The king took a deliberate step towards Erin, relishing the despair that clung to her like a shroud.

  Rage surged through me, momentarily eclipsing the churning pit of disgust. But before I could react, a small figure darted between the king and Erin.

  Finn, his usual bravado replaced by a mask of raw courage, stood his ground, hands bound behind his back, his voice trembling slightly but resolute. "Leave her alone!" he bellowed, his voice cracking at the edges.

  My heart clenched. Despite his brave facade, terror flickered in his wide eyes. He was a wisp of a boy, barely a man, facing down a monster.

  The king let out a harsh scoff, the sound echoing through the chamber. He towered over Finn, his skeletal frame casting a grotesque shadow that swallowed the boy whole.

  "And who," he rasped, his voice dripping with disdain, "might you be?"

  Finn held his ground for a defiant moment, then the king's cruel amusement morphed into something far more menacing.

  With a flick of his wrist, the king sent Finn flying. He crumpled to the ground with a strangled cry, landing in a heap at the feet of Isaac and Elyse, his bravado shattered.

  A choked sob escaped Elyse's lips, and Isaac knelt to reach out a hand, offering silent comfort. Every muscle in my body screamed at me to charge, to rip the king to shreds. But a sliver of reason held me back.

  I knew a reckless lunge would be met with swift and brutal death. I wouldn't be saving anyone, just adding another name to the growing list of losses. My hands clenched into fists, the leather of my gloves digging into my palms.

  Hate, raw and primal, surged through me, threatening to consume me entirely. But I gritted my teeth, forcing it down. There would be a time for vengeance, but not now. Not here.

  We were hopelessly outnumbered, outmatched. Erin, usually the voice of reason, now completely unresponsive.

  A glance at Caleb offered no answers. Was he a pawn like the king’s men, or a traitor playing a deeper game? The revelation still stung, a fresh betrayal layered on top of our dire situation. I couldn't afford the luxury of doubt right now.

  My gaze darted around the room, searching for an escape route, a weakness, anything. The tapestries loomed large on the walls, their heavy fabric swaying faintly as if mocking my helplessness. But the mirrors… The mirrors caught my attention again, their surfaces gleaming with an unsettling brilliance.

  Each mirror reflected not just us but the guards, the king, the vast expanse of the chamber. In the glass, our fear, our despair, seemed magnified, stretched into grotesque caricatures. I could see the king’s smirk, warped and cruel, a thousand times over.

  "What do you want?" I spat, my voice tight with controlled rage.

  The king's lips curled into a cruel smile. "I want your loyalty," he hissed. "I want you to bow down before me and swear allegiance to my throne."

  I felt a surge of defiance rising within me. Never would I betray my friends, never would I bow to this tyrant. "You're delusional," I snarled.

  The king's voice, dripping with false generosity, slithered through the room.

  "Perhaps there is a way," he rasped, his gaze flickering between me and the rest of the group. "Join me. Become my loyal servants. Prove yourselves useful, and I might just consider… clemency."

  The word tasted like ash in my mouth. Clemency? From a tyrant who reveled in our suffering? Never.

  "We would rather die than serve a monster like you," I spat, the words a rebellious echo in the suffocating silence.

  The king’s lips curved into a thin smile as his hand gestured lazily toward the doors. "Ah, but perhaps a familiar face will… clarify things."

  With a deep, echoing creak, the heavy oak doors swung open. My breath hitched as the shadow of a man stepped through, flanked by two guards.

  It was him.

  My brother.

  "Kilian!" The name ripped from my throat before I could stop it, raw and frantic.

  He tried to meet my gaze, his movements restricted by the ropes biting into his wrists. His legs were shackled, the chains clinking with every reluctant step forward. A gag silenced his mouth, but his eyes spoke volumes—fear, regret, and a deep, heartbreaking sorrow.

  My heart twisted painfully, a cacophony of emotions warring inside me. Relief that he was alive. Rage that he was here, a pawn in the king’s cruel game. And beneath it all, a simmering guilt that screamed this was my fault.

  Before I could move, another figure strode into the room behind him. The sight of him sent a jolt of ice-cold dread through my veins.

