Caelan unclenched his jaw and roared at the growing darkness. His entire life, his destiny, had been tied to the throne, the Godstone, his fucking duty. And now it had all been ripped from him while he’d been sent away. He hadn’t been given the chance to protect his mother, his people, and the stone that had been bound and gifted to his family by the gods.
Falling to his knees, Caelan trembled in pain and rage. They were living beasts writhing and screaming for justice in his chest. He was a prince without a kingdom. A son without a mother. His destiny stolen.
Caelan stared up at the sky. The sun had slipped below the horizon in the west and stars were starting to wink into existence above their heads. A thicker darkness was clawing its way out of the Ordas, eating up the field and threatening to swallow the small town whole.
The pain and anger slowly hardened into cold resolve as he watched the shadows grow and deepen. He didn’t know if Erya was entirely in Empire hands or if they’d struck simply to steal the Godstone. He didn’t know if he had a home any longer or an army to strike at the Empire.
But he would take his home back. He would free the Godstone from the Empire.
And he would make them pay for killing his mother.
9
Rayne Laurent
Rayne stepped outside the store and looked at the key in his hand, barely registering what he held. His mind was spinning. Everything…everything was falling apart.
How had he not seen this coming? He felt like he should have anticipated this. There had to have been signs, clues, something that pointed to an eminent attack by the Empire.
There was a hard knot of pain in his chest and his brain was a useless clutter of confusion, accusations, and fragmented conversations. But the worst was the wave of nausea trying to sweep over him. He couldn’t shake this feeling that he’d failed Caelan. He’d failed the people of Erya by not anticipating this.
But he had to find a way to hold it all together. He had to see a way through this for Caelan, for the kingdom. A carefully laid plan was the only thing that had a hope of keeping them alive over the next days and weeks.
Clenching his fingers around the key, he walked down the street toward the diner and turned into the alley. Eno had texted their location and that he was trying to reach anyone in Stormbreak. Rayne had tried a couple of times, but without any luck. He was wary of anyone he might reach in the first place. Who could they trust? Had there been a betrayal from someone on the inside?
They needed to proceed cautiously. Carefully.
At the edge of the field, he found pretty much what he’d been expecting. Caelan was pacing like a man possessed, unable to remain still for a single second. His black hair was a disheveled mess; clearly he’d been running his fingers through it. If an Empire soldier happened upon them at that moment, Caelan would have cut him down before he could draw a breath. Despite his ragged appearance and frantic movements, there was still something regal about him. Calean’s royal lineage couldn’t be hidden under even the direst of circumstances.
Drayce was squatting a short distance away, his lanky arms wrapped around his knees and his chin resting on them as if he were trying to pull himself into the smallest ball possible and just disappear from the world. His blond hair and pale skin made him seem smaller and frailer than Rayne knew him to be. The young man had no family within the capital city as far as Rayne was aware, but a large number of friends. Was he worried about them now?
Eno stood behind Drayce, his phone pressed to his ear and his entire body rigid. He suspected Eno was holding it together simply because Caelan could not. Every bit the dutiful soldier ready to jump into action.
For just a moment, Rayne’s gaze strayed to the powerful muscles straining the thin cotton material of Eno’s stained black T-shirt. He could still remember the feel of those arms holding him last night as he’d drifted off to sleep. It had been a long time since he’d been held that way, felt safe and protected, but even then he’d not been able to sleep. With Eno, he’d dropped off in seconds.
He would have given anything to fall into those arms now, to rest his head on Eno’s wide shoulder and grieve for the people who’d died in Stormbreak. He wanted to comfort Eno and guide him through the pain he was burying deep inside, but he shoved the idea away. The best way to serve Caelan and the people of Erya was to pull themselves together and come up with a plan of attack.