Page 103 of A Trial of War
To Minaeve’s left, her twin’s dark hair flowed across his brow. His expression seemed serene, in a haunting way only he could manage. And between them, golden hair flowing across his brow, smirking like a traitorous snake, stoodGilen.
The cold sunlight peered through a break in the clouds, highlighting the endless lines of warriors behind our foes. They held firm in their formations, armor glinting under banners of gold and crimson flying high on strange towers built on rolling platforms. A low murmur of magic swept through their ranks, like the world drawing in a long breath before a raging scream.
My gaze locked with Minaeve’s for an instant that seemed to stretch on for a lifetime. I watched as her eyes flicked over the army behind me along the treeline, then to Daxton, until she slowly moved back to me.
The space between us vibrated with tension. My blood boiled with rage at the destruction she’d caused, not for the shifters and High Fae alone, but forallof Valdor. My phoenix prowled beneath my skin, restless and ready to fight.
Only one of us would be walking away from this.
Daxton stepped half a pace closer, a silent promise at my side. I lifted my chin, with the dagger clutched in my palm as I swallowed and readied myself.
“I’m with you, Spitfire,” Daxton said.
Minaeve smiled across the way, slow and wicked, as she glided her feet across the terrain. Each step was deliberate, with an air of arrogance, as if she believed she had already won this war.
I took a deep breath before stepping forward to meet her. The soft grass bent beneath my boots. Behind me, shifters growled, High Fae magic hummed, and steel whispered against sheaths and shields at the ready.
Daxton matched my stride without hesitation, falling into place at my right like he’d been forged there. Hispresence crackled with ice and fury, a cold counterpoint to the heat rolling along my fingertips. Our armies loomed behind us, embodying a wall of power and waiting violence.
I gritted my teeth.It’s time for the false queen to finally burn.
I couldn’t help my gaze darting to Gilen, who walked at Istar’s shoulder. He wore the same smugness as his allies. His betrayal was worn like a glorious crown on top of his head. His golden gaze slid over our ranks, lingering on Daxton before landing on me.
And then, he smirked.
My phoenix sang across the pack bond to the others at my back. A chorus of bears, wolves, and others in animal form rallied to my call.
Minaeve stopped ten paces from us.
I halted opposite her, with Daxton at my side. Power rippled off him in frigid waves as his stare narrowed on the woman who had tormented him for centuries. For a moment, the world stilled. There was only the whisper of shifting armor, the thrum of magic underfoot, and the faint tremor of thousands waiting for the first strike.
“Half-breed, you’re still breathing, I see,” Minaeve said. “How…inconvenient.”
I smiled back, sharp as a blade. “I could say the same.”
A few snickers rippled behind our ranks as Minaeve’s lips twitched downward.
Ignoring them, she tilted her head, eyes bright with a cruel, glittering satisfaction. “So, you call yourself an alpha queen,” she said, voice smooth as poison. Her gaze flicked toour joined front, her smile intensifying. “And here you stand with your loyallittleking.”
Daxton didn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting to her words, remaining steady at my side. I stepped half a pace closer, claiming the space between us as I brushed against his shoulder.
“Minaeve,” I said, my voice firm as it soared across the distance. “Your armies will not be enough to defeat us. Valdor willneverbelong to the likes of you.”
Istar huffed a laugh beside his twin. His turquoise gaze drifted over the battlefield as if he were already seeing the bodies that would litter it. His fingers trailed lazily along the hilt of his spear, clutched at his side.
Minaeve’s smile deepened, wicked and serpentine. “Oh, Skylar Cathal,” she said, drawing out each syllable. “Valdor already belongs to me.”
A chill caressed the nape of my neck as Daxton readied his magic. A soft breeze swirled around my hair, gifting me a sweet kiss of the lupine and fireweed before drifting away.
Minaeve had poisoned this world. It wouldneverbelong to her.
Istar’s fingers curled around the shaft of his spear. His smile was as wicked as his twin’s as he turned to Gilen. “Are you ready to earn your place?”
Gilen chuckled. “More than ready.” He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, like he was loosening up for a sport.
King Taran waited on his mount to Minaeve’s right, armored, ready for battle, but somehowempty.His eyes werehollow beneath his faceless helm. There was no spark, no fury behind a dull haze.
“Is the king even aware he’s here?”I asked Daxton.
