and sharp and ready—flashed from the thin holes. The guards must have assembled the moment Haven cast off her cloak. Adrenaline flooded Haven in a surge of prickly fire, her senses coming alive as she waited for the telltale scream of bolts slicing through the air.
Her power greedily rubbed against its cage of flesh and bone as it prepared to annihilate everything in its path.
If this queen thought they would go down without a fight, she was dangerously mistaken.
Stolas didn’t look at the bolts.
He didn’t cast a single glance at Archeron.
But he did grin, and it was a wicked, beautiful thing indeed. “We have so much in common, you and I. Currently, my sister, the Seraphian Empress, waits above you, ready to unleash her absolute rage on this melting cauldron of a kingdom. She would love nothing more than to start with you, Queen.” He examined his fingernails. “She fancies heads as trophies, and yours would be the jewel of her collection—if it wasn’t too badly damaged, of course. I have my doubts.”
A muscle ticked in the queen’s jaw. “I had heard there was a Seraphian girl claiming to be the last female heir—”
“I can assure you that she is not only my sister, but a Noctis every bit as powerful as my mother once was. Her temperament, on the other hand, is far more . . . mercurial, but no ruler is perfect—except you, of course.” He fell into another bow, but this time his eyes never left hers.
Only Stolas could manage to both threaten and seduce the Morgani Queen in one breath.
The queen’s lips parted to respond, but then . . . hesitated.
Archeron looked to the queen, aghast. “Surely you know every word this Noctis spews is a lie? He’s a serial trickster and manipulator. For all we know, that girl above is a Seraphian slave he’s parading as his sister in order to hold the Seraphian throne. If—”
His words cut off as a long, serpentine shadow slid over the stadium and coasted across the sand. The seagulls squawked in alarm as they fled. Muffled cries of terror followed.
The queen managed to remain calm as that huge shadow darkened her shaded box, but her focus darted to the sky. And when she took in Nasira’s familiar, the magnificent beast with glossy scales the color of onyx and midnight wings that nearly blotted out the sun, a tiny tremor rippled across her composed visage.
Lips tilted upward, Stolas cut his silver eyes at Archeron, and the look between the two males chilled her blood. “Please, Sun Lord,” Stolas drawled, “explain how a servant would possess a Shadow Dragon when that particular familiar has belonged to the royal Darkshade lineage for longer than you’ve existed.”
Every eye was drawn to Nasira’s dragon as it glided across the clear azure sky like strokes of charcoal against canvas. Even Haven had trouble looking away.
That was the creature Nasira had hidden from Haven in Penryth. She could only imagine the fear and chaos Nasira would wreak when the dragon reached full size.
“You could have forced the poor girl to share your bed,” Archeron growled. His nostrils were flared, the vein above his temple engorged. “Everyone knows a Seraphian female’s familiar can take on their lover’s form.”
Haven blinked; she was apparently the one person who didn’t know that.
Stolas’s voice was soft, lethal as he said, “My Shadow Familiar was cast years ago, and it is the same as my mother’s.”
“And we are just supposed to take your word for it?”
Stolas shrugged, but Haven caught the violence in that small act. “Or I could prove it.”
By the way the queen’s throat dipped, his mother’s Shadow Wolf must have been formidable. Still, Haven knew the queen would never capitulate to the promise of violence. If anything, the more Stolas and Haven publicly threatened her, the more she had to fight.
Haven craned her neck to the top of the coliseum where a female clad in silver and gold armor perched. Valkyrie.
The name filled Haven with awe and a twinge of fear.
More Valkyries silhouetted against the sky, waiting like gargoyles for the horn to give them wings. If Haven didn’t do something, this would turn into a bloodbath.
Haven looked to the queen. “I must be mistaken. I was told you offered your protection to everyone? That I would be safe during this hallowed festival to honor my mother’s sister?” Her gaze lingered on Archeron. “Or do your rules not apply when male kings decide they’re inconvenient?”