Tristan stood on the ruined drawbridge.
Dawn trickled over the battlefield. The earth was scorched in some areas, either from his explosives or dragon-fire. The air smelled of winter chestnuts and blood. Tristan fiddled with the lump in his pocket: he'd built six explosives last night, ranging from "an-impressive-display-of-fireworks" to "will-melt-your-bones-into-a-puddle" levels of strength.
He'd need all of them, today.
"Sandwich?" Owain offered.
The faerie prince stood beside him. He was dressed in human armour – brown fighting leathers, laced tight at the back — and his auburn hair shone like polished copper. He was working his way through a ham-and-cheese sandwich. Tristan looked at the thick slab of ham, thought of the soft flesh on the battlefield yesterday, and felt nausea rise in his throat.
Grayson's body had been on that battlefield.
Grayson, who was now dead. Grayson, who would never smile or laugh or bang on about shipping forecasts again.
A lump rose in his throat.
Tristan shook his head. "I'm not hungry." He squinted at the hilltop. "Can you see them?"
He couldn't see anything beyond the clouds hanging low in the sky, but Owain had superior vision. The faerie prince polished off his sandwich.
"They'll be here soon," Owain said.
Tristan glanced sideways. "I'm sorry. I know this must be hard. Your father..."
He couldn't bring himself to finish. They'd watched, shoulder-to-shoulder last night, as a group of soldiers carried the faerie king's body into the throne room. Owain had stood in silence for ten minutes with ghostly flames jumping in his eyes. Then he'd balled his hands into fists and retreated to their bedroom.
They hadn't spoken about it since.
Owain's face hardened. "He made his choices. Just as I'm making mine."
"And your brothers?"
Owain shrugged. "The same policy applies."
Tristan scanned the horizon. "I can't imagine facing my brother on the battlefield." He had no idea where Dex was these days, but it would be somewhere safe. Hidden. His brother was a politician, not a soldier. "He annoys the hell out of me, but I couldn't bring myself to..."
He trailed off. Owain wiped crumbs on his trousers.
"Can I meet him?" he asked.
Tristan blinked. "Pardon?"
"When this is over," Owain clarified. "I want to meet Dex."
Tristan tried to imagine the three of them, happily munching on caviar at one of those ridiculous restaurants that Dex liked, and failed. "Sure. If we make it through this, I'll set up a lunch. You can pretend to enjoy his tangents on the importance of tightening our borders to foreign magical species."
Owain's mouth quirked. "Deal." His gaze flicked back to the horizon. "They're getting closer, now. You'll be able to see them in a minute."
"How many?"
Owain's mouth was a flat line. "Too many."
Tristan glanced back. Three hundred soldiers manned the castle. The rest of their men — just over eight hundred, perhaps — formed three lines in front of them. And Owain was right, he realized; he could just make out dark shadows cresting the horizon. Lucia would be among them. Halson, too.
A knot tightened in his stomach.
He didn't want to ask. But he had to know.
"Will it be difficult for you?" Tristan asked. "To see him?"
Owain shook his head. "My feelings for Halson vanished a long time ago." He paused. "I know I should say that I wish my ex-boyfriend the best, but I actually hope he dies today. Brutally, and with a significant amount of suffering."
Tristan's laugh was startled. "I hope you never say that about me."
Owain raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
Tristan flushed. Shit. He didn't mean for that to sound... like it sounded. "Not that we're..." He waved a hand. "I mean, it's presumptuous of me to assume..."
Owain's smile grew. "I'd never say that about you, Tristan." His eyes were the shade of cloudless skies in summer. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that some loves are deserved. Others are not."
Tristan's heart hammered. "What are you saying?"
"I love you," Owain said, and it was not a statement, but an oath. "I don't know where we'll be in a year's time, or even a month's time, but I know that I want to be there with you. I want to be standing at your side."
Tristan blinked, searching for words. None of them sounded nearly as beautiful and elegant as whatever Owain had just come out with.
He licked his dry lips. "I..."
Owain clasped his shoulder. "Don't say anything now. Tell me after." He withdrew a sword. "They're here."
Tristan followed his gaze. Enemy soldiers streaked down the hill, their silver blades flashing like stars in the morning light. Sunhounds snarled, their paws eating up the grass. Tristan fumbled for the explosive in his pocket: his only real defense.
And then Tristan saw him.
Halson emerged from the pack. He was dressed in black armour, and his curly hair looked disturbingly boyish against his helmet. Foam flew from his horse's mouth. He leaned low over the steed, his gaze fixed on Anna, who stood calmly at the front of their army.
A figure broke loose from their side.
Penny streaked across the battlefield, her red hair streaming behind her like a torrent of flame. She was dressed in only light armour, a sword clutched in one hand. Her eyes were narrowed in determination.
Time seemed to slow.
