Page 105 of Kingdom of Ash

“Take it off.” The queen began trembling.

“I’m—”

Aelin snatched the dagger from him, metal clicking on metal as she fitted the blade’s tip into the lock. The dagger shook in her ironclad hand. “Take it off,” she breathed, lips curling back from her teeth. “Take it off. ”

Lorcan made to grab the dagger, but she angled away. He snapped, “These locks are too clever. We need a proper locksmith.”

Panting through her clenched teeth, Aelin dug and twisted the dagger into the gauntlet’s lock. A snap cracked through the clearing.

But not the lock. Aelin withdrew the dagger to reveal the broken, chipped point. A shard of metal tumbled from the lock and into the moss.

Aelin stared at the broken blade, at the shard in the greenery cushioning her bare, bloodied feet, her breaths coming faster and faster.

Then she dropped the dagger into the moss. Began clawing at the shackles on her arms, the gauntlets on her hands, the mask on her face.“Take it off,” she begged as she scratched and tugged and yanked. “Take it off!”

Elide reached a hand for her, to stop her before she ripped the skin clean off her bones, but Aelin dodged away, staggering deeper into the clearing.

The queen dropped to her knees, bowing over them, and clawed at the mask.

It didn’t so much as move.

Elide glanced to Lorcan. He was frozen, eyes wide as Aelin knelt in the moss, as her breathing became edged with sobs.

He had done this. Led them to this.

Elide stepped toward Aelin.

The queen’s gauntlets drew blood where they scraped into her neck, her jaw, as she heaved against the mask. “Take it off!” The plea turned into a scream. “Take it off!”

Over and over, the queen screamed it. “Take it off, take it off, take it off!”

She was sobbing amid her screaming, the sounds shattering through the ancient forest. She said no other words. Pleaded to no gods, no ancestors.

Only those words, again and again and again.

Take it off, take it off, take it off.

Movement broke through the trees behind them, and the fact that Lorcan did not go for his weapons told Elide who it was. But any relief was short-lived as Rowan and Gavriel emerged, a massive white wolf hauled between them. The wolf whose jaws had clamped around Elide’s arm, tearing flesh to the bone. Fenrys.

He was unconscious, tongue lagging from his bloodied maw. Rowan had barely entered the clearing before he set down the wolf and stalked for Aelin.

The prince was covered in blood. From his unhindered steps, Elide knew it wasn’t his.

From the blood coating his chin, his neck … She didn’t want to know.

Aelin ripped at the immovable mask, either unaware or uncaring of the prince before her. Her consort, husband, and mate.

“Aelin.”

Take it off, take it off, take it off.

Her screams were unbearable. Worse than those that day on the beach in Eyllwe.

Gavriel came to stand beside Elide, his golden skin pale as he took in the frantic queen.

Slowly, Rowan knelt before her. “Aelin.”

She only tipped her head up to the forest canopy and sobbed.

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