King's Cage

I don’t know where I’m going, but Corvium is easy to navigate. And the core is self-explanatory. The city is orderly, well planned, a giant gear. I understand that. My feet slam against the pavement, propelling me through the outer ward. On my left, the high walls of Corvium scrape at the sky. To the right, barracks, offices, training facilities pile against the second ring of granite walls. I have to find the next gate, start working inward. My crimson scarf is camouflage enough. I look like Scarlet Guard. I could be Scarlet Guard. The Red soldiers let me run, too distracted or too excited or too busy to care about another wayward rebel tearing through their midst. They’ve overthrown their masters. I’m as good as invisible to them.

But not to His Bleeding Royal Highness, Tiberias Calore.

He grabs my arm, forcing me to spin. If not for my silence pulsing around us, I know he would be on fire. The prince is smart, using our momentum to toss me back—and keep himself out of my deadly hands.

“Cameron!” he shouts, one hand outstretched. His fingers flicker, the flames on them gasping for air. When he takes another step back, planting himself firmly in my path, they blaze stronger, licking up to his elbow. His armor is back on. Interlocking plates of leather and steel thicken his silhouette. “Cameron, you’ll die if you go in the tower alone. They’ll rip you apart.”

“What do you care?” I snarl back. My bones lock, joints tightening, and I push a bit more. The silence reaches him. His fire gutters and his throat bobs. He feels it. I’m hurting him. Hold it. Remember your constant. Not too much, not too little. I push a bit more and he takes another step back, another step in the direction I must go. The second gate taunts me from over his shoulder. “I’m here for one reason.” I don’t want to fight him. I just want him to stand aside. “I’m not letting your people kill him.”

“I know!” he growls back, his voice guttural. I wonder if all of his fire kind have eyes like his. Eyes that burn and smolder. “I know you’re going in there. So would I if—so would I.”

“Then let me go.”

He sets his jaw, a picture of determination. A mountain. Even now, in burned clothes, bruised, his body a wreck and his mind a ruin, he looks like a king. Cal is exactly the kind of person who will never kneel. It’s not in him. He was not made that way.

But I’ve been broken too many times to break again.

“Cal, let me go. Let me get him.” It sounds like begging.

This time he steps forward. And the flames on his fingers turn blue, so hot they singe the air. Still they waver before my ability, fighting to breathe, fighting to burn. I could snuff them out if I wanted to. I could seize all that he is and tear him apart, kill him, feel every centimeter of him die. Part of me wants to. A foolish part, ruled by anger and rage and blind vengeance. I let it fuel my ability, let it make me strong, but I don’t let it control me. Just as Sara taught. It’s a thin line to walk.

His eyes narrow, as if he knows what I’m thinking. So I’m surprised when he says the words. I almost don’t hear them over the sound of my hammering heart.

“Let me help.”

Before the Scarlet Guard, I used to think allies operated on exactly the same page. Machines in tandem, working toward the same goal. How naive of me. Cal and I are seemingly on the same side, but we absolutely do not want the same thing.

He’s open with his plan. Detailing it fully. Enough for me to realize how he intends to use my rage, use my brother, to fulfill his own ends. Distract the guards, get into the core tower, use your silence as a shield, and make the Silvers hand over their hostages in exchange for freedom. Julian will open the gates; I’ll escort them myself. No bloodshed. No more siege. Corvium will be entirely ours.

A good plan. Except the Silver garrison will go free, released to rejoin Maven’s army.

I grew up in a slum, but I’m not stupid. And I’m certainly not some moon-eyed girl about to swoon over Cal’s angled jaw and crooked smile either. His charm has its limits. He’s used to bewitching Barrow, not me.

If only the prince had a bit more edge. Cal is too softhearted for his own good. He won’t leave the Silver soldiers to the Colonel’s nonexistent mercy, even if the only alternative is letting them go just to fight us again.

“How long do you need?” I ask. Lying to his face isn’t difficult. Not when I know he’s trying to trick me too.

He grins. He thinks he’s won me over. Perfect. “A few hours to get my ducks in a row. Julian, Sara—”

“Fine. I’ll be at the outer barracks when you’re ready.” I turn away, forcing an oh-so-thoughtful stare into the distance. The wind picks up, stirring my braids. It feels warmer, not because of Cal, but from the sun. Spring will be here eventually. “Need to clear my head.”

The prince nods in understanding. He claps a fiery hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. In reply, I force a smile that feels more like a grimace. As soon as I turn my back, I let it drop. He stays behind, his eyes burning holes into my back until the gentle curve of the ring wall obstructs me from view. Despite the rising temperature, a shiver trembles down my spine. I can’t let Cal do this. But I’m not going to let Morrey spend one more second in that tower.

Up ahead, Farley marches in my direction, moving as fast as her body will allow. Her face darkens when she spots me, her brow furrowing so intensely her entire face turns beet red. It makes the pearly white scar at the side of her mouth stand out worse than usual. All in all, an intimidating sight.