Page 199 of The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King

My chest clenched violently, so sudden and sharp it felt like the aftermath of a blow. The earnestness of what he’d just said cut me open.

But worse still was how much it sounded like a goodbye.

I said, voice tighter than I intended, “You accuse me of going soft when you’re spewing that sappy bullshit?”

He laughed, and I scowled. But I still didn’t move, settling more comfortably against his body. And when his hand moved down to mine, I threaded my fingers through his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that. Just watching the minutes tick by until the end of it all.

55

ORAYA

The minute the sun set, Jesmine roused the warriors. The bloodthirsty excitement of the night before was gone. Now, the soldiers were efficient, focused—a set of well-oiled gears grinding to life for one purpose alone. Warriors silently donned their weapons and armor, all ready and waiting. We didn’t have much time to strike. Every second counted.

The summoners had been preparing their sigils the entire journey, calling Nightborn demons the moment the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. Now I understood how Jesmine had used so many demons in her attack on the armory, what felt like a lifetime ago—she, wisely, had recruited many summoners to her army. Smart, because demons were far more expendable than people, especially in an army this woefully undermanned. I was grateful for the beasts now, disgusting as they were. We needed the bodies, and while demons weren’t as smart as vampires, they were certainly just as vicious.

We didn’t bother breaking down our tents, leaving them discarded in the sands, an eerily abandoned sea of debris left in our wake—looking as if thousands of people had simply disappeared into the desert.

We knew that either way, in victory or defeat, we wouldn’t be coming back.

Our offensive would be a fourfold attack. Vale’s allies’ fleets would circle Sivrinaj from the sea, splitting the attention of Simon and Septimus’s forces. Raihn would spearhead the airborne assault with Vale, bringing hundreds of Rishan and Hiaj warriors straight to the inner city. The demons and a smaller team of soldiers would approach by ground, breaking down the barricades and cutting a path to the castle, led by Ketura. And finally, Jesmine and I would lead an army into the tunnels, heading directly for the castle itself—between the two of us, we knew Vincent’s secret routes through the city better than anyone.

With the sun gone, Sivrinaj had become a ghostly silver outline, ominously lit with the flaring white of Nightfire. Sivrinaj was not usually so bright, not even on festival nights. They knew we were coming, and they were preparing for us.

Fine, I thought. Let them.

The warriors fell into formation, preparing to march. Raihn and I took our positions at the front of the group, Jesmine and Vale beside us.

“I think we’re ready, Highness,” Jesmine said quietly, then stepped back.

The world seemed to be holding its breath, waiting expectantly. Waiting for me—for us—to lead.

Mother, what a surreal experience. It was suddenly dizzying.

I glanced at Raihn, and I could see the same thought on his face. His brow twitched as he gave me a wry smile.

“I suppose that’s us, isn’t it?”

“Feels like we should have an inspiring speech,” I muttered.

“It does. You write anything?”

I scoffed.

“Shame,” he said. “You have such a way with words.”

I scowled, and he chuckled.

“Keep that face. That’s better, anyway.”

My eyes settled on the Sivrinaj skyline. The city that had kept me captive all my life, now captive itself. My kingdom, ready to be liberated.

I drew Vincent’s sword. As it always did, holding it filled me with a wave of cold strength that reminded me so painfully of my father’s presence, its power surging through my veins all at once.

I embraced it.

Nightfire rippled up the blade, my magic meshing with his.

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