Page 102 of Clash of Storms
It was the one thing his father and aunt couldn't fight.
Rumor.
Brother's throne....Two words designed to inflame. Let the queen try to smother this fire.
Even now it spread, drekling anddrekialike whispering ferociously.
If anything, Sigurd seemed to pale further.
The doors to the throne room burst open and a handful of his father's loyaldrekiwarriors erupted through it, armed to the teeth. Time for the final act. Just one more thing.
Reaching up, Sirius undid the silver chain around his throat, with the elegant silverdrekipendant Malin had been so enamored of.
It hadn't left his throat in decades, ever since his mother vanished. He would have given it to Malin if he'd ever been able to claim her as his mate. But he let the chain pool in his palm, and held it toward Sigurd. "Would you give this to Malin?" His voice sounded like rough-edged gravel. "If you see her again?"
Sigurd stared at it. "Malin?" A sudden understanding dawned in his dark eyes."Malin?"
"Its always been Malin."
The pendant and chain spilled into the male's palm, and the lore master looked troubled. "Does she know?"
"She does now." He paused. "Tell her, the fire's within her. I've felt it. Tell her I know she will fly one day. And I won't forgive her if she doesn't keep trying."
"Why can't you tell her yourself?"
Sirius glanced toward the throne room doors and the entourage they'd sent for him. "Because I daresay I won't get the chance."
"Father?" Elin whispered. "What's going on?"
"You would be wise to remove your remaining daughter from the court," Sirius murmured, nodding to the man as he slowly pushed past to meet his fate. "Clear the halls."
There was no fear within him as the eight warriors drew their swords. Merely a certain sense of tiredness. It was as if he'd always known it was going to come to this.
ZilittuversusZini. It was a choice he'd never been able to make in the past. He didn't fit into either clan; instead he'd stalked these hallways as a lone wolf, showing its teeth to those who sought to drag it down.
Malin had shown him the right choice.Small actions have large consequences.He could almost sense the ripples spreading throughout the court. The weight on his shoulders was gone.
He'd finally be able to repay the king for what he'd done.
Sirius smiled dangerously and moved as if through a dream, the drekling vanishing around him and the hallways fading into the distance. Reaching over his shoulders he drew both blades that were strapped to his back. It had been a long time since he'd been able to unleash himself.
They wanted the Blackfrost?
They could have him.
"Sirius," said thedrekiin the lead—Kristoff. They'd sparred together over the years and there was a faint hint of respect in his voice, as well as trepidation. A male determined to do his duty, even though he knew the outcome he faced. "The queen insists you lay down your weapons. You have been branded traitor to this court and stripped of your titles. If you come easily, then the queen will grant you a fair trial."
Fair. Amadea wouldn't even know the meaning of the word. He'd be lucky if he even saw the inside of the throne room. There was a reason half the guards had already drawn their steel. "And if I decline?"
"Then we will be forced to bring you before her," Kristoff replied firmly.
"In pieces, if necessary," said thedrekiat his side with a smirk.
Roland.
There was a growing void with Sirius, sucking all that remained of him down into darkness.You are going to be the first one who falls. "I think... I should like to see you try, Roland."
"Clear the halls," someone called behind him. Sigurd, perhaps. Removing those who might be at risk in the ensuing fight. "Hurry! Go!"
