Page 161 of Merciless Is My Crown

“We did it,” Raz murmured. “You did it, Anaria. When you told us your plan to kill the Shadow King, I didn’t believe it would work.”

“Someday,” I teased with an arrogance I didn’t feel, “you’ll learn not to doubt me. Where is Tristan? Is he around?”

I didn’t like it when I couldn’t see them all together. When I couldn’t touch them. They’d drifted in and out of my bed these past days, holding me through the night, feeding me, taking care of me. Pampering me like I’d never been pampered before. But…

“He’ll be here.” Tavion brushed his hand down my arm. “He went to check on the second convoy of wagons. See?”

Indeed, if I squinted, I could make out the sinuous form of a wyvern high above the forest, golden scales catching the sun every time he beat his wings. And piled in the grass…his clothes, neatly folded. Zorander’s handiwork if I wasn’t mistaken.

Raz gathered me against his chest, and I nestled closer, drinking in the scent of sun-warmed skin as his arms folded around me. I must have slept because when I woke, Tristan was already dressed, arms braced on his hips as he stared up at the Keep.

“Good morning, princess.” His eyes gleamed with mischief. “Or should I say afternoon?” I only gave him a lazy smile and stretched, then let Raz fold me against him once more.

The air smelled familiar, alive like it had in Caladrius, ripe with possibilities and an actual future. I wanted nothing more than to savor this perfect moment.

To bask in the sun with these males I loved and trusted as the wind played through my hair.

But…

“I trapped the Oracle inside her dream in a blood circle. Bella gave me the idea, then I learned how to cast one from a book. I don’t know how long the blood magic will last, but we have a narrow window of time to figure out how to kill her and Corvus without looking over our shoulders.”

Silence.

I cracked open an eye to find them both staring at me with something like shock on their faces.

Zor finally shook his head. “You could have prefaced that for us, Anaria. I don’t even know how to unpack that statement. I seriously don’t.”

“Not only that, when the shadow things—they’re called darklings, by the way—touched me, I had another vision.” Raziel’s eyes gleamed with worry as I added, “Like with the skulls. But this time…I wasn’t on this world. I was on the one we came from.”

I replayed every detail, including Gelvira tackling me through the portal she’d opened and us landing, I assumed, in the mountains north of Tempeste. I left out the part about me being a queen.

That, I’d decided, would be my new, quiet revolt.

Once, I’d fought to keep my virginity in a world that only wanted to take and take and take.

This would be my war against a world that wanted to put me on a throne, to imprison me with a crown on my head, a scepter in my hand, and power I didn’t want.

“Maybe you followed us through the portal, I don’t know, but we all ended up here,” I finished, tracing the mark on Raziel’s chest, darker now.

“Well, fifteen of us made it through, now seven of us are left.”

67

TRISTAN

The second convoy from the Havens finally arrived, the city was fed, and like a fucking miracle from the gods, some magic wielders from Southwell ventured out of their shops to help at the temporary hospital, tending the injured who were still coming in.

Despite our warnings, that wave had killed and maimed plenty of Fae, but the casualties could have been so much worse. I didn’t allow myself to dwell too much on how much worse, but both Tavion and I had gone down to the hospital every morning since.

Both to check on the injured and see if any were covered in black, thorny growths.

So far, nothing.

Nor was there any sign of the Oracle.

None of our debates had turned up any answers, so for today, at least, I was content to leave that monster wherever she was, hopefully still trapped in her dreams.

This morning, five days after we’d killed the king, we were making our first, and only, formal court appearance.

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