seen him just like this? Filthy after some battle, hair messy and pushed to the side, sleeves rolled up. Even his smile felt similar, that teasing arrogance on full display.
But it was only half a smile. The other side was covered behind the mask she’d quickly learned to despise. To fear, even. Flames danced across its sleek surface, making the jewels glitter and flash.
Embers rose between them like fireflies.
“Haven.” His voice was unusually soft as he held out his hand. “Haven, come to me. I can protect you.”
She shook her head, her words catching around the lump in her throat. His voice was too familiar. His smile too like the old Archeron.
Stolas—she needed to find Stolas.
“Look around you. You don’t stand a chance.” Against her will, she obeyed. Her pulse spiked as she took in the Gremwyrs swarming down the walls, a wave of death. Golemites hovered in the sky above, their wings too susceptible to fire to descend.
The moment the last of the fire burned out they would join their Shadowling brethren to finish the remaining Solis off.
There was no doubt in Haven’s mind that Morgryth would take Haven alive to her father—after torturing her first, obviously. And the things her father would do would make the Shade Queen’s torture seem pleasant.
“Come to me now,” Archeron continued in that deceptively gentle tone, “and I promise my men will protect them. You have my word. I will be gentle with you, Haven. As long as you bend to my will, you have nothing to fear.”
Her gaze darted to the rubble where Stolas had been, desperation clawing her chest.
“Haven, please. Am I really that loathsome that you would prefer to be taken by the Shadeling than me?”
The vulnerability in his voice startled her. He wanted her to come willingly to him. Needed her to for some inexplicable reason.
She met his pleading stare. His hand still outstretched, fingers curling as he beckoned. Bits of ash had caught in his hair and collar. The side of his mouth that she could see lifted hopefully, his emerald green eye bright with expectation.
With . . . longing.
She glanced back at Surai and Ember. Both women were injured. They wouldn’t last long against the approaching onslaught. But they would never give up. And if they were given the option to give Haven to Archeron and survive or fight and die, she knew which option they would choose.
Her focus flitted back to Archeron. To his outstretched hand and false offer of safety. But it was an illusion, and he was just as bad as the Shadeling.
Maybe worse.
At least the Shadeling knew what he was. Archeron still thought himself righteous and good. Could still somehow justify his abominable actions.
She met his gaze and snarled, “I would rather die than willingly give myself to you.”
The light inside his one good eye flickered and then guttered out. The flash of pain and surprise in his face slowly transformed into a malice so dark it nearly buckled her knees. “On second thought, why don’t I sit back and wait until Morgryth and her ilk have showered you in the blood of your friends? Maybe then when I slip my leash around your neck you’ll be grateful.”
“You would risk war with the Morgani Queen just to have me?”
His focus drifted to where the Morgani fought behind her. “How can I start a war with someone who’s dead?”
Snarls drew both their attention to the corner where—
Oh, Goddess. Stolas.
Horror coiled in her gut at the sight of him. Bloodied. Feathers singed and charred, a few smoldering and spewing smoke. His tunic hung in tatters over his body, revealing terrible wounds and blood—so much blood.
His? Others? Her mind whirled as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Figures dashed around him, their quick movements hard to pin down.
Five, no six, no countless Golemites and Gremwyrs had descended on him and were tearing at him with teeth and weapons and claws.
He fought back with the strength of a God. Tossing Gremwyrs aside like they weighed nothing. Ripping limbs and wings from his enemies. Slashing his sword in impossibly fast, measured strokes.
Why wasn’t he using his magick?
And then it hit her. He hadn’t fed before they came, and then with the shield and battle . . . his vast powers were depleted.
He’d used the very last of it to shield her.
A Gremwyr dove from high above, catching Stolas in the upper back with its talons. The pain in his gritted jaw as he held