  Tall, broad-shouldered, and impossibly poised, Kael Voryn entered with a smug air of authority. His dark armor glinted in the flickering torchlight, the same black steel that haunted my nightmares. His dark hair was slicked back, framing a face that would have been striking were it not for the cruel twist of his lips and the glint of malice in his eyes.

  Voryn stepped closer, his boots clicking ominously on the cold stone floor. His predatory gaze locked on Erin first, his tone dripping with mockery.

  "Well, well," he said, his voice cold and cutting. "The best fighter I know turned rebel scum. Erin, it’s almost poetic, isn’t it? You, of all people, preaching about freedom. I remember when you’d have slit throats for so much as a sideways glance at His Majesty."

  Erin’s jaw tightened, her fists clenched at her sides, but she said nothing. I could see the barely restrained fury simmering beneath her calm fa?ade.

  Erin—our Erin—used to be on the king’s side? I stared at her, my breath caught in my throat, searching her face for an explanation, for denial, for anything that could contradict what I had just heard. But Erin didn’t deny it. She didn’t even flinch. Her jaw was set, her eyes locked on Kael with a hatred so pure it felt like a physical force.

  Kael chuckled darkly, his attention shifting to Caleb. "And you, Caleb. The idealist. The dreamer." His tone turned mocking, his words a venomous hiss. "All that talk of justice and rebellion, and yet here you are, standing shoulder to shoulder with me. How does it feel, knowing the blood of every town I’ve burned is on your hands too?"

  Caleb’s face remained a mask of stoic defiance, but his knuckles whitened as he balled his fists. The tension in the air between them was palpable, and I could almost hear the unspoken words passing between them—old grudges, old betrayals.

  Kael leaned in slightly, his smirk widening. "You always thought you were better than me, didn’t you? Better than all of us. But look around you, Caleb. The only thing you ever accomplished was trading one master for another."

  The words hit like a hammer, and for a moment, Caleb’s calm wavered. His eyes flickered, just briefly, with something raw—regret, or perhaps doubt.

  Kael pounced on it immediately, his grin turning razor-sharp. "Izmennik," he said, the word dripping with disdain. He let the silence stretch, savoring the moment before continuing. "Do your little friends even know what that means? Do they know who you are? What you are?"

  I stiffened, the word sending a chill down my spine. It was the same word the Zilaran guard had used, and Caleb’s reaction then was the same as now—guarded, tense. I had asked what it meant once before and was met with a wall of silence. But Kael wasn’t about to let it go.

  "Tell them," Kael pressed, his voice now cruelly amused. "Or should I? Izmennik—traitor. Betrayer. First, your family. And now, them." He gestured vaguely toward me and the others, his words laced with poison. "You always were good at walking away from the messes you made, weren’t you, Caleb?"

  "Shut up," Caleb said quietly, his voice steady but cold.

  Kael ignored him, his words a relentless assault. "Do they know about the lives you traded for your own freedom? About the people you left behind to burn in Zilara? Or are you still spinning your little tales of rebellion and heroism?"

  "Shut. Up," Caleb repeated, louder this time, the sharp edge in his voice enough to make even me flinch.

  Kael stepped back slightly, mockingly raising his hands in surrender, though his grin never faltered. "Ah, there it is. The righteous anger. It’s always easier to be angry than to face the truth, isn’t it, Caleb?"

  The room seemed to freeze, the air heavy with tension. I looked at Caleb, but he didn’t meet my gaze. His fists were still clenched, his breathing slow and controlled, but I could see the cracks in his armor—the way his shoulders stiffened, the faint tremor in his hands.

  "Is it true?" I found myself whispering, the question slipping out before I could stop it. My voice sounded small, almost lost in the charged silence.

  Caleb didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his back to Kael, his movements deliberate, and started walking away. His silence was deafening.

  Kael’s laughter followed him, echoing in the stillness like a specter. "Run, Caleb. It’s what you’re best at."

  Erin’s voice was sharp and steady, cutting through the tension like a blade. "You’re one to talk, Kael. You were the king’s dog before we ever picked up a sword. And you still are."

