Page 39 of War Queen
“Please,” she begged him, like he had the power, like he could give the Bear back to her. But he didn’t, and he couldn’t. And it killed him.
A wail broke from her lips, a raw anguish that shook him to his soul. All the battles he’d fought, all the death he’d seen, but her cry—a long, keening wail—broke him. He’d never forget the sound.
Slowly, he eased out from behind the justice and laid him down gently.
She let out another sob and collapsed over him.
Soren waved out the remaining few soldiers. He stood and stretched his arm to the wall, leaning against it. He couldn’t draw in a breath. The ache of loss in his chest was suffocating. He moved to the edge of the stair, looking back at his weeping queen.
He didn’t know how he made it out. His legs felt like they might not hold him, but once outside the castle, he staggered through the carnage of the North. The weight of the air crushed him, but he turned his mind away from himself to someone more important. Soldiers called out to him, but he ignored them as he scanned the masses. He had to find him—where was he? A warrior trotted up to him, but Soren pushed him back, not hearing his words.
Where was he?
Then he saw him.
Although bloodstained and weary, Adrian’s face held a wide grin. “Victory!” the young bear bellowed. He looked across the soldiers as they cheered around him.
Soren lingered, letting him reap the joy, if only for a moment.
Adrian spotted him and lifted his sword in triumph.
Soren moved toward him, slowly. Then he stopped, and Adrian’s grin faded slightly. He pulled down the wrap from his face. Their stares locked.
The young bear stilled. “Where’s Alec?” he called.
Soren hesitated.
Adrian’s brows drew together. “Where’s Alec?” he asked again.
Faintly, Soren shook his head.
His face twisted. “Where’s Alec?” he asked more urgently. “Where is he?” Soren stepped toward him, but Adrian drew up his sword to halt him. “No. No! Where is he?” he demanded.
“Adrian.” His voice cracked. “He’s gone.”
Adrian bared his teeth as he shook his head. “No.” He shook his head again. “You’re lying. Where is he?” he raged in desperation.
Soren let out a ragged breath. “He’s gone.”
Adrian shook his head again, refusing his answer. “Alec!” he cried out as he staggered back. He turned and stumbled in a circle, looking around for his brother. His eyes desperately combed the soldiers around him. “Alec!”
But there would be no answer.
Adrian dropped his sword from his hand and wavered as he stopped. “Alec!”
Soren caught him and pulled him close. Adrian was a large man now, not easily embraced, but Soren held him.
“Alec!” Adrian screamed into him.
Soren held him until his screams gave way to sobs, and then he held him longer. His own tears fell as he hugged him tightly. It wasn’t right. The Bear should be the one alive—here. He had family, people who loved him, people who needed him. In that moment, Soren would have given anything to take his place. He held him tighter.
Adrian’s body shook as he sobbed in the courtyard of death.
A slight breeze rippled over the carnage of the North, carrying the smell of blood and victory. Mikael stared down at the fallen mercenary commander of the Holy Knights.
Pity—they truly were a magnificent army. He surveyed the city. So many good soldiers lost, and the loss of good soldiers saddened him, even when they weren’t his own. The mainway ran red with blood—blood of mercenaries, Northmen, and Kharavian warriors. But they’d taken back the North, and that was worth the cost.
He’d never stepped inside the kingdom of Mercia. Many times he’d imagined it, imagined the death-littered streets of the North that he’d hated for so long. But never like this. Never had he thought he’d fight to reclaim the throne for its queen—the woman he loved.
