Moira leaped off Jasmine's back, brandishing her sword as they passed through the gates of the Royal Estate. Ironblades had already overrun the grounds, though Faerie guards were quickly driving them back. Moira rushed towards the nearest Ironblade and tackled him to the ground. His helmet went flying, revealing Marley.

    "Commander?" He gasped.

    "Order those beneath you to retreat," Moira snarled, angling the edge of her blade against his throat. "We will spill no more Faerie blood today."

    "But what about..."

    "If you wish to keep your life, I suggest you do as you're told." Moira pressed down harder and a thin line of red dripped from beneath her blade.

    "Stand down!" Marley hollered. "Stand down now!"

    Moira let Marley up, but snatched his discarded sword before he could reclaim it. She hurried over to Kalian, who was removing the bandages from one of his injuries. He wrapped the bloodstained fabric around the hilt of the iron sword and gripped it tightly, showing not a hint of pain. Moira gave a short nod, and Kalian led the way up a flight of marble stairs and into the manor.

    They were greeted by signs of a struggle. Bodies littered the floor, most of them Human. Portraits hung at odd angles. Furniture and trinkets were broken. There were dark puddles spreading across the floor. Shouts and clashing weapons echoed through the halls. Moira stuck close to Kalian as he tracked the sounds to their points of origin.

    They burst into a ballroom and found several Faeries attempting to hold off their Ironblade assailants. One auburn haired woman was struggling to reach a young girl, who was being dragged away by Malachi. "Mama!" The girl shrieked. "Mama!"

    Kalian's eyes shot to Malachi and the girl. Instantly, his gaze darkened and power crackled to life around him. "Take care of Malachi," he ordered. "I'll get Princess Rhosyn."

    Moira nodded and together, they rushed at the man. Malachi caught sight of them a heartbeat before they reached him. He dragged the young Faerie to her feet and hurled her at the two of them. Kalian caught the Princess and spun, shielding her from the spray of debris that followed an Ironblade soldier colliding with a wall.

    Moira rammed her shoulder into Malachi's chest and he stumbled backwards several paces. Malachi ducked beneath her next blow and landed a kick to the back of her knee. She went down, but managed to avoid the stroke of his sword. "Dagen swore you'd be stupid enough to come," he sneered. "He'll be pleased to know he was right."

    "He won't be pleased to know that you've failed," Moira retorted.

    "I've failed at nothing."

    Their swords locked with a resounding shriek. Moira braced herself, refusing to yield even an inch of ground to Malachi. She thrust her sword up, forcing Malachi's arms into the air. She whirled, bashing her elbow into his nose with a sharp crack. Malachi's head snapped back, blood leaking from his now crooked nose.

    "Bitch!" He seethed. "You're going to regret that."

    "I regret many things, but this isn't one of them."

    Malachi charged and Moira dropped low. She swept her leg through his, knocking him on his ass. Moira spun on top of him and lifted him by the collar of his leathers. She socked him in the nose and throat, ignoring the blood that clung to her knuckles.

    A shadow fell over her and Moira lifted her gaze. She found herself looking into the eyes of the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, and by far the most lethal. Not even Kalian's shadowy features compared with the King of Night's. Sapphire eyes, with pupils ringed by silver, reflected unfathomable fury. Dark membranous wings flared, their silver swirls radiating with magic. Black hair crowned his head, the only crown he needed.

    Moira lowered her fist and retreated. Malachi rolled onto his side, then pushed himself up to his knees. The King tilted his head, a cruel grin stretching across his lips. "Good. You know how to beg." Malachi began to tremble. "Unfortunately, I have no sympathy for those who harm my family. No amount of begging will change that."

    Moira's eyes widened as the King's nails grew into obsidian talons. Malachi didn't have a chance to scream. Those wicked talons tore through his chest, pushing his heart out through his back. Blood gushed and King Arius squeezed Malachi's heart until it was nothing but a withered pulp. He dropped the organ and lowered his hand. Magic erased the blood that clung to his flesh, and his talons retreated.

    The King's gaze fixed on her again, growing darker the longer he stared. Moira gulped, but refused to lower her head. "Where is Dagen?" Kalian stepped in between her and his King.

    "Who?" Another dark haired Faerie appeared behind King Arius. The two bore a faint resemblance to one another, although the newcomer had amethyst eyes and matching swirls in his wings, as opposed to silver.

    "The Ghost, General Ivar Dagen. Pale skin, pale hair, icy eyes."

    "He was here," the red haired female said. "He attacked us, but fled when we started to gain the upper hand." She tightened her arms around Princess Rhosyn, and the girl buried her face in her mother's neck.

    Moira cocked her head, noticing something unusual about this Faerie. Her ears weren't as pointed as the others, and her wings were covered in a layer of silver gossamer, instead of swirls. The woman, no, the Queen, rested her hand on the King's shoulder. She looked at Moira, narrowing her eyes.

    "Moira Lev," Queen Iyan said.

    "She's with me, my Lady," Kalian quickly explained.

    "Kal..." The second dark haired Faerie took a step towards him, his purple eyes darting to Kalian's back.

    "There's no time. Which way did Dagen go?"

    "I saw him leave through one of the back exits, near the training rings," the Princess said, her voice soft and unsteady. A few frightened tears dripped beneath her curled lashes.