  Kael’s grin twisted into something more dangerous. "Careful, Erin. I might take that as a compliment."

  Then, he turned toward me.

  He grinned, sharp and wolfish, as his piercing gaze settled on me. "Well, if it isn’t the little bookseller," he drawled, his voice a chilling combination of mockery and glee. "Imagine my surprise when I found out our quiet little bookworm had such a fiery streak. You’ve caused quite a mess, Kira."

  I bit back a retort, my bound hands clenching into fists as I glared at him. His amusement only deepened at my silence.

  "And how’s the family?" he asked, feigning innocence. "Oh, right. I suppose you wouldn’t know." His voice dropped, low and venomous. "Your father wasn’t very forthcoming when we paid him a visit. I had to get creative."

  The world tilted for a moment as his words sunk in. My father. He’d gone after my father. Rage exploded inside me, hot and uncontrollable.

  "You bastard!" I lunged forward without thinking, every muscle in my body screaming for vengeance. But before I could reach him, a guard grabbed the ropes around my wrists, yanking me back violently. The coarse twine bit into my skin, but the pain was drowned out by the white-hot fury that coursed through me.

  Voryn smirked, watching my struggle with unbridled amusement. "Ah, there it is. The fire I was waiting for." He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey. "Do you want to know what he said? Your father?" He leaned down, his voice a whisper meant only for me. "He begged. Said you were innocent. Said you didn’t know anything. Such a devoted man."

  Kael’s grin widened, a glint of savage pleasure lighting his eyes. “Though, to be fair, he didn’t beg until the very end. Oh no, not your father. He was stubborn, tight-lipped, silent as a grave. Quite admirable, really."

  He tilted his head, feigning thought. “Do you know how long it takes for a man to burn to ashes, Kira? Not long. Five minutes, maybe, if the fire’s hot enough. But alas…" His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. “It’s the smoke that gets them first. Strangles them. Fills their lungs. A cruel mercy, wouldn’t you agree?"

  My vision blurred, tears welling as his words slammed into me like hammer blows. I didn’t want to believe him—couldn’t believe him—but the dark delight in his voice, the relish with which he spoke, left no room for doubt.

  “He didn’t scream," Kael continued, his voice almost reverent. “Not until the flames really took hold. That was when he broke. When he called your name, over and over. Did you know that? You were his last thought, little bookseller. His last word."

  The world seemed to tilt, the air thickening until I couldn’t breathe. I choked on a sob, my rage and sorrow twisting into something sharp and unbearable. Kael straightened, watching my anguish with the satisfaction of an artist admiring their work.

  "Shut up!" I screamed, fighting against the guard’s grip. Tears blurred my vision as Voryn’s words pierced through my defenses like daggers. "You’re lying!"

  Voryn tilted his head, pretending to consider my accusation. "Am I? Or do you just wish I was?"

  The guard holding me twisted my arms, forcing me to my knees. My breath came in ragged gasps, my body trembling with rage and helplessness. Before I could say anything, his eyes flickered to my chest, narrowing slightly.

  “What’s this?" he murmured, stepping closer.

  I froze as his hand darted out, his fingers grazing the pendant hanging from the chain around my neck. My breath caught, a cold sweat breaking out along my spine. He held the silver flame between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting it with unsettling intensity.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  “Interesting," Kael mused, his voice dripping with mock curiosity. “A silver flame. Quite the symbol." He turned the pendant slightly, letting it dangle from its chain as he inspected it with exaggerated care. “A gift, I assume?"

  My throat tightened. I didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, the weight of his presence pressing down on me like a physical force. He smirked, his eyes glinting with a dangerous amusement as he turned his head toward Caleb.

  “Well, well," he drawled, his tone thick with mockery. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you, Caleb? Giving out trinkets like this. Let me guess…" He glanced back at me, his smirk widening. “A token of trust? Or maybe something more? How charming."

  Caleb’s expression hardened instantly, his jaw clenching as he took a single step forward. “Let her go, Kael."

