Frozen Tides (Falling Kingdoms #4)(74)

Beside Jonas, Nic frantically scanned the circle of fire. “We have to get out of here,” he said.

Lys nodded, her expression grim. “There must be a way.”

“You’ve been assisting an immortal in her quest,” Kyan snarled at Jonas, pulling away from Lucia. “You wish to see me trapped again? Tortured by my eternal imprisonment so lowly mortals won’t need to fear my wrath?”

“I have no fight with you, whoever you are.” Jonas held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, feeling the heat of the fire grow more intense behind him. “Honestly. I didn’t know what she—”

“More lies!” Kyan thrust his hands out and, with a violent push, sent a blast of fire magic searing directly toward Jonas.

“No!” Lysandra screamed, and she shoved Jonas out of the way, knocking him to the ground. On her way down after him, she was struck in the heart by the spear of flames.

And then it disappeared.

She gasped and collapsed to her knees.

Jonas grabbed her, searching her for signs of damage. “Lys! Are you all right? Lys, please! Answer me!”

Her face was damp with perspiration, her breath coming in small, rattling gasps, but still she managed to grin up at him.

“You were in my way, you arse.”

A wave of both blind fury and pure relief overcame him, and Jonas smiled back at her. “Do you have any idea how much I love you, Lysandra Barbas?”

“What?” She blinked. “You love me?”

“Yes.”

“And what about Cleo?”

He grinned. “Cleo who?”

“Nicolo.” Lucia’s voice was quiet but firm as she interrupted the tender aftermath of Kyan’s rage. “Get Jonas away from her before it’s too late.”

Jonas glared up at her. “You and your friend need to leave. Now. Hear me? Come any closer and I swear I’ll kill both of you.”

All the fight that had been glimmering in Lucia’s eyes was gone, leaving only a sad, bleak expression. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I know you won’t believe me, but I’m sorry. Nicolo, do it now!”

Without a word, Nic grabbed Jonas and yanked him away from Lysandra.

Jonas tried to break free. “What are you doing? Let go of me!”

“Jonas?” Lys reached out toward him, a smile playing at her lips. “I love—”

Her sweet words were snapped into silence as a nest of flames burst up and blossomed from her chest, flowing over every inch of her body like lava.

“No!” Jonas shoved Nic away and scrambled to get to Lysandra, whose form had been transformed in an instant into a blazing column of amber fire.

The flames rose up and up, and with a violent lick they shifted from deep orange and amber to bright blue—the same shade as Kyan’s eyes.

The sound of Lysandra’s screams sliced through Jonas’s very soul, and in one heartbreaking instant, the flames themselves shattered like glass, sending shards of blue crystal flying and falling all around them.

Leaving nothing behind.

With a breathless wail, Jonas crumpled in a hard heap to the ground, staring at the empty space where Lysandra had been only moments ago.

He stayed like that, motionless, tears burning in his eyes, for some time, and he didn’t notice when the circle of fire disappeared, or watch as Lucia and Kyan left the abandoned market, leaving Jonas and Nic there all alone.





CHAPTER 19


FELIX

KRAESHIA

Felix woke up with the urgent knowledge that something was terribly wrong. If only he had any idea what it was.

He tried to ignore it, though, because life had never been better for him. He’d earned back King Gaius’s trust. He’d traveled beyond the shores of Mytica for the first time ever, to the beautiful empire of Kraeshia. And a gorgeous princess had invited him to share her bed for not one, but seven nights.

Seven. In a row.

Felix’s life had become so shiny and bright, so why did everything suddenly feel so damningly dark?

He crawled out of Princess Amara’s huge feather bed, draped with green silks and diaphanous veils of pale gold, and hastily got dressed.

His stomach grumbled. Perhaps he could attribute this dark feeling to hunger—ever since his arrival in Kraeshia, he’d consumed too many fruits and vegetables and not nearly enough red meat.

“Felix, my pretty beast . . .” Amara said sleepily. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he sat on the side of the bed to put on his boots. “Leaving me so soon?”

“Duty calls.”

She slid her hands down his bare chest. “But I don’t want you to go yet.”

“The king might disagree.”

“Let him.” Amara pulled his face to hers and kissed him. “Who cares what the king thinks, anyway?”

“Well, me for one. I work for him. And he’s very strict.”

“Leave him and work for me.”

“And be what? One of your lowly manservants?” He was surprised by the amount of poison in his voice. Where had that come from?

He knew theirs wasn’t a relationship with any potential or future. Amara was a princess with a large appetite and a short attention span—nearly as short as his own. But of course he wasn’t complaining. Amara was beautiful. Willing. Enthusiastic. Double-jointed.