stop Iker and my father.” His expression was so bleak. He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “Was it all for nothing?”
“No, not for nothing.” I hesitantly stepped toward him. He’d been so full of hope this morning when I’d returned to the palace, when we’d gone to visit Jax and seen for ourselves that Lisbet had healed him from the wounds and illness he’d suffered in the jungle. But then General Ferraun had shown up, demanding an audience with him immediately — alone. Damian had reluctantly left me, with a promise that he would send for me the moment he was done.
Once I’d reassured myself that Jax was truly well, Lisbet had sent me back to my room, forcing me to rest. She’d come with me, removing the stitches Tanoori had given me to heal my back. I’d been shocked to fall asleep as soon as she left, but horrible nightmares had plagued me, until I’d bolted up in bed, yanked from sleep by a knock on my door. Damian was in his library and wished to see me.
When I’d entered the room, it was to find a different man from the one who’d run to meet me outside the palace walls in the pale light of dawn. He’d turned to me, and the expression on his face had sent a shiver down my spine. Gone was the hope I’d seen this morning, replaced by something darker, wilder.
They attacked again, he’d told me. General Ferraun just received word. Another village completely destroyed — everyone killed except for one woman, half-crazed with grief, sent to bring word of the massacre. If I don’t start fighting back, they are going to kill us all and leave me the king of a graveyard. They are leaving me no choice. And thanks to my father, we have no sorcerers to defend ourselves, except for me and Eljin — if he’ll even fight against his own people. No matter what I do, my people will die.
And then he’d begun to pace, while I stood near his desk, watching. Aching to help him, to comfort him, to prevent this war from happening, and not knowing how.
As I slowly neared Damian, he watched me, silent. Finally, I stopped in front of him, tipping my head back to look up at him. I reached up to cup his jaw, and he closed his eyes, turning to press a kiss into the palm of my hand. “It wasn’t for nothing,” I repeated. “And we can’t give up now. Bring your people here. Send out notices for the villages and towns to evacuate, to bring all the food and supplies they have and come to Tubatse, to the palace. Gather every weapon left in Antion and make your enemies come to you, rather than roaming freely through the jungle, murdering your people in their homes.”
“And give them one big target to destroy?” Damian’s eyes were bleak. “General Ferraun and I have discussed every option we can think of. People are already panicking and flocking to Tubatse. There isn’t enough space to house them all, or food to feed them. Families are living on the streets, too terrified to go back to their homes, fearing that their villages will be next.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but our army is depleted,” I argued. “We don’t have enough men to send patrols through the jungle. If we bring as many people here as we can, at least we can set up a perimeter. We will have a chance to fight.”
“And we will all die.” Damian turned to look away, out the window. Probably trying to hide the hopelessness from me, but I saw it. I saw the defeat in his eyes.
“Stop it. Right now.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. “You can’t give up. If you do, you’re right, we will all die.”
He continued to stare out the window.
“Damian.” My voice was sharp, and he finally looked back at me. “We’ve beaten insurmountable odds before. Do you remember what you told me this morning? Together, we can do anything, right?”
He nodded, a muscle tightening in his jaw.
“We won’t let Antion die. I promise.”
Damian’s eyes roamed over my face with such a desperate need lurking in their depths that it sent a responding surge of emotion through my belly and down into my legs. This was the one thing I could do — I could love him. I could hold him and tell him everything was going to be