  Kael’s grin only widened, his grip on the pendant tightening slightly. “Ah, so protective," he said, his voice low and mocking. “It’s almost sweet. Tell me, Kira, does he ever tell you the truth? Or just what he wants you to believe?"

  I jerked my head back, wrenching the necklace from his grasp. My skin burned where his fingers had grazed it, and I could feel my cheeks flushing with a mixture of fury and shame.

  Kael chuckled, clearly relishing my discomfort. He let his hand fall back to his side, his grin still firmly in place. “I’ll admit, Caleb, you’ve surprised me," he said, his voice lilting with mock admiration. “I didn’t think you had it in you to care about anyone other than yourself. But then again…" He leaned closer to me, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s always been good at using people."

  “Enough!" Caleb’s voice thundered through the room, the force of it snapping the tension like a whip. He stepped forward, his eyes blazing with fury, but Kael only chuckled again and stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender.

  “Touchy," Kael said lightly, his gaze flitting between us. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to sort this out. After all, we wouldn’t want any misunderstandings, would we?" He turned back to Caleb, his grin turning razor-sharp. “Not when you’re so good at breaking hearts."

  Voryn straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his armor, turning back towards me. “Be careful with this one, Kira. Flames burn the brightest right before they die out. You see, I knew you and your merry band of rebels were up to something. I just needed a little leverage. Poor old Daddy turned out to be quite… persuasive in the end."

  Voryn’s smirk widened, his piercing gaze locked on me. "You know, Kira," he began, his tone mockingly casual, "there’s something poetic about it, isn’t there? How well paper burns?"

  The words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs. My blood turned to ice as the meaning behind his words began to unravel in my mind. My stomach churned violently, dread clawing its way up my throat.

  Voryn tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Oh, didn’t you know?" he continued, his voice almost playful. "We were looking for you. Of course, your precious little bookshop was the first to go. A shame, really. All those books, all those secrets—reduced to ash. But, well, fire has a way of spreading, doesn’t it?"

  "No…" The word slipped from my lips, barely a whisper.

  His grin grew sharper, and he took a slow step closer. "Eldoria is… was a quaint little place. But when you’re chasing rats, sometimes you have to smoke them out."

  "No!" I screamed, lunging toward him again, but the guard holding me yanked me back, nearly wrenching my shoulder out of its socket. The ropes dug deeper into my wrists, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the inferno of rage and guilt consuming me.

  "You burned it," I choked out, my voice trembling. Tears blurred my vision as the weight of his words settled over me. "You burned everything."

  "For you," he said simply, his tone devoid of remorse. "We knew you were hiding something. And poor Eldoria paid the price."

  It was too much. The town—my home—was gone. All because of me. Because I hadn’t been careful enough. Because I’d stayed too long. Because I’d brought the rebellion to Eldoria’s doorstep.

  This was my fault.

  He gestured lazily to the ropes binding me, then toward Kilian, who was still shackled and gagged. "Quite the reunion, wouldn’t you say?"

  The guilt surged, overwhelming and suffocating. The faces of the townsfolk flashed in my mind—people I’d grown up with, people who’d trusted me. And now, because of me, their lives were in ruins. Or worse.

  "You’ll pay for this," I hissed, the fury barely containing the despair bubbling beneath it. "I swear, Voryn, you’ll pay."

  Voryn chuckled darkly, turning to glance at the king. "She’s spirited, I’ll give her that," he said, almost as if I weren’t there. "But the fire’s misplaced. She should’ve realized by now—this is her doing, not mine."

  The king, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice a dry whisper. "Indeed. The weight of guilt can be a powerful motivator. Let her feel it."

  Kael’s grin returned, sharp and predatory. "Oh, she feels it. Don’t you, Kira? You can see it now, can’t you? All the ashes left in your wake. You brought this upon them. Upon your family. Upon your brother."

  I shook my head, the words a desperate denial against the truth pressing down on me. But I couldn’t escape it. The weight of his words, the destruction of my home, the lives lost—it was all because of me. My rebellion. My choices.

  And Kael Voryn had made sure I’d never forget it.

