FOR HER, HE WILL SET EVERY KINGDOM ON FIRE.
Kyron LeFur never wanted to be king. He may have united a torn people and ended a bloody war, but none of that matters without his queen. She sacrificed her crown for him, and now he will stop at nothing t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Fuck," I groan, turning onto my side and pulling the blanket around me over my shoulder.
Pain shoots through every joint, every muscle. The surface I'm lying on is uncomfortable, but that's nothing new. I've spent hundreds of nights making do with what I have. Sand, rocks, even mud, I've slept in the worst of conditions. It appears the situation I find myself in is no different—a situation I don't remember.
The crackle of fire summons me to wrench my eyes open. I stare at the flames for a moment, wracking my brain for the missing memories. They elude me. Every time I think I've grasped one, they slip away like a pesky bee who won't be caught. I gather the strength to lift my head and take in the rest of my environment. Snow glitters on the tops of towering gray rocks, and stars shimmer brightly in the clear night sky. It's cold, so fucking cold. The kind of chill that is bone deep.
I run my hand over my chest and hiss. The number of scars I've collected over the years is countless. Stab wounds, burns, a solid punch to the face, but none of them compare to whatever this is. An image flashes in my head—four sharp claws ripping down my torso. Images of a battle rearrange like puzzle pieces in my head until they are one clear picture. It was a brutal fight with the Allaji. We were overpowered, and I should have died on that snow-covered field.
"How are you feeling, Ky?"
My gaze darts to the side. Terro sits at the opening to the alcove we're in. His back rests against a rock with his arm resting over a bent knee. He is bundled in a heavy jacket, and his braids peek out from the bottom of a cap. His attention splits between me and whatever lies outside of our shelter.
"I feel like shit," I grumble.
"Being stupid and not treating wounds before riding for hours will do that to you."
I glare at him and shake my head. "I was running off pure instinct. We needed to get the fuck out of there before more arrived and we couldn't fight them off."
The overwhelming desire to ensure that everyone is all right has me inching upright. I grit my teeth against the pain until I'm propped on one arm. Ulric sits hunched over in the corner; his face buried in the neck of his jacket. The fabric does nothing to dull the snore coming out of him. It's animalistic.
"Where is Raelle?" I ask, a tight ball of worry knotting in my gut.
Terro runs his palm over his jaw and returns to watching the entrance. "She's with Greer and Ashavee."
"And where are they?"
"You need to relax, man. The three of them are a force to be reckoned with. They can take out you, me, and Ulric in no time."
My worry shifts to panic. "Where. Are. They," I say, gritting my teeth.
He stands and moves toward me with his hand out like he is trying to keep me from attacking. I already know what's coming, but it still hits me like a blow to the stomach when he says, "They went to find the Imperium."
