Page 92 of Where Darkness Falls

“You’ll probably want to take your hand off of my second commander, Rosey,” I warn, my voice full of ire. “The king is quite possessive of his prizes.”

Her eyes are laced with unmistakable hatred as she unweaves her hand from Laisren’s bicep.

“Regardless of what your king believes, I’m not a prize, and I belong to no man,” she seethes.

Ignoring her and the ache in my chest, I announce to the sentries, “Miss Cale has an audience with their Royal Highnesses.”

They nod, opening the massive doors that creak loudly, revealing the dark architecture within.

“Miss Cale, the High General, and the Cadre, Your Majesties,” the left sentry announces.

In the center of the room, sitting on their thrones, is the king and his consort. Thankfully, Domhnall is nowhere in sight…yet.They look every ounce the sinister duo: Tiernan with an elaborate black mantle laying across his shoulders in his usual emerald tunic and black slacks, his dark crown adorning his head. Orla in a regal gown the shade of lavender, matching her eyes, with her tall, spiked onyx crown atop her head as she occupies the seat that belonged to my mother.

I want to rage and drag her by the nape of the neck off the throne that she defiles with her iniquitousness, but I can’t. Her lips slant into a malicious smirk as we approach.

“I’ve brought the one that wears the Dragon’s Flame before you, as you’ve requested, Your Highnesses,” I address them, bowing.

By the rustle behind me, I assume the rest of the group is following my lead.

“You’ve done well, High General,” Tiernan says in his lilting voice. “Now, leave us alone.”

I stiffen. “Pardon?” I ask.

Surely, he doesn’t expect me to leave heralone… with them.

Orla’s derisive laughter echoes throughout the throne room. The very sound makes me want to claw my eyes out. It’s manic and malicious—a complete contrast to the sweet sound of Maeva’s laugh. Orla lowers her lavender eyes onto mine, appearing almost predatory.

“You heard him,” her shrill voice rings out, grating against my nerves. “Be gone! All of you! We have much to discuss with the keeper of the Dragon’s Flame.”

“No disrespect, my queen,” I say as the softness in my tone turns my stomach. “I was given orders not to leave her side.”

“Do you question a direct order, High General?” Tiernan’s harsh voice rings out. “Go stand outside the doors with the sentries. I’ll call for you when it’s time to escort her back to her chambers.”

The slight glow in his eyes and ring leave no room for argument, and I don’t wish for my Cadre or Maeva to see me cower under the loyalty oath’s command. Still, he told me yesterday I’d at least remain in the room for this conversation. I assume Domhnall changed his mind—allowing his venom to seep into the king’s deteriorating mental state and poisoning him against his only son.

I dip my head. “As you wish, my king,” I reply.

Turning around, I signal for Laisren and Riordan to exit the room, though their hesitation mirrors my own. Maeva’s eyes are full of panic. I tower over her, forcing her to look up at me.

“We’ll be outside,” I whisper, hoping she’ll hear what I mean between the words I can’t say:

I’ll break down the doors to get to you if you need me.

Maeva gives a slight nod of her head, then I maneuver around her, leaving her in a room full of serpents where she’s easily the prey.

Siorai, protect her because I can’t,I murmur to myself.

As the doors close behind us, I take one final look at the woman standing before the king and queen, hoping that the silent god is listening.

The throbbing pressurein my head overwhelms me as I take in the expansive throne room. It feels familiar to me, yet I’m quite certain that I’ve never been here. I’ve never seen dark architecture such as this. Yet, the shapes and layout remind me of…something. It’s constructed from alabaster, as well as deep oak and mahogany woods. Everything is laced with gold, which makes the dark ambience glitter—much like the stars on top of the Cales’ roof at night.

My heart clenches at the intrusion of the thought.

What would Cara think of all this if she were here?

The knots in my stomach twist tighter as my gaze lands on the king and queen. I’ve never imagined a place to appear just as fearsome as its rulers, yet somehow the Palace of Nightmares has accomplishedsuch a feat.

The king is achingly handsome with dark black hair and chiseled features. His wiley good looks make him appear transcendent. The onyx crown is constructed from black diamonds, with vertical spikes sharp enough they could be used as a weapon. His mantle lays across his shoulders, making him appear more intimidating than I could’ve imagined—a stark contrast to his twinkling amber eyes. Similar to his crown is a large gem that adorns the king’s right hand. His body oozes power in a way I’ve never encountered from another being—not even Emyr. Yet there’s something within the undercurrent of his power that feels tainted. It feels strange and dark.

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