  "You’re a monster," I spat, my voice trembling with fury.

  Voryn chuckled, a low, sinister sound. "I’ve been called worse." His gaze shifted to the king, who stood watching the exchange with a faint, amused smile. "Shall we get on with it, Your Majesty? Or do you want to let the girl tire herself out first?"

  The king raised a pale hand, his voice a dry whisper. "Enough games, Kael. We have what we need."

  Kael gave a mock bow, stepping back as the guards hauled me to my feet. My mind raced, the sight of Kilian’s bound and battered form fueling my desperation. I couldn’t let this end here. I couldn’t let them win.

  But as Voryn’s cold, triumphant gaze lingered on me, I couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in my chest. We were already in checkmate, and the cruel game had only just begun.

  "Kilian..." I whispered, barely able to form the word through the lump in my throat.

  The king watched the exchange with twisted amusement, his smirk widening. "How long will you keep up this defiance, Kira? Perhaps now you'll see reason."

  He was toying with me, using my brother as leverage in his abnormal game. But his cruelty only strengthened my resolve. I wouldn't let him break me. Wouldn't let him break any of us.

  My gaze darted between my brother, his eyes filled with a silent plea, and Caleb, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. Then, it swept across the room, taking in the broken forms of my comrades.

  They were counting on me. Especially my brother. He needed to see me strong, unbroken. This wasn't the time to crumble.

  With a deep, steadying breath, I lifted my chin, meeting the king's gaze with a defiance that burned brighter than any fire.

  "You can threaten us," I said, my voice steady, "you can torture us, you can even kill us. But you'll never break us. We fight for freedom, for a future where people like you don't hold power over innocent lives."

  The king's face, contorted with fury moments ago, stretched into a malevolent grin.

  "You're a fierce one, Kira," he rasped, his voice laced with a cruel amusement. "I admire that. So, here's a proposition."

  My stomach lurched, a sickening dread pooling in my gut. Propositions from tyrants rarely ended well.

  "A choice," he continued, his voice dripping with a mock friendliness. "Choose wisely, and I will let you all go."

  Caleb, standing rigidly beside me, shot me a quick, confused glance, his brow furrowing as he processed the king's words. His lips parted, as if he was about to protest, to say something—anything—against this vile game the king was playing. But his words died on his tongue. His hand tightened into a fist at his side, the tension in his jaw visible. He closed his mouth with a sharp exhale, his gaze flicking from the king to me, then back to Kilian, his expression hardening.

  But the true meaning of his offer was laid bare by the movement of the guard holding my brother. He shoved Kilian forward, positioning him beside Caleb, a cruel glint in his eyes as he pressed the sharp edge of his sword against my brother's throat.

  The world seemed to shrink, the air thickening with a suffocating tension. My gaze darted between my father, his face etched with a mixture of fear and stoic resolve, and Caleb, whose features were unreadable, though his eyes blazed with a fury he was trying to contain.

  The king's voice, a chilling whisper, slithered through the room. "Choose who you want to die," he said.

  The air itself seemed to crackle with menace. My breath hitched in my throat, a strangled gasp lost in the cavernous silence. The king drew his sword, the polished metal gleaming cruelly in the flickering torchlight. Its point, a sliver of death, hovered at my brother's throat first. "Your family," he rasped, the word dripping with a mockery of kindness.

  Then, with a flourish that made my stomach churn, he swung the blade towards Caleb. "Your lover," the king hissed, his voice sending shivers down my spine.

  Caleb's jaw tightened even further, his fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

  Love versus blood. The monstrous choice hung heavy in the air, a suffocating weight on my chest. Each heartbeat was a relentless drumbeat against the backdrop of my shattering world. No child, no one, should ever be forced to make such a decision. The world blurred at the edges, tears stinging my eyes, as I stared at the two most important men in my life, their fates resting on the precipice of my impossible choice.

  This wasn't a choice he could force upon me. There had to be another way.

  The king's perverted game, the monstrous weight of his choice, pressed down on me like a physical force. Even with the embers of betrayal glowing red in my heart, the idea of condemning Caleb to death was unthinkable. My gaze darted around the room, desperate for a solution, an escape route from this barbaric ultimatum.

