Chapter 24

Chapter 24

“ I f you take a single step closer to her, Armature, then these gardens will become your grave.”

The cool tip of metal grazed Andrian’s throat. He recognized the voice. It was one he’d grown up with, one who’d been there to offer him steadfast companionship after all the worst moments of his life. A voice he knew better than even his brother by blood.

“Sebastian, it’s me.” He swallowed. “Please.”

A wave struck him, a washing glow of panic and confusion and fear and joy. He nearly stumbled, gasping, before he locked on a pair of glowing forest green eyes.

That wave … it wasn’t coming from him. It belonged to her.

Gods, he could feel her. He could feel everything. He didn’t know if she was aware of how vibrant this connection between them was, or if she was accustomed to it. If this was how every bond felt.

That thought made him grind his teeth, a foreign feeling of jealousy washing through him with a ferocity that terrified him. He momentarily forgot the dagger at his throat, clawing for some semblance of his self-control.

“Mariah,” he whispered, lurching for her.

Her flinch as he moved for her tore him apart with more confusion than any piece of steel ever could.

Was she … afraid of him?

That dagger bit into his skin. “If you think I won’t do it, then you are poorly mistaken.”

Andrian almost growled. Almost swung, lashing out with shadows and limbs.

Until a choking sob shattered his world. More hope and grief crashed into him, drowning him out.

“Sebastian?” Mariah’s voice was a soft shudder, thick and clouded with all the same emotions he felt.

Or … that she felt. It had all become the same to Andrian, so much raging magic surrounding him that he wasn’t sure where he ended, and she began.

The dagger lifted from his neck, just a touch. “Yes. We’re here, My Queen. We’re getting you out.”

Mariah trembled again, before rushing forward. Andrian’s heart leaped with joy?—

—Until she brushed past him and leapt into Sebastian’s open embrace. The dagger finally left his throat, and Andrian turned as Sebastian clutched Mariah to him, face burrowed in her neck.

“We’re here,” he repeated. “It’s us.”

Andrian gritted his teeth at Sebastian’s crooning words.

Mariah sniffed and stepped back, staring up at Sebastian. “Us?’”

The wind shifted as five more shapes melted from the shadows of the gardens, all armed to the teeth, faces wearing mixed expressions of exuberant joy … and terrible rage.

The latter seemed to be mostly directed at him. He shifted his stance, uneasy as they circled him. He knew these men but did not know the way they stared at him.

Like he was an enemy.

Mariah, though, didn’t seem to notice. She sobbed again, before launching herself at Feran, Drystan, and Trefor. She turned finally to Matheo, tears tracking down her cheeks, and was about to wrap her arms around him when she halted.

A sixth shape had melted from the moonlit shadows. Instinct alone sent Andrian lurching forward, grasping for Mariah’s hand. He ignored the hissed warnings from the other Armature, just as he shoved back the sting as she flinched away from him again.

It was a huge cat, black as the night around them, stalking into the aura of Mariah’s glowing skin. Its hazel eyes gleamed as bright as the wicked claws peeking from its paws, its glistening fangs flashing as its maw lifted into a snarl.

Matheo cast a glance at the giant cat before turning back to Mariah and Andrian, a grin on his face. “Relax,” he said, much too calmly as the predator stalked closer, glowing eyes evaluating its prey.

“Relax? That’s a fucking panther ,” Mariah whispered, words strained and scratched with fear.

Andrian had never heard terror in her voice like that.

Matheo hadn’t, either, because he paused as well, eyes going wide as his smile softened. “Yes, but it’s also a friend. She’ll explain when we get out of here, but it seems there’s more to our old friends from Kreah than they first let on.”

Kreah? Andrian gaped at Matheo before looking again at the panther. It had dropped the snarl, sitting back on its haunches as its tail swished across the pebbled garden path.

What the actual fuck was going on?

“We can chat and catch up about everything later. It’s been a long nine weeks. We need to leave.” Sebastian’s voice was low and rough, and the others shifted into movement. “It’s way too open out here. Which … how did you even get out here, Mariah?”

But Andrian’s mind had caught on to Sebastian’s earlier words. He whirled to Sebastian before Mariah could answer.

“Did you just say nine weeks ?”

He didn’t care about Sebastian’s frustrated curse at him. Didn’t care about the others circling them, trying to herd them into shelter. His mind was blank as he turned to Mariah.

She glanced at him once, quickly, before shuttering her stare and stepping away. Letting herself get swept up by Sebastian and Drystan and that massive black cat watching them with unnerving alertness.

He made himself look around him. At where they were. Made himself look at her .

He’d noticed the gardens after he’d first slammed into consciousness, the bond freshly formed and roaring between them. But in the haze, he’d only focused on Mariah’s presence, on the bridge now thrumming between their souls. He hadn’t looked closely at her appearance, or at the castle rising out of the gardens.

He did now, though.

She wore a pale pink dress, short and brushing her thighs, the tulle dirty and torn. Her long, dark hair hung in limp tangled knots down her back, and her skin was too pale, too dirty. Its golden glow was gone, replaced by a sickly sheen.

When she looked at him again over her shoulder, he noticed how gaunt her face was. How frail she was. Mariah had always been a force of nature, formidable in both a ballgown and in the training ring.

