army will go with ours. Have them prepared to move in should one of ours fall. Dristan, I need to know that the tower is locked down and that Eliran is within it. The wards are all up, which means no sifting, so please, move.”
I peered out over the army slipping into our gates to where the mages smugly carried the flags of the Dark Kingdom, the Light Kingdom, and last but not least, my father’s banner, the Blood Kingdom.
Insolent pricks had no shame or respect for the dead. Anger slithered through me as my eyes slid through their ranks, hating that they’d taken the banners from the fallen kingdoms.
“That’s not good,” Adam said. “They’re flying my fucking flag.”
“They’re flying all the high fae flags, all except for the horde,” I stated, turning to look at the anger and pain that covered Adam’s face. “They’re coming to take our kingdom. Let’s disappoint them, shall we, gentlemen?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The entire stronghold held its breath as I stood in front of the castle in full armor. I was prepared to defend my home against the vile mages that had been stupid enough to march upon our lands, intending to bring it to its knees. Lena stood shoulder to shoulder with me, while Ciara, Icelyn, Lilith, and Fyra flanked us on either side.
The entire front line of troops was comprised of women warriors. The men stood behind, fully aware that the mage army outnumbered us, and we were in trouble. We’d been wrong to assume the mages would send the bulk of their troops to the valley. It didn’t help to worry about it now, considering we were staring them down across the field.
I’d placed Sevrin in the castle with Dristan, ensuring that Eliran was inside the tower with Olivia and the children. I’d secured the castle, reinforcing the wards before I set even one foot outside of the stronghold. I hadn’t forced the women to come with me, nor had I refused their help.
We made a plan before coming beyond the gates, one to hold the fight at this position. This was the line their army wouldn’t cross unless we fell, and we had no plan of that happening.
I’d been sure to remind everyone that these beings weren’t weak. They’d brought the Blood Kingdom, the Light Kingdom, and the Dark Kingdom to their knees, and murdered the most powerful fae in their own homes, where they were at their strongest.
“At the back, you see it?” Ciara asked through her dragon armor, covered in scales of red and black like the armor Blane donned when he’d left here.
I stared across the field where two large ballistae were being armed with giant arrows that could easily pierce a dragon in flight. There were also other contraptions spraying iron into the air that was already beginning to affect the surrounding fae but only slightly at the moment. Giants had been captured and were being used to haul medieval machinery back and forth to where the mages wanted them placed.
“That explains a lot,” Fyra muttered crossly. “Those arrows will cause an issue with our plans.”
“Icelyn, are you healed enough to do what you need to do?” I asked, slightly turning to take in the anger in her icy depths.
Anger was good.
Anger was strength.
Fear was power against the enemies because fear made you fight harder to shove it away.
“I am. I can fight. I wouldn’t be out here if I wasn’t sure I could help.” Her hands were encased in ice, prepared to send it sailing toward the mages at a moment’s notice.
“Lilith?” I turned to where she stood within the shadows that clung to her as if she was one with them.
“I’m ready.”
“Ciara, are you certain you want to be out here and not inside where you are protected?”
“Synthia, I’m not weak. I am right where I am supposed to be. My children are with my brothers high in the tower, safeguarded by your