  The king's words echoed in the chamber, each syllable a hammer blow to my already fractured heart. "Choose," he rasped, his voice dripping with a sadistic amusement that made me want to tear his throat out with my bare hands.

  Love or blood? The very concept was a grotesque caricature of mercy. I wasn't some lovesick fool, and my brother wasn't just some faceless relative. He was the boy who held me when I scraped my knee as a child, the one who taught me to read a book. But Caleb... oh, Caleb. His touch, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the warmth that radiated from him even in this frigid chamber. How could I possibly choose?

  Betrayal gnawed at the edges of my grief. Caleb's allegiance to the king had left a gaping wound. Yet, the sight of him now, trapped in this twisted game, sparked a flicker of protectiveness that rivaled my love for my brother He didn't deserve this, no matter his past actions.

  Panic clawed at my throat, a cold serpent coiling tighter with each passing second. My mind raced, searching for a loophole, a hidden escape hatch in the king's cruel game. This wasn't a choice – it was a trap.

  Think, Kira! An inner voice screamed, battling the rising tide of despair. There had to be something, anything, we could use to our advantage. The king strutted about like an invincible peacock, leaving his guards complacent, their weapons still sheathed.

  The air crackled with a tension so thick it felt like I could choke on it. My gaze darted between Caleb and my brother. A silent plea flickered in both their depths, a plea for me to find a way, any way, to save us all.

  A plan began to form in my mind. The guards had seized our weapons—though that was of little consequence. There was one person in this room who didn’t rely on weapons. She was a weapon herself, a living embodiment of destruction.

  Elyse.

  And the king underestimated her, as he did me.

  Taking a deep breath, I forced a tremor into my body and met the king's gaze. I needed him to see fear, not strength. Dropping to my knees, I let the rough marble scrape against them, the sting a small price for what I was about to achieve. My wrists, still bound, throbbed with a dull, persistent ache.

  Tears. I needed tears. My mind screamed at my body to cooperate, to conjure the fear that would make my act convincing. I squeezed my eyes shut, summoning every ounce of desperation within me. When I finally opened them, I let them shimmer with a well-practiced semblance of vulnerability. My voice, when it emerged, was a hoarse whisper, heavy with false sorrow. "Please," I croaked, my voice cracking.

  The king’s laughter echoed through the chamber, cold and cruel, a sound that made my skin crawl. He reveled in this moment, in my submission. The guards joined in, their jeering a grating chorus that scraped against my nerves. They saw a defeated little girl, a cornered animal begging for its life.

  Just as I intended.

  Beneath this carefully crafted facade, my mind was working furiously. I could feel the satisfaction curling at the edges of my thoughts.

  You fool, I thought with a dark thrill. I am going to eat you alive.

  I kept my gaze on the king, making sure every trace of defiance was hidden behind a mask of broken surrender. "Please, Your Majesty," I continued, my voice a desperate plea, "don’t do this. I’ll do anything you ask. Just spare them." Each word was designed to fuel his ego, to make him believe he held all the power.

  The king stepped closer, his dark eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction as he peered down at me. "Ah, how quickly the defiance crumbles," he purred. "Look at you now, Kira. The mighty rebel reduced to a sniveling child. How very predictable."

  Kael Voryn, standing a few feet behind him, crossed his arms over his chest, the smirk on his face widening. "It’s almost disappointing," he drawled. "I expected more of a fight. After all the trouble you’ve caused, I thought you’d at least make it interesting."

  The king tilted his head toward Voryn, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. "Our little rat is clever, but even clever rats know when they’ve been cornered."

  Voryn’s smirk grew sharper. "Clever, sure. But not clever enough to escape us." He stepped closer, his boots echoing ominously against the stone floor. His gaze dropped to me, his eyes glinting with a predatory amusement. "What’s the matter, Kira? Out of tricks?"

  I forced myself to shiver, shrinking under their combined gaze, playing the part of someone utterly defeated. "Please," I whispered again, my voice trembling. "I… I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt them."

