Chapter 2

Adrian had been instructed to find the Saint’s vessel—a young woman, twenty-two years old, with dark hair and blue-green eyes. The description had come from a high-ranking temple priestess who had come to the prince. The woman had said the vessel would have tattoos—a history and map of the dead Saint on her skin. She might try to hide her identity, but those markings, she wouldn’t be able to hide.

Her skin told the Saint’s story, her flesh would point the way.

So far, they hadn’t located the woman. But it was only a matter of time.

Any hope that the Golden Citadel had held for a reprieve from the death sentence that was the empire’s ever-conquering Horde had died as the gates fell inward and the fires took hold. If there was anyone else left alive in the city, they would know her, and they might give her up when the pain became unbearable and release was offered. If there was no one left, he would search every building, even as they burned and fell around him.

He refused to accept that she might have perished in the fire.

Prince Eine had offered riches beyond measure in exchange for the woman: promotion to the Black Tomeis, enough gold to last several lifetimes, and a personal favor from the prince himself. The favor, the ear of the prince, was the most prized. It would be something to hold tight in the face of the long months ahead and coming battles.

Anyone would welcome these rewards. Each man listening had been hungry, ready for the pale light of morning as the siege came to an end, so they would have the chance to enter the city and find the woman.

“What do we do when we find her?” a man asked, a stranger unknown to Adrian. The others in the crowd had turned to him, focusing hard eyes on Adrian, searching for any hint of deception.

“Bring her to me.”

The men had nodded, more than a hundred of them fanning out into the city as the gates came down. His own men, the Black Tomeis led by Revenant, were already gone, moving on Adrian’s private orders.

Find the woman as quickly and quietly as possible.

Make sure no one else did.

* * *

Adrian saw the woman before she saw him. Revenant marched her toward the group of waiting men, his face blank but eyes blazing, as the woman fought him. She pried at his fingers, working to loosen his grip, but she grimaced when he squeezed. She was singed and dirty, the hem of her crimson dress dark with blood and the long, loose sleeves torn. Her hair was a wild black halo around her pale face, bits of gold and jewels tangled in the mess.

This was the woman the prince wanted?

Adrian considered her, cataloging details, collecting what he might be able to use to his advantage later. She didn’t look like a woman of wealth and power. Or whatever it was she was supposed to be. She was bejeweled and wearing fine things, however damaged, but without an air of command. He would have passed over her in a crowd without a second glance, a forgettable woman in a sea of faces and nothing like what he’d pictured.

An oracle, priestess, and vessel of the Saint.

Her gaze landed on him finally—the only man on a horse in the square—and the shock of her anger sizzled between them. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth opened as if she planned to yell—yell for help or yell at him, he couldn’t be sure. But the directness of her expression and the fury in it changed everything. It transformed her face. The woman’s eyes were a vibrant, striking green. His breath caught as an arrow of desire pierced him, lodging in his chest—a dangerous surprise.

But the anger in her gaze shifted, eyes widening, skin going pale as she realized who she was being taken to. Understanding settled in her features, her knuckles white with pressure as she squeezed her hands into fists.

Monster.

She didn’t need to speak the word for him to hear it. It filled the air around them all. He saw it on her face, the moment of realization. A tall man on a black horse, wearing black armor, black gloves, with the bone-white skull of a monstrous wolf.

The Wolf.

The monster who wanted her.

Revenant jerked her to a halt several feet away, out of reach from his horse’s sharp bite. Nox shifted beneath him, turning to look at the pair who’d dared to come so close.

Adrian didn’t speak—waiting, watching the woman. She hadn’t looked at him again, her eyes elsewhere, searching for a way out. But there wasn’t one. Everywhere she looked, there was fire and death.

“The vessel.” Revenant tugged at her sleeve, pulling it back to reveal a tattoo. Black ink crawled up her arm and disappeared beneath the fabric at her shoulder.

She tried to pull free, twisting in Revenant’s grasp, but the man tightened his grip until she cried out and her knees buckled.

“Enough,” Adrian said.

His voice was soft, but every single man in the square turned their attention to the three standing together. He could feel their curiosity, even their bitterness at not being the ones to find the woman. But Adrian knew Revenant didn’t want or need favors from Prince Eine. Those gifts were wasted on such a creature.

Revenant’s brows lifted slightly at Adrian’s command. It was more emotion than the man generally showed, but he quickly smoothed his expression, easing his grip on the woman’s wrist.

“Are you the vessel?” Adrian asked, studying her.

She shook her head, glancing at him and away, searching for an escape. She was tense, poised to run, stubbornness plain in her features and the way she held herself. A flicker of humor shot through him. She was afraid, that was clear, but that she held on to her anger.

