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  Edric attacked, his thrusts, lunges, downward strokes, and slashes came too quick. Marlow struggled to block each hit of the blade but received cuts he had never had the pleasure of experiencing before. With each strike Edric stepped forward, pushing Marlow up against the wall, leaving the coward without an exit.

  Marlow’s eyes were wild with fright and his breaths quickened as he desperately searched for a way out of the fight.

  Edric shook his head. “You will never command an army. You will never make the sacrifices it takes to lead men to their deaths. You are, and always will be, nothing but a spoiled brat. Your money will never buy loyalty.”

  Marlow’s gasps came with little squeaks, and though Edric didn’t look, he was sure the man wet himself just then.

  “You wouldn’t dare kill me,” he said. “It would only look worse on you.”

  “Care to take a wager on that?” he asked as he pointed the tip of his blade at Marlow’s heart, or where it should’ve been. To add his point further, he put a little pressure, enough to puncture the nice, expensive leather vest he wore.

  Marlow tried to press himself even farther into the wall. As he lifted his hands, he released his sword, sending it clanking to the ground.

  Edric cocked his head to the side and narrowed his gaze on his old comrade. “Call off the men.”

  Marlow’s mouth moved but he didn’t form words.

  A little more pressure into the tip of his sword and Edric said, “Call off your men. Now.”

  “Retreat,” Marlow’s voice squeaked.

  Edric shook his head. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  “Retreat!” Marlow’s voice came out stronger. “Fall back!”

  Edric took a step back from him, removing the sword from Marlow’s chest. “I suggest you figure out just where your loyalties lie before they get you killed.”

  Marlow nodded quickly and rushed away, leaving behind his sword and a puddle from where he had stood. Edric shook his head again as he reached over and picked up the sword. He sheathed both of them into his belt around his waist then went to find Andreas, Ezekiel, and Sophia.

  Something about that whole interaction told him the fall back was just a temporary thing. He wanted to make sure the use of the time they were just given was enough to get them the hell out of there before they showed up with reinforcements.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sophia

  Sophia cornered Winston in the old market place. He turned and smiled at her. Bile rose in the back of her throat and she realized he purposefully led her here. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, then held his arms out to the side.

  “Sophia, oh, Sophia. You are so predictable.”

  She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “How so?”

  “I knew you would follow me here. You did exactly what I wanted you to. You see? I knew you wanted me.”

  “What I want,” Sophia said, “is my sword and dagger back. Your head on a pike would be a nice addition.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “This cat and mouse game has grown tiring. This cat wants his reward. Give in to me, Sophia. Make it easier on yourself. I would hate to hurt a hair on that pretty head of yours by forcing you.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at that. “You? Hurt me?” She scoffed. “You really are delusional.”

  “I was hoping you would say that. Makes a firm hand a bit more meaningful.” Winston held out the sword and dagger with each hand. “These really are some peculiar weapons. A proper woman wouldn’t have need for them, would she?”

  Sophia narrowed her gaze on him, wishing he would hurry up and get to the point. She hated all this monologue. He really loved hearing himself talk. Too bad for him, she didn’t share in that. “They are mine, regardless. Return them to me or I will pry them from your dead, cold fingers.”

  He smiled wickedly and said, “Challenge accepted.”

  An amulet around his neck glowed with dim blue light. His eyes took on the color and he used the sword to attack Sophia with a lot more force than he naturally had. She wasn’t expecting the force at first and stumbled a little, but she quickly recovered and returned the attack. He smacked her and it was like lightning shooting through her skull.

  She held her cheek for a moment and pursed her brows. He didn’t have magic or abilities to wield it. He was just a stupid, puny, asshole of a human. Recovering, she stood a bit taller and rolled out her shoulders before stretching her neck from side to side.

  Two can play this game.

  She shot electrical sparks toward him. He dodged and the hit slammed into the corner of a building.

  He looked at the damage, shook his head, and made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Now, now, Sophia. Careful of the damage you do. You wouldn’t want the people to believe in that pesky little accusation of yours, hmm?” He paced in front of her.

  He was right. Unfortunately. Part of the rumor was that she wanted to destroy Nighthelm. If she was going to maintain the progress she made with the people, she would have to keep the collateral damage to a minimum if she could help it. Though it didn’t help that Winston managed to cheat and get his hands on magical artifacts that gave him powers he didn’t know how to handle much less should have in the first place. Magic was a fickle thing, and someone as power hungry as Winston should never have been allowed such access. Even now, the power corrupted him, poisoning his blood like the mountain magic would. His skin held a sickly glow and perspiration soaked his shirt. His body slightly trembled. It was as if he had extreme difficulty holding on to the power the amulets gave him. The man was completely out of his league. Sophia shook her head.

  “Where did you get the amulet?” she asked as she matched his pacing, keeping a safe distance from his blade and the magic he had no idea how to use.

  He shrugged. “I have my resources.”

  She remembered him telling her that he had ways of bringing her back from the dead. Making her his, whether she wanted him or not. A sharp twist in her gut made her bite the inside of her cheek. The bile rose in her throat and she had to take a few deep breaths to keep the nausea at bay. The last thing she wanted was to empty her stomach in front of him and give him the time to slap on whatever he had that he thought would make her obedient.

  “You don’t know what you are doing,” she said and thrust with her sword. He parried, attacked with his own, and she quickly blocked the attack, kicking him in the stomach.

  “I have more control over this than you could ever hope to have over your magic.”

  She smiled. “You have no idea.”

  She tossed a ball of fire at him. He caught it and threw it back. It grew bigger as it rushed toward her, and she had to duck and roll out of the way to avoid getting hit with it. He laughed. She turned her attention to him and glared. The magic pulsed deep within her, steadily rising to the surface. She didn’t want to have an episode in the middle of Nighthelm, despite the control she had gained over her magic. But if it meant taking out this nightmare of a man, she would gladly do so, and deal with the repercussions of the actions with a smile on her face.

