Fireblood (Fireblood 1)

I frown, wondering what Xander’s reasons could be, and if they have anything to do with the orders from Fallon that he questioned. Devlan told me of how Xander came to be a Rebel—how he was Fallon’s first mark, but she disobeyed Micah’s orders and didn’t kill him. I feel like an important piece of that story is missing, though, a piece that only Fallon and Xander know. I hope we survive. I’d love to know Xander’s secret.

“We’ve been spotted, of course,” Devlan says, coming up beside me. “But Sebastian’s holding off his army, waiting for us. He wants a clear view of the carnage, I’m sure.” He rubs his forehead. “Once we’re over the wall, it won’t be long before we’re under full attack. We’ll have only minutes to fight our way to the control room.” His eyes search me, landing on my stomach. “I don’t think—”

I cover his mouth with mine, halting him from telling me, yet again, that I’m in no condition to fight. Before we left

the camp, he dressed my wounds, wrapping both my stomach and shoulder securely so they won’t re-open. Nothing will stop me from facing this with Devlan. We’ve been together from the start, and we’ll finish this together.

As his lips caress mine, I pull him closer, knowing that this could be the last time I feel his arms around me, his lips touching mine. All too soon, the kiss ends, and I stare into his pale blue eyes.

“I’m ready,” I say.

He places a kiss on my forehead before he snaps the rope to my harness, attaching an extra belt for added security. “Straight to the castle when you’re over. No looking back.” The cord pulls taut, and I lift off the ground.

Maneuvering my feet one above the other, I climb as the person on the other side of the wall winches me up. Flexing my stomach muscles causes more pain than I’ll admit to Devlan, and sweat beads on my brow. My shoulder throbs, but I don’t look down. I know he’s close behind me, and I focus on clearing the top without thinking about height or pain.

When my limbs start to tremble as I reach the top, I think of getting inside the castle without being killed. It’s less scary than my position at the moment.

I hunker low on top of the wall and sweep my gaze across the Court grounds. Devlan was right. An army awaits us on the field. Damn. There was no use in trying to be stealthy. We should’ve just buzzed the front gate.

The army stands at attention, guarding the castle. The tournament field has been cleared, and the knights cover every inch of it. There are so many of them. A knot twists my stomach.

Crawling to the other side of the wall, I keep low. Bracing my feet against the stone, I push off. The ground comes at me quickly as I drop down. Before I unhook myself from the rope and belt, I glance at the Rebels forming a line, ready to march on the army of knights awaiting us just past the trees.

Devlan drops down beside me and unhooks his harness. “Zara,” he says, a serious tone to his voice. “I meant what I said. If I fall behind, you get inside the castle.” His pale eyes deepen into a stormy gray.

“Devlan, I know what I have to do.” I run my hand along his cheek. “Duty first, right?”

He presses his lips into a firm line. “Right.” Then he rests his forehead on mine and says under his breath, “Let’s go.”

In a heartbeat, we leave the Rebels behind. They are to face off with Sebastian’s army while two teams infiltrate the castle. Silas has joined Fallon as her acting second in command, while Xander works whatever strategy he has from the inside. Devlan and I are team number two. The teams will come in from opposite sides, giving us a better chance that someone will make it to the secret chamber. Hadley and Cecily are back at Mordred, being our eyes.

A glimpse of Sebastian’s bright, golden eyes flickers in my mind, and I pause. Shaking my head, I press on. I can’t doubt the mission now. I risked everything last time, when I believed in him, when I thought the good inside him would overpower Hart’s corruption. But the monster he’s so quickly become only proves we’ve yet to see the worst of his reign.

Sebastian has to be taken out.

If we succeed, there will be no king, no ruler, no dictator. Only, some form of government is needed, or else we’ll be no better than the lawless cannibals earlier governments left in the wake of their destruction.

All this can be settled once we rid the kingdom of its tyrant. Right now, I’m merely praying I make it to see such a debate take place.

As Devlan and I round the field, cloaked behind trees and brush, I seek glimpses of the army of knights to my right. They’re standing so still, like statues. I find that odd, considering they’ve seen the Rebels coming over the wall. They should be readying themselves for the fight.

I look behind me. The Rebels emerge from the treeline. They are lining up in attack formation, but the army holds still.

I halt.

What are they waiting for?

Devlan turns around, his face drawn. “Zara,” he whispers. “What are you—” His words are cut short as his eyes follow mine.

Dread barbs my chest. Squinting, I peer at the knights, trying to see past their helmets and raised visors. The back line is closest to us, and I strain to get a better look. They’re the last row to go into battle and they, too, stand at perfect attention. Only, they’re not all men.

There are women and children, also. Their skin is pallid. Their eyes are sunken, hollowed and lost. This is not an army waiting for the command to go to war. These are people being controlled—waiting to be steered to their deaths.

The Taken.

In the middle of the last row is the face of the man I will never forget, no matter how changed. The reason why I’m here.

My father.