    Instantly, King Arius held out his arms and the young girl reached for him. She hooked her arms around her father's neck and rested her cheek on his shoulder. Her small wings were wrapped tightly around her body. "Can you handle him alone?" The King asked Kalian.

    "He was the one who led the attack on Cosette." Kalian was watching the pair, his eyes alight with longing. "He killed Calandra and Yara."

    The second male rested his hand on Kalian's shoulder. "Make sure you give him the death he deserves," he growled. Kalian nodded and left the room without another word. Moira began to follow, but paused when the male called after her, "Who did that to him?"

    Moira glanced over her shoulder, meeting the Faeries' gazes one at a time. "Dagen."

    "Kalian was my father's best spy," King Arius said. "He was rarely caught, and it usually only happened if he wanted it to. Was this a rare time when he made a mistake, or did he let himself be captured?"

    Moira thought for a moment. "Both," she answered, and hurried out of the ballroom.

☽◦༻◦☽◦༺◦☽

    Kalian wasted no time leaving the manor. He paused only briefly when he reached the Royal Family's private training rings. Kalian ducked into a shack and grabbed a Faerie-made sword, leaving the iron sword behind. When he emerged, Moira pointed towards a moving blot in the distance.

    "It looks like he's retreating," Moira said. "But he wouldn't do that."

    "Unless he knew he was going to lose," Kalian countered.

    Moira stroked her chin thoughtfully. "Or if he was setting a trap. Malachi said he knew we would come. What if he's baiting us?"

    "Does it matter? We still have to stop him." Kalian broke off, hearing a shrill whistle approaching. "Get down!"

    He threw himself at Moira, tackling her to the ground and shielding her body with his own. A smoldering vial of blast powder connected with the weapon shack beside them. The entire building erupted with an ear splitting boom. Shrapnel sliced through the air, ricocheting off Kalian's shield.

    Kalian stood slowly, coughing as the acrid scent of the powder burned in his nostrils. He blinked, squinting through the haze the explosion had left behind. A horse was trotting towards them. For a moment, he thought it might be Jasmine. Then, its features became clear. It seemed larger than the average mount, and there was an oddly intelligent glint in its silver eyes.

    I was told there was a Faerie in need of my assistance, the horse's voice whispered through Kalian's mind. A Faerie without wings, who needs to fly.

    "Kalian." Moira tugged on his arm. "We need to hurry."

    "This is a Faerie horse," Kalian breathed. "I've never met one before."

    "Admire him later. Dagen is getting away."

    If you require assistance, Shadow of Death, I am honored to serve as your mount. The horse bowed its great ebony head. I am called Zelek.

    "Kalian," he introduced himself, offering a hand to the stallion. The horse sniffed deeply.

    "Did you just introduce yourself to a horse?" Moira asked, arching a brow.

    If proper etiquette shocks your Mortal, perhaps she should stay behind, Zelek huffed.

    "You've offended him," Kalian chuckled, swinging onto the horse's back. "Come on. He's going to help us reach Dagen."

    Moira took his hand and Kalian pulled her up behind him. Zelek snorted, but voiced no protests. He reared up and bolted away from the manor, galloping faster than Kalian had ever ridden before. Wind gusted against his cheeks and Kalian closed his eyes. For a brief moment, he could almost imagine that he was flying.

    Zelek jumped over a fence and the movement jarred Kalian's injury. He opened his eyes, tightening his hand around the hilt of his sword. The first thing he would do was reclaim Asar and his dagger. Then, he would fulfill his promise to Moira. His promise to Calandra and Yara. He would take Dagen's life by stabbing him, then by slitting his throat.

    Zelek whinnied, tossing his head excitedly. He put on another burst of speed and Kalian fisted his hands in the horse's mane. Moira clung to him tightly, her face pressed in between the stumps of his wings. A lone man appeared ahead of them, sprinting towards a set of ruins in the distance.

    Zelek skidded in front of Dagen and Kalian dismounted. "Well, well, well," Dagen crooned. To his credit, he showed no signs of fear. "It looks like I get to finish the job after all."

    Kalian swung his sword in a lazy circle, drawing closer to Dagen with every step. "Except you won't succeed." He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "You've been running for miles, and fighting for most of the day. Before that, you were traveling at a grueling pace. But me," Kalian spread a palm flat against his own chest. "I'm still full of energy."

    "You're a half dead Faerie bastard!"

    "Half dead? Maybe before, but not right now. Right now, I'm angry. Two years of hunting. Two years of pointless deaths. Two years of wishing I was dead, but knowing I couldn't die until I'd found my wife and daughter's killer. Two years of empty leads and walking in circles." Kalian pointed his sword at Dagen, who drew Asar in return. "All of that, and I found you by accident."

    "I took everything from you. Your wife, your daughter, your wings, your home... Do you honestly still believe you can defeat me? What even is the point?"

    "I know I can." Kalian's smile turned cold. "And the point is to stop you. To stop what you're doing, and prevent others from doing it for you." He fell into one of his favored starting positions, waiting for Dagen to make a move. "And to avenge my wife and daughter," Kalian hissed. "So they can finally be at peace."

    "Well, you can explain your failure to them in person." Dagen raised Asar and lunged.