Page 187 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

Let them all believe I am the villain of this tale. As long as they are safe, I do not mind being the truest monster of them all.

Tabitha Wysteria

Ash had not noticed the deceit until it had already slithered through the castle’s walls, embedding itself into the heart of the evening like a venomous serpent. The Grand Hall had been alive, a great beast of laughter and clinking goblets, the scent of roasted meats wafting through the air as the nobility basked in the illusion of peace.

And Ash—fool that he was—had been preoccupied.

His gaze had lingered on Mal’s siblings, their presence a dagger lodged beneath his ribs. Had they known of her betrayal? Had they watched him, knowing he was a man condemned, awaiting the cruel hands of fate? Surely, surely, they must have known.

Kage Blackburn had left suddenly, his dark eyes shining with something sharp and unreadable before he strode off, leaving Bryn Wynter and Haven Blackburn exchanging glances of confusion. Ash had barely been able to look at Haven—her face was too similar to Mal’s, a painful reminder of what he hadlost in the span of mere hours.

How could life shift so violently in a single day? One sunrise ago, he had woken beside his wife. He had kissed her bare shoulder, traced the curve of her jaw, whispered loving words into the warmth of her skin. He had been happy. And then—Hagan. Hagan had come and torn it all apart.

At some point, Ash had searched for his oldest friend, but Hagan was missing. Odd. The Red Guard had always been close, too close, lurking in the shadows of Ash’s every move.

The king had clapped his hands, summoning the next course, and Ash had barely spared a glance as the servants stepped forward, gracefully replacing dishes. He had not noticed the one standing at his father’s side. He had not seen the golden hands shift, skin darkening into a hue marred by inked runes, fingers curling around something hidden within their sleeve.

‘The witches salute you, King Egan.’

A flash of purple. The glint of silver.

Ash’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the blade too late.

The dagger found the king’s neck, slipping in like a lover’s kiss. Blood gushed forth, a crimson bloom spreading over silk and gold.

Screams erupted.

Servants turned upon their masters, slicing through unsuspecting throats with merciless precision. The scent of wine and roasted lamb was drowned beneath the stench of spilt life.

And now—only corpses remained.

Ash had fought. God, he had fought. Haven had been at his side, her sword cutting through enemies like fire through parchment. The necklace at her throat had stirred without warning, shedding its stillness as it unravelled in a slow, sinuous glide down the contours of her body. In the next breath, the shadow-serpent had struck—silent and swift—its bite lacedwith something far subtler than venom, drawing its victims into the quiet void of unconsciousness as effortlessly as night swallows the last trace of dusk. Bryn Wynter had joined them, his blade flashing like the steel fangs of a wolf. But it had not been enough. The witches were too many.

Now, he sat bound, shoved into a chair, his wrists trapped by an invisible noose that cut deep into his skin without ever touching him. Across the room, hidden in the darkness, he saw Wren Wynter, pressed behind a column, her blue eyes wide with silent fury.

Above them, perched upon a grand chandelier, Kage’s crow watched. Waiting.

The doors of the Grand Hall swung open, and Hagan stormed in.

His presence should have been a relief—his best friend was safe, unharmed. The rush of it nearly knocked the breath from Ash’s lungs. But then—

The witches followed him.

Not as captors. As shadows at his heels.

A slow, suffocating dread pooled in Ash’s stomach, something dark and ugly coiling inside him.No.

No, no, no.

Hagan turned to face him, and his eyes—

They were purple.

‘Your sister is gone,’ Hagan said, voice smooth, too smooth, as if the words were silk gliding over sharpened steel.

Ash's breath turned to ice.Gone.

Not dead.Notdead.

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