stop him!” she shouted.
The gold guard, however, stepped back, his expression dark and sullen. Corbin was quick to realize what had just happened. He shot to his feet. “Seize him!” he snarled.
Acheron didn’t move, his eyes wide as Zoltan’s face turned white and black veins spread over his cheeks and temples. In less than a minute, he was dead and his insides had liquefied—an extreme manifestation of the Black Fever and the Darklings’ preferred suicide method.
Those in attendance screamed in horror, but the gold guards were quick to hold them back and secure the exits. Two soldiers seized the guard who’d forced Zoltan to stand up, as he was clearly the one who’d slipped him the capsule.
Corbin reached him in seconds, his face red with anger. “What the hell did you do?!”
“Commander, he’s not part of our platoon,” one of the soldiers said.
The second agreed. “He’s not a gold guard!”
“So, he snuck in? He snagged some gold armor and strutted around like he was one of you?!” Acheron shouted, his rage boiling over, much like Corbin. “This is unacceptable!”
“Well, he’s dead,” Danika replied dryly from her seat. “Consider the affair closed and arrest the fraud, since he’s clearly a Darkling.”
“He chose to die before his punishment!” Acheron spat, scowling at his wife. “He basically flipped us and the empire off as his last hurrah. It’s unconscionable!”
“Take him to prison,” Corbin ordered his soldiers. “I’ll deal with him later.”
Valaine was stunned, not that I could blame her. “What just happened?” she murmured.
“Zoltan killed himself before they could kill him,” Tristan replied, equally baffled.
I wanted to react, somehow, but there wasn’t much I could do other than stare. But then Thayen’s nanny stood up just as Acheron moved around the judges’ table and descended the platform. Something felt wrong.
“Acheron, watch out!” I heard myself shout.
The Nalorean nanny produced a scythe from between the folds of her dress and cut Acheron’s head off. Danika’s scream pierced my ears. It broke my heart in an instant—I was suddenly lost and out of breath, with no control over what had just happened.
Acheron’s head hit the floor. The courtroom exploded in wails and gasps and terrified screams. Gold guards rushed to their Lord Supreme, but it was too late.
“Oh, no…” Sofia cried out, tears welling in her eyes.
Valaine lost control. She bolted from her seat, dashing like a shadow across the marble floor. She stopped in front of the Nalorean nanny, roaring as she ripped her head off. Blood sprayed outward as the gold guards tried to pull her back. Another soldier rushed to cover Thayen’s eyes in an attempt to shield the boy from years of soul-crushing therapy. He’d already seen too much.
The woman’s body collapsed, her head still in Valaine’s bloodied hands.
Thayen was speechless and blank, unable to process or react, partially hidden behind the soldier, shrinking in his embrace. Danika nearly tumbled down the stairs, sliding on her knees to reach her husband’s body. Tears streamed down her cheeks, horror forever marring her beautiful features. With trembling hands, she touched Acheron’s chest as if hoping she might find a sign of life.
There was no point. Acheron was dead, and so was his killer.
The Darklings’ reach was wider and more dangerous than we’d thought. They’d been close to the Lord and Lady Supreme for so long, ready to act if they got too involved or presented a threat to the Darkling agenda.
Valaine stood over the nanny’s lifeless body, the severed head dangling from one hand. The gold guards were breathless and wide-eyed, not sure what to do next. Corbin remained frozen on the spot, standing between Zoltan’s cage and Acheron’s head.
And all around us, grief swelled and flared outward.
It was unstoppable.
Nethissis
We were in Laramis, and it didn’t look like a Darkling hideout at all. It was an idyllic town in the midlands, flanked by lush woods to the north and grain fields to the south. The houses were pretty, with white walls and brick-tile roofs. Flowers adorned every window and wrought-iron streetlamps cast light on every road. It was peaceful and quiet, with splendid views and nice people.
And yet it was home to an alarming number of Darklings. They blended in, wearing the same clothes and smiles as everyone else. I stayed close to Petra and her group, much to Seeley’s chagrin. Sidyan held him back, while Lumi motioned for me to return to them every chance she got. But they kept their distance, nonetheless. They couldn’t risk it.
At least I had my weird