  The king’s laughter grew louder, filling the chamber with its cold resonance. "Ah, there it is. True surrender. Such a sweet sound."

  Voryn let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "I almost feel sorry for you. Almost." He glanced at the king, his expression smug. "What shall we do with her, Your Majesty? Perhaps a public display of her failure? I hear the people enjoy a good hanging."

  The king waved a dismissive hand, his lips curling into a cruel grin. "Oh, Kael, always so eager for theatrics. No, I think our little rebel needs to suffer first. Let her watch as her friends fall one by one. Let her feel the weight of her failure before we finish this."

  Voryn nodded, his grin widening. "A fine plan, Your Majesty. She’ll wish she’d burned with Eldoria by the time we’re done."

  Their words were venom, each one twisting the knife in my chest. But I clung to the spark of my plan, feeding it with every ounce of my determination. They were falling for it—hook, line, and sinker.

  The king leaned closer, his hand reaching for my chin to force my gaze upward. His cold, pale fingers brushed my skin, and I had to fight the urge to recoil. "Look at me, Kira," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "I want to see the moment your hope dies."

  I let my lip tremble, tears spilling down my cheeks. "You win," I murmured, my voice barely audible. "You… win."

  His cruel smile widened, and Voryn stepped closer, leaning casually on his sword. "Well, that was easier than expected. Maybe you’re not as clever as they say."

  The king straightened, gesturing grandly toward the guards. "Take her away. Bind her tighter. I don’t want her getting any ideas."

  Voryn smirked. "Don’t worry, Your Majesty. She’s already given up. There’s nothing left to fight for."

  With a movement so subtle it wouldn't be noticed by anyone else, my hand, bound behind my back, flickered in a series of quick signs.

  Fire.

  I had suspected that the iron shackles might hinder Elyse's magic, but as my eyes flicked to the small ball of light hovering near me, something inside me stirred with a flicker of hope. Despite the shackles, despite the iron weighing heavily on her powers, Elyse had managed to maintain the glow. The ball of light pulsed faintly. Iron could dampen magic, slow it down, but it couldn’t completely sever her link to the arcane if she still had a fragment of focus and will.

  I need fire.

  Her small ball of light pulsed faintly in response. A moment later, a prickling heat started to climb my wrists. It was uncomfortable, the smell of burning rope filling my nose, but I gritted my teeth and held still. Any sudden movement might draw attention, and that could spell disaster.

  With agonizing slowness, the ropes yielded, the flames eating away at the fibers. Finally, with a quiet snap, the last strand gave way. I brushed the smoldering remains onto the cold stone floor, willing them to quickly dissipate into wisps of harmless ash. The king's laughter, thankfully, drowned out the faint sizzle. The game was afoot.

  I glanced at Kass, a predator sensing an opportunity. Then, to Finn, a flicker of bravery replacing the despair in his eyes. Even Isaac, his face etched with fear, seemed to understand.

  I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. The irony of it all was almost laughable.

  The king, his cruel smile faltering for a moment, turned to me with a frown. "What is so amusing, child?" he inquired, his voice laced with suspicion.

  With a deep breath, I met the king's gaze, a steely resolve replacing the fear in my eyes. "You misunderstood, your Majesty," I declared, "I choose neither."

  In one swift motion, I snatched the ceremonial dagger from his hip, the jewel-encrusted hilt cool against my palm. Before the king or Voryn could react, I spun, kicking the king’s sword from his grasp. It clattered across the chamber, coming to a halt on the far side of the room.

  In that split second, the world narrowed to one purpose: survival. My brother, his eyes widening in disbelief, was mere steps away. The guard holding him, a hulking brute with a sneer plastered across his face, was completely unprepared for the dagger that arced through the air. It found its mark with a wet thud, burying itself deep into his neck.

  A choked gurgle escaped his lips as his grip on Kilian slackened. Time seemed to slow as he crumpled to the ground, his lifeblood staining the cold stone with a macabre crimson. My brother stumbled back, momentarily stunned, before I was there, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards me.

  The chamber erupted into chaos.