Chapter 114 Hundred and nineteen
“Let them in,” Sienna said, her voice low as she watched the line of trembling figures approach the camp gates. The torches flickered in the wind, throwing long shadows across the stone path, and for a single breath the night felt too still, too controlled, as though the darkness itself was holding something back. Her guards glanced at one another warily, waiting for the smallest shift in her expression, but she kept her posture steady, her face unreadable. “They’re refugees. We don’t turn them away.”
“Refugees don’t walk this clean, my Queen,” Eamon murmured under his breath. “And they don’t smell of mint and steel.”
Sienna didn’t look at him. “We help them.”
One of the women at the front collapsed to her knees, sobbing loudly as she reached both hands toward Sienna. “Please,” she gasped. “They burned our homes. They, they took our children. We have nowhere else to go.”
Sienna moved closer, the silver embroidery of her cloak catching the dim light. “You’ll be safe here,” she said gently. “No one harms you under my watch.”
The woman bowed her head deeply, shoulders shaking. “Bless you, Queen Sienna. Bless your kindness.”
But the moment Sienna’s fingers brushed the woman’s shoulder, the sobs stopped too abruptly. The body stilled. The air around them tightened like a noose, and Eamon’s hand flew to his blade.
Sienna’s heart slammed once before she whispered, “Eamon, ”
Too late.
The woman’s hands snapped upward, clawed fingers slicing through the air. A surge of cold power rushed at Sienna, but Eamon tackled her aside as a hidden blade tore through the space her chest had been. Screams exploded across the courtyard as several “refugees” shed their rags, revealing matching black marks over their throats, Renna’s symbol for death-bound loyalty.
“Assassins!” Eamon roared as steel clashed behind him. “Protect the Queen!”
Chaos erupted. Wolves leaped forward, others shifted mid-run, their bones cracking under the strain. Sienna pushed herself to her feet, breath ragged, pulse thundering in her ears. Shadows jumped around her as the assassins moved with unnatural sharpness, their faces blank, their eyes void of anything but obedience.
A man charged at her with two curved daggers, his movements precise, trained, graceful. “For Renna,” he hissed as he swung.
Sienna stepped back, feeling her magic stir brutally under her skin. “You don’t belong here,” she said, her voice shaking with fury. “Leave.”
But the assassin didn’t slow. Sienna raised her palm, and silver light burst from her hand, a rush so powerful she felt the stone beneath her tremble. The man flew back, hitting the far wall with a sickening thud that silenced everything around them for a moment.
Eamon grabbed her arm. “You shouldn’t have exposed your power. They’ll send more when they realize, ”
“They already know,” she whispered, her gaze searching the courtyard as more bodies collapsed, some enemies, some her own.
A young guard stumbled toward her, clutching a wound on his side. “My Queen, behind you!”
Sienna spun just as another assassin lunged from the shadows, his blade inches from her spine. Eamon shot past her, slamming his sword through the attacker’s chest, but before he could pull it free, a second man grabbed him from behind, dragging him down in a violent struggle.
“Eamon!” Sienna cried, taking a step toward him.
“Go!” he shouted, kicking his attacker off long enough to force himself to his feet. “Protect yourself!”
An explosion of light burst to her left, illuminating the scene. Her elite guards joined the fight, but the assassins were unnervingly prepared. They moved in tight, coordinated strikes, going straight for the heart of her inner circle.
And that’s when Sienna saw what Renna had planned.
Every assassin wasn’t attacking her.
They were targeting her closest people, her anchors, her stability, her support.
Renna wasn’t trying to kill Sienna.
Renna was trying to hollow her out.
Sienna’s eyes widened as Therin, her strategist, took a blade to the throat. His body fell silently, eyes wide in disbelief. Cassia, her scout, collapsed with three knives in her back. Two more guards were cornered, overwhelmed before they could even shift.
“No,” Sienna breathed, horror clawing up her spine. “Stop, stop, don’t, ”
She ran forward, her vision blurring with tears and fury, power spiraling violently beneath her skin. Eamon grabbed her arm, his chest heaving, clothes torn and stained. “You can’t go in there, Sienna,” he said in a harsh whisper. “They were sent to make you break.”
“They’re killing my people,” she whispered.
“And you running into their circle will only finish Renna’s victory.”
Another cry tore through the courtyard. Sienna flinched at the sound, sharp, final, unforgettable. She saw the assassin responsible standing over another fallen guard, wiping blood from a silver dagger, eyes lifted toward her with a cold, deliberate smile.
“Queen Sienna,” he called, tilting his head mockingly. “Your mercy is adorable. Truly.”
Her blood boiled. “You don’t get to speak my name.”
“Then let me speak hers,” he said. “Renna sends her love.”
Sienna stepped forward, her voice trembling with contained rage. “You think this will break me?”
The man bowed slightly. “We’re not here to break you. Just to remind you of what you stand to lose.”
He lunged again, straight for Eamon this time.
Sienna’s magic flared instinctively, a storm of silver force exploding from her in a violent ring. Every assassin within the blast radius was thrown back with bone-crushing force. The walls cracked. The torches blew out. The ground trembled under her feet as the magic surged uncontrolled through her veins.
“Eamon, move!” she screamed, but the storm had already taken everything with it, stone, air, bodies, screams.
When the force died, silence swallowed the courtyard.
Sienna dropped to her knees, shaking, gasping for air as the silver light faded around her fingers. Eamon stumbled forward, grabbing her shoulders with both hands, his voice tight and breathless. “Are you alright?”
“No,” she whispered hoarsely. “No, I’m not.”
Around them lay bodies, enemy and loyalist alike, scattered in the quiet aftermath. Smoke drifted through the air. Blood darkened the stone. And in that instant, Sienna felt something inside her crack in a way she couldn’t hide.
“They were my people,” she whispered. “My circle. My strength. Renna took them from me.”
Eamon clenched his jaw. “Renna wants you isolated. That’s how she fights.”
“She thinks I’ll break.”
“She hopes you will.”
Sienna pushed herself up slowly, standing among the ruins of what had once been her closest allies. She swallowed hard, wiping the back of her hand across her cheek, her voice steadying even as it trembled. “Send word,” she said quietly. “The council will answer for this.”
“And Renna?” Eamon asked.
Sienna lifted her gaze, something cold and sharp settling behind her eyes. “Renna will learn what a real Queen looks like when she stops holding back.”
But before Eamon could respond, a noise rose from the edge of the courtyard, a low groan, followed by a shifting of rubble. Both of them turned sharply, their bodies tensing, their senses stretching into the shadows.
Someone else was still alive.
And they weren’t alone.