.
You did not even give the poor lass a chance to fight you. You stabbed her in the neck in the dark.
“It was the only way,” Reyna mumbled, slowly unbuttoning the fae’s leather boots, dyed green to match the rest of her armor. “It’s what I have to do to save Lorcan.”
Have you ever wondered if your blinding desire to save your lover is what will lead you to the world’s end? Maybe that is the thing that breaks you. You will rip apart the world just to get to him.
She squeezed her eyes tight, a horrible, vicious scream building in her throat. It had been weeks of this, enduring the Ruin’s taunts. His whispered wonderings. His reminders that there was something horrible and twisted about her.
That her actions would only ever lead to one thing: the death of everyone she loved.
Back curved, she sucked a deep breath in through her nose, and the iron tang of blood filled her head. She forced the Ruin out of her mind. It was the only way to deal with it. Just pretend it wasn’t there. Ignore it long enough, and maybe it would go away.