Now, she just looked … weak. Starved. Broken .

“Yes, Andrian,” she said, voice still muted. “It’s been nine weeks. Nine weeks, I—we have been trapped here.”

He was paralyzed, rooted to the ground, blocks of ice thick around his feet. “I don’t remember any of it.”

An emotion filled her face—not quite sadness, or pity. But true, raw heartbreak.

“I know.”

A rustling across the gardens, where the dark castle pierced the sky, shattered the moment. A heartbeat later, Quentin burst into view, panting lightly as his red hair was in tossed disarray. His expression lit up when he saw Mariah, and he shoved past Drystan and Sebastian to pick her up in another great hug.

Quentin set her back down as quickly as he’d raced in, shooting a look at the rest of them, eyes lingering for a moment too long on Andrian with shock, anger, and distrust. “I think word is spreading about a commotion in the gardens. We need to get the fuck out of here. Now .”

“I know.” Sebastian nodded and glanced at Mariah. He then shifted to Andrian, expression hardening as his mouth opened to say something else.

“Sebastian, no.” Mariah reached out a hand, resting it on his arm. “Stop. He’s coming with us. I’ll explain everything when we’re out, I promise. But I was not the only one held prisoner in this place.”

Sebastian stood still as a statue for a few heavy heartbeats, his stare never breaking from Andrian’s, before he nodded. “As you wish.” He twisted on his heel, about to lead them away from the castle and to the dark safety of the trees beyond.

“Is … is someone there?”

Everyone froze as the faint, feminine voice rang across the quiet gardens.

“ Shit ,” Quentin whispered. “We need to move.”

“No, wait.” Mariah raised a steadying hand.

Andrian watched them all, expression and mind vacant.

Nine weeks. Nine weeks, missing from memory, trapped in a black bit of despair and unfamiliar darkness.

Mariah stepped around him, peering into the shadows. Hesitancy raced from her through their fresh, aching bond.

“Anniliese?” she called softly into the dimness.

A dark-haired woman stepped out from around a willow tree, dressed in a fine jade robe, face powdered and hair pressed.

A Royal. Somewhere, in a far distant memory, Andrian recognized her. Some spoiled daughter of another lord he’d met once or twice.

“What … what is this?” The girl’s voice was high-pitched and clearly terrified, eyes widening as she observed the group of men bearing more weapons than was ever reasonable.

The panther lurking behind Matheo certainly didn’t help.

“Anniliese,” Mariah repeated, this time far gentler than Andrian would’ve ever expected. “We’re leaving. Now. You should come with us.”

The girl—Anniliese—cast them all a wild glance. “Leaving? To where?”

“Verith,” Drystan answered quickly, steady voice like an anchor.

Anniliese shook her head. “You’ll never make it. They’ll catch you.”

“Not if we move now. We will make it.” Mariah’s voice trembled, just once, but she held her head high. Andrian could feel her fear but noticed how she refused to let it touch her body.

Anniliese’s fingers toyed with a silk ribbon on her robe. “I … I cannot go with you. I belong here, with my father.” She turned to Mariah, pinning her with a stare that made Andrian’s hackles rise.

“I couldn’t sleep tonight and thought I would take a walk through the gardens to calm my head. I had been thinking about what you said, and maybe it’s fate we met again.” She drew in a breath. “I still do not accept you. I likely never will. But I understand what you told me, and I believe you. You can’t give up your crown, even if you wanted to. Even if I still believe the Goddess made the wrong choice.”

Drystan loosened a low growl, and Quentin palmed his knives. Andrian’s shadows twitched around his fingers, but a raised hand from Mariah had them all falling still.

“Will you turn us in, then? Will you alert the guards, or will you let us go?” Mariah was calmer than a summer’s day, but a hidden danger lurked beneath her words. Andrian shifted and knew his brothers did the same.

They had no desire to harm an unarmed woman, but they would do what they must to protect their queen.

Anniliese turned to them again, a swallow traveling down the thin column of her throat. Her gaze lingered on Andrian for a moment, a darkness shuttering behind her light brown eyes. She took another shaky inhale and looked back at Mariah.

“No. I won’t. I will be committing treason to my host, but … I won’t tell them you’ve gone, or that I saw you.”

Mariah cocked her head as if studying the young woman.

Sebastian fidgeted nervously beside her. “Mariah?—"

“Thank you, Lady Anniliese,” Mariah said and turned on her heel. She pushed back Sebastian, moving to Drystan and Quentin’s side before she paused and glanced once more over her shoulder.

“I understand why you feel you must stay. But stop letting these men run your life as if it wasn’t your own. You know, deep down, that isn’t what you want.”

Anniliese blinked, something like shame and surprise flashing across her face, before nodding once and turning with a twirl to her skirts, walking away to the castle.

The rest of them turned to face Mariah, who stood at their center. The star around which they orbited, the anchor holding them to earth. She had her face turned up to the sky, and Sebastian shifted, before darting a burning glare at Andrian.

He searched his mind, again, and was met only by blackness.

His queen might have stood her ground for him, but he feared his fellow Armature would be far harder to convince.

Mariah sighed, dropping her eyes from the sky. She turned to the forest, to the freedom and hope that awaited them there.

“Let’s go home, Armature.”