Too late, Tristan put the pieces together: Halson had killed Grayson. Halson had taken the person that Penny loved most in the entire world. It didn't take a genius to work out what was about to happen next.
She was making a final stand.
Next to him, Owain tensed. "She's not seriously about to—?"
"Penny," Tristan breathed.
And he broke into a sprint.
**
Penny streaked across the battlefield.
Blood sang in her ears. She was dimly aware of Ryne shouting her name, of soldiers shifting in confusion, but she didn't care. Her gaze was fixed on Halson. The sword trembled in her hand. She was a shit swordswoman — there was no chance she'd beat Halson in combat — but that wasn't her only weapon.
Penny planted her feet.
And she waited.
"You again," Halson called, his eyes glittering. "How delightful. I take it you've come to avenge your boyfriend?"
Penny raised her sword. "Get down from your horse."
Unsurprisingly, Halson ignored her. "Embarrassing, really. He died so easily. And I normally like to play with my food."
"I said." Penny's smile was wicked. "Get down from your horse."
Halson skidded to a stop. He looked almost surprised as he slid down from the horse. There was something confused about his eyes, as if he'd walked into a room only to forget what he was doing there. Penny's smile grew. Magic radiated from her in waves, fueled by rage and adrenaline.
"Now raise your sword," Penny said.
Halson raised his weapon. Penny's smile was sugar over glass.
"Slit your throat," she ordered.
Halson inhaled sharply. The blade moved towards his throat, and Penny felt the magic purr its satisfaction, spurring him onwards—
"Your Holiness!" a voice cried.
A soldier barreled into her. Penny stumbled, her concentration breaking. The magic wavered for a second — only a second — but Halson snarled, shrugging off the golden strands as if they were nothing. Murder shone in his eyes as he stalked towards her.
"Penny!" Tristan cried.
He was sprinting across the battlefield, an explosive clutched in his hand. Owain was a step behind him. Something flashed across Halson's face. If Penny didn't know any better, she would have said it was something soft and vulnerable. The underbelly of a shark.
"Owain?" Halson asked.
Owain tipped his head. "Halson."
Penny looked between them incredulously. "You two know each other?"
"Ex-boyfriend," Owain provided.
"Gods." She wrinkled her nose. "Are romantic prospects really that slim in Faerie?"
Exasperation filled Owain's face. "It wasn't quite like that."
"I thought..." Halson's throat bobbed, and his eyes cut between Owain and Tristan. "You've changed sides."
"No." Owain stepped closer to Tristan. "I've always known where I stood."
Halson's face hardened. "Then you're more stupid than I thought." He turned to his soldiers, who hovered nearby. "Kill them all."
The men charged. Tristan threw an explosive, and the ground rocked. Penny tensed her knees for balance. But her gaze was locked on Halson, her heart pounding so fast that it was painful. She'd kill him today. Even if she died in the process.
"Come to me," Penny ordered.
Halson jerked forward. The emperor struggled against the magic, like a puppet writhing against strings, but Penny was stronger. More determined. His eyes were frozen blue lakes as he approached, reflecting a burning sun.
"You— filthy little—"
Penny smiled. "I hope you die screaming."
She reared back to strike. Halson tensed.
"No!"
A soldier grabbed her from behind. Penny swore, dispatching the soldier with an elbow to the throat, but it was too late; Halson was already on her. Her back struck the ground with bone-rattling force, knocking the air from her lungs. Halson dug a knee into her stomach. She could feel his rage and excitement thrumming inside her like a plucked guitar string.
"Feisty," Halson purred. "I wish we had more time, my darling." His eyes cut to Owain, who was struggling with a sunhound, and Penny had the feeling that the next sentence was for his benefit alone. "I'd like to have some fun with you before I kill you. But as it stands..."
Halson raised his sword.
Penny thrashed, but it was no use; Halson was heavier than her. Stronger. She was dimly aware of Tristan fighting towards her, of Owain calling her name, but it was pointless. They'd never reach her in time.
Penny squeezed her eyes shut.
Grayson, she thought. I'll find you.
A supernova of light exploded.
Penny opened her eyes just in time to see wildfire rip through the sky. Halson cursed, staggering back as heat blasted overhead. Black shapes soared like music notes against the parchment sky. Dragons, Penny realized dizzily; the sky was filled with dragons.
A shadow loomed over her.
She braced herself instinctively, scrabbling for her sword, and the figure held up her hands. "Easy. It's just me."
Penny blinked.
A young woman stood over her. Her silvery blonde hair was plaited, and she was dressed in a stern-looking military jacket. A purple mark pulsed on her forehead. But it was the glass leg, Penny thought, that was the real giveaway.
"Isolde," Penny croaked.
The other girl smiled. "I was worried I'd miss the party. But it seems like we're just getting started."