Page 188 of The Trials of Ophelia

The three of us lowered carefully onto our stomachs to peer over the space between our stretch of tile and the skylight. A narrow stone balcony surrounded the second story of the courtyard, mostly in shadow, though the gap gave perfect access to it. It was difficult to see the queen from this angle.

My pulses ticked away in my ears like alternating war drums as I swung my legs over the edge of the gap and dropped into the darkness of the balcony, landing in a silent crouch on the balls of my feet. The air shifted in the narrow space as Barrett and Santorina followed.

I ducked along the railing and took stock of the scene below. A second warrior stood resolute in the corner. With red-blonde hair braided back and dark armor cladding her frame, she would have been easy to mark as a soldier in the Engrossian army. But it was the vacant expression that gave her away. Not as addled as the prisoner I’d killed, but not entirely present either. A bruise bloomed across her cheek.

“May I?—”

Kakias slapped her, the woman flinching but not crying out.

“I have told you many times you will be freed to your family once this plan works. You may have your entire manor back. I do not care for it.”

Your family. The manor.

Trevaneth’s mother. The sting of betrayal worked through me, softened by the reminder that this warrior had been taken from her family years ago.

Glancing at Barrett and Rina, I knew they understood, too.

Kakias continued pacing circles around the courtyard as if she hadn’t just assaulted a warrior in her army. Her voice rang clear through the space. “She is unpredictable and powerful. Annellius warned of this happening.”

I nearly stumbled, the world sweeping out from right beneath my feet.

Annellius…my ancestor. The first Angelcursed, the only other warrior we knew of who was tied to the emblems as I was. Who had died trying to complete this task.

I clenched my necklace, fighting off a fresh wave of deception. He’d warned Kakias.

About what? And how? I’d only spoken to him during the Undertaking, and she couldn’t have done that.

Regardless, a deeper kind of treachery set into my bones. A curling need for answers and vengeance if he’d somehow aided her rather than me, his own descendant. The one who bore his own cursed blood and was plagued as he had been.

A gentle hand squeezed my shoulder, and I whipped my head around to meet the firm shake of Rina’s. It was only then that I realized I had gasped at my ancestor’s name. We froze, eyes locked, but Kakias did not react.

Swallowing the deception, dismissing the frustration stinging the back of my eyes, I nodded to assure Rina and Barrett I was steady. In control, though with every turn in this game of fate, the realization of how little control I truly held mounted.

Quietly, I stepped to the railing, biting back the cry of outrage I wanted to release at this queen and the Angels and Annellius and all of it. The heating in my blood that demanded my life stop being a toy to them all.

As Kakias rambled to herself, I unsheathed my dagger, letting her words bury the singing of the blade. I tipped the weapon toward Rina, knowing she had its twin strapped to her own body, the two a gift from Cypherion on my last birthday. The balcony swarmed with his strong, assured presence.

Flipping the weapon in my hand, I channeled that energy and hopped onto the railing.

I waited…waited…

And when Kakias prowled beneath my perch, I fell.

The queen’s frame wasn’t strong enough to catch my weight against her back. She crumpled beneath me as I wrapped my arms around her throat and legs around her hips. Together, we rolled across the floor, but I angled her to take the brunt of the impact.

Gripping Kakias’s shoulders in her confused state, I forced her beneath me.

My legs came to either side of her hips, pinning her.

“Miss me?” I purred against her ear, every bead of betrayal and hurt and loss turning those two words into something wicked.

And I sheathed my dagger between her ribs.

Chapter Sixty-Six

Malakai

Ombratta and I flew around the outskirts of the troops we’d divided, cutting through clusters of dueling warriors faster than a lightning strike. She was driven, climbing the path to the lookout like it hardly took any energy. Her hooves clattered over broken pieces of armor and fallen soldiers, and still she remained focused, the way only warrior horses could.

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