  He shot purple lightning at her and she worked hard to dodge the bolts as she pulled out the same tactic and thought of how she could conjure ice. Or, perhaps, anything that would get him to just fucking die already.

  He continued to laugh as he threw magic after magic at her, and she tried to do the same. It was all a game to him. And he had no idea the control of the power she had.

  Having had enough of this, she charged him, sword at the ready, and knocked him to the ground. She straddled him, with her knees on his shoulders, and pounded at his face with her fists. Little zaps of energy sparked along her knuckles and left the man’s skin charged in spots. She pulled at the amulet and tossed it behind her and cut off the hands that had rings, and even pulled off a wrist cuff that she assumed enhanced his newfound abilities. Anything she suspected of helping him, she got rid of. She ignored his screams and the loud cries for hel
p.

  Standing, she took back her sword and dagger and then stared down at him. Holding out her hand over his body, she closed her eyes as a small, white ball of concentrated, wild magic burst from her hand and incinerated the bastard.

  Standing back, she watched as he turned to ashes. Her gaze then shifted to the sword. It glowed at her touch. It was the first time she held it without her gloves. Reminded of what happened with the oracles, she quickly sheathed her sword and dagger. The sword was such a powerful artifact. She didn’t want to accidently destroy it and fail in her purpose to restore the crown.

  She stayed for a few moments longer as she absorbed the heavy moment of when Grindel gave her the dagger and how he had died because of Winston and the Nameless Master. After letting a few tears fall, she wiped them away and went to find and rejoin her men. She hoped Andreas fared well. Though she trusted his wraith brethren, she worried about him fighting in the condition she left him in. That thought urged her feet forward and her pace quicker. The sooner she got back to her men, the better.

  Chapter Forty

  Sophia

  Halfway back to the town’s center, alarms rocked throughout Nighthelm. The people had returned to their homes and likely locked all their doors and windows. Marching feet started echoing through the streets, and Sophia knew they would never survive another fight. Especially with Nighthelm’s entire army.

  She found her men with the wraiths in the town center. She breathed a relieved sigh as she wrapped her arms around each of her men and placed a kiss on their cheeks. She was glad they were relatively unharmed. Andreas even seemed to have been doing better. He smiled at her.

  Edric said, “We have to go. The soldiers will be here any moment now.”

  Sophia nodded. “Where can we go?”

  “I talked with my brothers,” Andreas said. “We have a town we set up in case of persecution. We have been invited to join them.”

  “We can’t stay here any longer,” Ozul said. “Not now that we openly stood against Nighthelm guard.”

  Sophia frowned. She didn’t think of the consequences at the time. Now she felt responsible for alienating an entire race from their homes. “I’m sorry.”

  Mica snorted. “Don’t be. We’re liberated.” He smiled, and she felt a little better. Not much, but still. “We have to go now.”

  “Lead the way,” Sophia said.

  Her and her men followed the wraiths through the Shade to an exit at the far end of the city. They filtered through the gate and fled into the woods. Sophia kept her eyes peeled for grimms. They were still after her. Thankfully, the alarms from Nighthelm faded into the distance. Not long after that, the group’s pace slowed to an even march.

  The trees grew thinner, and Sophia could see the tiny houses and a firepit already lit. Other wraiths were already there, setting up shops and settling in. Once she crossed the threshold, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. The tension in her shoulders eased, and Andreas led them to a small house nearby that was reserved for them.

  After settling down for the evening, they were able to enjoy a hot meal and fill their bellies. Sophia relaxed with her men. Andreas was all bandaged up and looking better than ever. She smiled as she was grateful his injuries weren’t worse. It was too close this time, and she would never be able to live with herself if the worst had happened.

  But it didn’t. And she thanked her lucky stars for that.

  “What do we do now?” Ezekiel said. “Nighthelm is sort of off limits and we still have yet to figure out who that girl is.”

  Sophia nodded. “First, I think a good night’s rest will do us all some good.”

  “I agree,” Edric said. “But we do need to come up with a plan.”

  “Sleep first,” Andreas said. “We can talk about plans and taking over the world tomorrow.”

  “Hopefully, the Nameless Master won’t usurp the duchess before then,” Sophia said. But she knew he was right. They had fought long and hard. They needed the time to rest and recuperate without further talk of war on the horizon.

  “How do you know that?” Ezekiel asked.

  Sophia shrugged. “I just do. It happened right before the vexsnare attacked. I can’t explain it, but it was like I knew these things.”

  Ezekiel stared at her, waiting for more information. When she didn’t speak, he added, “That’s it? Nothing else?”

  “For now, that is it. I’ll talk about the rest later.” Sophia laid back on the ground, tucking her arms behind her head. The stars above them twinkled brightly, and a gentle breeze blew over her, giving her a small reprieve from the heat of the fire nearby. She smiled to herself as her men laid down next to her.

  Sophia had come so far from where she was just a short time ago. She was so close to living up to the purpose the oracles had given her. Though she still had a long road ahead of her, she felt closer than ever to the heirs. She felt it deep within her, filling her with hope.

  Rest now. Fight later.

  Before she realized it, her eyes had become difficult to keep open. She was safe where she was, with her men and the wraiths. All she had to do was sleep. Peaceful, restful, and well-earned. And with that, her eyes closed, and she drifted off.

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  About the Author

  OLIVIA ASH

  Olivia Ash spends her time dreaming up the perfect men to challenge, love, and protect her strong heroines (who actually don’t need protecting at all). Her stories are meant to take you on a journey into the world of the characters and make you want to stay there.

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