Korac liked the sound of his steel-toed motorcycle boots on the sandstone walkway. He casually draped his Kevlar jacket over one shoulder. As he rounded a corner, two of his men, already on their knees, bowed their heads to him.

The authority.

The respect.

Not long ago, about a hundred thousand years or so, this was all Korac had needed, all he craved. Now? His muscles twitched under his skin in anticipation. This evening was it. He would finally have her.

But first, this little errand.

Korac turned the last corner to the front entry. His chest swelled with pride at the sight of his soldiers standing at attention, filled with anticipation of their own. It wasn’t every day that a common warrior met a begotten Prince of legend, nor the tiny human he’d trained to bring down their army. Dressed in their platinum armor over black tunics, Korac inspected the nearest one’s posture. Coiled, spring-loaded to attack on command with their specially commissioned serrated blades. Perfect.

Said spoiled Prince sent advanced notice with an ETA. How courteous.

Korac checked his Cartier. Any minute now. With a minute or two to spare, he reflected on the circumstances of this meeting. This entire situation was fucked. It had been eight thousand years since his last encounter with his best friend, his King’s brother, his—

Right on time. The pair stepped into the ungated entry. Who needed a gate with all these teeth?

From this distance, Rayne made for an impressive sight at first glance. The sight of Xelan lanced Korac through the heart. There was too much history. Too much loss.

The schism between their two sides was far too broad to reunite. So many questions burdened Korac’s thoughts. Why choose humans over Cinder? Why stay behind on Earth? Why betray Nox, knowing what his wrath was like?

Rage set Korac on fire.

Rayne and Xelan took a step into the procession aisle lined with Korac’s sentinels.

Korac announced, “The Traitor Prince can step no further. You leave General Callahan with me.”

“The hell I will!” Xelan took a few steps forward, and the men surrounding him drew their swords.

“Leave her,” Korac repeated. “Her safety is guaranteed.” As much as one impressionable young woman was safe with Nox. Best to add, “Nothing will occur outside her consent.”

With sharp, Icarean eyes, Korac watched Xelan seethe. Rayne approached her guardian with a gentle reach for his arm. Across the distance, Korac heard her say, “He won’t make a martyr out of me. Remember?”

True.

Xelan shook his head. “There are worse things he can do than kill you.”

More true.

The sad smile Rayne gave Xelan educated Korac on the depth of their relationship. Deeper than a student? More like a ward. She said, “I’ve got to do this on my own. You’ll be here for me when it’s over.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Each of Xelan’s strained muscles unwound slowly with caution. Korac’s men retreated, their blades in kind.

Rayne announced, “I’m going, now.” She kept her eyes locked with Xelan’s for the first few steps. He broke contact first and stared at the sand beneath his feet. Paternal.

Rayne approached Korac with terror in her eyes, and optimism in her black smile. Talk about conflicted.

In greeting, Korac nodded to her. “General.” He respected titles, and he treated her no differently, even if she were far too inexperienced to earn it.

“Take my jacket,” Rayne ordered.

Korac clenched his jaw. How did this girl walk around with balls this—

Rayne unfastened the single sleeve and caught it as it slipped from her good arm. Then something extraordinary happened.

Korac’s men, every single one of them, fell to one knee and held up a fist in tribute. The automatic, coordinated movement cascaded in a flurry of robes and knees pounding stone.

Korac narrowed his eyes at her and said, “Turn around.”

Rayne gave him her back, and he couldn’t contain the sharp intake of breath. Elden’s Verse. On her back. At the end of the aisle, Xelan glowed and grinned with pride. Well, fuck them both. It won’t survive the nacre soft tissue repair system.

By the time Rayne turned back around, Korac’s anger had returned. Impressive sprite. He said, “Nice tattoo. Did you know that would happen?”

Rayne admitted, “No, but I do now.” Then she brushed by him down the pathway.

Begrudgingly, Korac acknowledged the dress was gorgeous. It was a real shame Nox planned to shred it into pieces. Aloud, he said, “An Icarus dressed you.” It was the closest to a compliment he’d pay her.

“What makes you say that?”

Korac overtook Rayne at this point to lead the way up the seven floors of rough-hewn stairs. He said, “The devil’s in the details, and Icari love details. Was it Lucas? I know it wasn’t that overgrown rat, Caedes.”

No response.

Fine. Lucas.

Korac offered half-heartedly, “I’m supposed to ask if you want any food, but I doubt you’d take it from me.” The barest of glances behind him left Korac smirking. The poor thing was fighting not to stare at his leather-clad ass as they climbed up the tower.

“Wouldn’t give you the opportunity to eliminate your competition,” Rayne jabbed

For the love of insanity—

Korac whirled on her just outside the observatory. “You really are a lunatic if you think you still pose any competition.”

Rayne glared at him and hissed, “This lunatic holds the object of your obsession in her arms every night.”

Damn. The sprite had fangs. “I do envy you that.” Korac’s eyes darkened into a storm. “But tonight, while you’re risking Sagan’s life with King Nox, I’ll work to ensure her safety.”

“What are you talking about?” Rayne scoffed, her eyes filled with blue electricity.

Korac said, “You coming here to seduce his majesty. Playing the same tired old hand your ancestor did. But she underestimated him. The manipulator became the manipulated. You’ll suffer the same fate.” He turned back and carried on with his errand of delivering her to the boss.

Rayne growled, “I’m here to keep people from dying, and to give Nox an actual chance to negotiate this peace. I am nothing like Celindria. I want nothing to do with her.”

“Do you always dress like that when negotiating peace?” Rayne’s pale skin flushed red. Although Korac reveled in it, the topic made him scowl. “Let’s hope you’re nothing like her. She was an intrusive bitch.”

“As much as it pains me to say it, that’s two things we can agree on.”

“Two?” Korac considered Rayne with a smirk playing on his lips.

She stated the next as if it were obvious, “Sagan’s the most amazing person in the universe, and Celindria deserves to rot in hell.”

Korac’s grin broadened, and some warmth calmed the storm raging inside. The next words he spoke genuinely and not very often, “Another time and place, I think we could have been friends.” Leaving her mouth gaping, he opened the double doors with a flourish.

Korac allowed her the time to appreciate the grand space. Glass ceiling, a glass exterior wall, the rest lined in shelves brimming with books, and beyond all that the telescope. The expansive night sky littered with diamonds above illuminated the room, aided by soft lanterns. Rayne shrank half an inch when her stilettos hit the lush carpet.

The observatory, or officer’s retreat, was the rose of the Desert Fortress. Korac had designed it himself. As a surprise for—Well, anyway, Nox hated it. He preferred the caverns below, but both of them assumed the sprite might enjoy this space more.

Speak of the devil.

Nox turned away from the floor to ceiling window to admire his date. “Yes, let’s talk of friendships.”