Page 9 of The Throne's Undoing

The king did not react because he already knew about the creatures beneath the Frenzian temple.

Myra peered at him as he dragged her through the tunnels in the opposite direction from which they had come. "The creatures in the cell--" she began, but the king interrupted before she could continue.

"The Frenzians will create more of them."

"Create? Theycreatedthem?" Myra asked in horror.

The king scoffed. "Of course. How else would they exist?" he retorted.

Myra's mouth hung open in shock. "They're...they're monsters."

His lips curled into a cruel smile. "Yes, they're magnificent, aren't they?"

But Myra knew then that they were referring to two different things. While the king admired the rabid creatures living in captivity, Myra couldn't help but feel immense empathy for them--for the pain they must have undergone and the cruelty they faced. Only a portion of it lingered in the tunnel, dampening it.

The creatures within the cells were not the monsters; the Frenzians were. The beasts were simply a result of the Frenzians' monstrosity.

As their anguish polluted the air, crawled across her skin, and seeped into her pores, Myra could do nothing but put up her walls and cut off her ability to identify the emotions as best she could. Yet, even as they reached a door at the end of the tunnel and Domitius yanked it open, tossing Myra over the threshold, emotions continued to linger as if she had crawled through a spiderweb and the sticky threads still clung to her flesh.

Myra blinked at the light streaming in from the windows high above.

The tunnel had led them back to the castle, where guards were running across the halls in a frenzy.

King Domitius shouted at the nearest guard, "You, stop!"

The guard jerked to a halt, startled as his eyes bounced from Domitius to Myra. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing. "We've been looking everywhere for you. They just got the doors of the temple open not too long ago. We found King Rian injured from the fray but could not find you nor the princess."

The guard looked at Myra again. He glanced at her blonde hair, a stark contrast to Kallie's brunette waves, and turned back to the king with a furrowed brow. "Have you...have you seen the princess, Your Majesty?"

Domitius merely shook his head. "Sound the alarm and send all soldiers to the streets. My daughter, King Rian's bride, has been taken again."

Chapter 3

GRAESON

Somewhere in the village,a bell rang loud and piercing--a warning for the flames licking at the sky. The people in the streets picked up their pace, bumping into each other as names were shouted in an attempt for friends and family to locate one another.

Panic rang in every voice, in every fearful, wide-eyed gaze as heads swiveled over the crowd. Mothers and fathers ushered children forward, some picking up the children who were too small to keep up as they raced through the streets.

The wedding was said to be the largest gathering of Vaneria since blood poured down the city during the Great War. And for once, Graeson was thankful for the throng filling the road. To navigate the streets more easily while attracting less attention, they split into three groups: Graeson with Terin and Kalisandre, Dani with Emmett and Sylvia, and Ellie with Medenia.

All around them, people ran past, shoving one another as everyone raced to escape the fire and smoke. Usually, Graeson would have despised weaving between the panicked people, their bodies pressing against his, their heat suffocating him and ringing around his neck as the world grew smaller and smaller.

But at that moment, Graeson was thankful for the chaos pressing in on him from all sides. Their clothes, torn and burned from the kiss of the flames, which would have turned heads in any other scenario, blended with the rest of the disheveled crowd.

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Graeson scanned the endless sea of people, his eyes sweeping over the faces rushing past. Up ahead, the sun hit metal, catching his attention.

Several soldiers walked against the flow of the crowd, their gazes sweeping across the pedestrians with an intense focus that had Graeson clenching his jaw. They tugged every woman that neared them to a stop. With rough hands, they yanked the women's faces up, turning them side-to-side. When they noted the eyes were too brown, the hair too light, the features not quite right, they moved to the next one.

While Kalisandre might have shed the bustling white gown, the change of clothes would only give a guard a momentary pause. If they were familiar with her, she would be recognized quickly. Graeson held back a curse.

Terin inched closer to Graeson as they weaved between the clusters of people and whispered, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Graeson's palms grew slick with sweat.

They cannot have her,the god inside growled.

As if Graeson would let them.