“Do you know who I am?”

She nodded once.

Adrian raised an eyebrow, waiting to see if she would say more. When she didn’t, he looked to Revenant.“Was anyone else with her?”

“Lane had her. I killed him.”

Adrian swore internally. Lane had crossed Revenant a month ago, leaving the man in a difficult position during a battle. Revenant had promised to repay him for that favor, and he’d finally had the opportunity. But that was something Adrian would address when there was no one else to overhear.

“Give her to me,” he said.

Revenant shoved the woman toward the horse. Nox snorted and stamped in warning at the sudden movement.

She caught her balance and flashed Revenant a glare. Her gaze came back to Adrian before shifting away, still searching for a way out.

Adrian held out a gloved hand, palm tingling, wondering if she’d bolt or stand her ground. He waited for her to accept his offer, but she silently refused. Nox sidestepped beneath him, uneasy with his rider’s sudden tension.

“You ride with me or them,” Adrian said.

The woman glanced at the men who’d been staring and then over her shoulder to where Revenant stood with that dead-flat expression he’d perfected. He bared his blackened teeth in a snarl, and the woman paled.

“You’re an animal to them. They will not hesitate to kill you.”

It was a lie. Anyone who touched this woman would die. But she didn’t need to know that.

“And you won’t?” she asked, meeting his gaze with a challenge.

Revenant stepped forward and shoved her once more, sending her stumbling into Adrian’s grasp. Before she could twist away or cry out, he had a hold of her, pulling her up into the saddle. He shifted, his arms a cage around her, as she settled on his lap. The scent of smoke and singed hair came with her, and below that, the copper stink of blood and fear. She sat ridged in an effort not to touch him, breathing heavily.

“Make sure there are no survivors,” Adrian said with a nod to Revenant and the others.

They brought their right fist to their hearts in acknowledgment and a salute as he turned Nox toward the main gate. The woman shifted, leaning forward as much as possible, slipping as the horse walked.

“Do you want to fall and be trampled?”

When she didn’t respond, he looped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his body. Even with clothes and armor between them, he felt her soft warmth, and it sent a shiver racing over him. Her hair brushed his face, the top of her head bumping his chin, as he urged Nox across the square. Adrian worked to ignore the feel of her against him, the way she trembled, her hands balled into fists.

He tilted his head to get a better look at her, catching a curve of her cheek and the sweep of thick dark lashes.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said.

She half turned to him—green eyes wary—her distaste a physical force. “I’m not stupid enough to trust a monster.”

There, she’d said it aloud. Her tone was as sharp as his had been soft—words cutting like broken glass flung at him with full force. It could not have sat so long between them without being given solid form.

He smiled grimly, a part of him pleased that he’d pulled a reaction from her—pleased with her anger.

An angry woman was easier to deal with than a sad one. He had no time for tears. But anger he understood. Anger he could handle. Sorrow, tears, the wailing of deep wounds was something he had wanted to avoid at all costs.

The woman in his arms would never give him her tears; he’d known it the moment their eyes met. Adrian could feel her making promises to herself, the frantic whirling of her mind and emotions. She would give him as little of herself as possible.

But he would take everything from her.

Just as he’d taken this city. Already, the fires had eaten so much of it. The death cries of the survivors had been silenced hours ago. There was no more clashing metal, no more shouts or pleas. There was no one left.

Those who had accepted Prince Eine’s terms had departed weeks ago, already moved on to live beneath the eaves of the Traveling City or at the farthest edges of the Empire of the White Snake. Those who had held out, remaining in the city because they thought the prince’s soft-spoken voice made him weak, were all dead.

Prince Eine might be soft-spoken, but the edge of his blade was sharp and his mind cruel. There would have been torture and mutilation before death, incredible pain and despair. Repayment for the insult their refusal had caused. But soothing his own emotions wasn’t the prince’s only goal. The stories of what happened spread and were another weapon against those who challenged his dreams of expanding the empire.

The woman jerked in his arms and gasped. There were bodies in the streets near the main gate. Blood pooled between cobblestones and on the flat pavers. The stink of gore fought to overpower the smoke, a foul scent that would cling to his clothes for the next several days.

“You did this.” Her voice was a harsh whisper, emotion choking her. “You killed them all.”

He remained silent, unable to and uninterested in denying it.

“You truly are a monster,” she hissed, twisting abruptly in his arms, wriggling until his hold slipped and she dropped to the cobblestones.

The horse lunged for her, teeth snapping, and Adrian snapped the reins in a warning. Nox quieted, but his ears were laid back in warning.

The woman scrambled away, panting and pushing awkwardly to her feet. She turned in a circle, taking in her surroundings and freezing as she looked out over the main road leading away from the Golden Citadel.