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I was standing on the edge of a battlefield. My gold armor was stained with blood, the black jade hilt of my sword in my grasp. Shouts rang out, blades clashing all around, magic surging through the air. The Wuxin were fighting against us, hate curling inside me at the sight of them. What did they want? Chaos. Suffering. They thrived on it.
A broad-shouldered warrior in a gold helmet battled the creatures. Beside him was Queen Caihong—my mother—the recognition twinged, still edged with the unfamiliar. Wuxin soldiers surrounded the pair, isolating them from their own. Was it a trap? I ran toward them—Zhangwei rushing to join me, his sword in his hand. Just ahead, a hooded warrior raised his arms, greenish lights crackling between his palms. The air thickened, rife with ominous energy. What power was this? I hurled my sword at the Wuxin just as Zhangwei released a bolt of fire—but they rebounded against an unseen shield. The Wuxin did not look our way, focused instead on his prey: my mother. As I shouted a warning, he hurled the lights at her. Her companion had swung around at my cry, pushing the queen to safety. The malevolent lights struck him in his chest, crawling over his neck and face. His eyes went wide, his body thrashing, snared in the throes of this brutal curse. Soldiers rushed to him but were flung aside by the force. Some of the glowing streaks fragmented from the warrior—to come, hurtling toward me. At once, Zhangwei covered me, using his body as a shield—stiffening as the ominous lights plunged into him.
“No!” I shoved at him, wanting to get him to safety, but he held me like he’d never let go. Despite his protection, a scattering of the spell struck me too—the pain as excruciating as nails being hammered into my flesh. A bitter cold sank over me, spreading throughout my body like ice. Yet Zhangwei’s skin was ashen, colder even than mine—he’d shielded me at the cost of himself. As we fell to the ground, my gaze fixed on the warrior who’d protected the queen. He’d borne the brunt of the vicious attack, those lights devouring his body like a ravenous beast—only fading once he went deathly still.
A cry split the air. Such anguish . . . it wrenched me within. Queen Caihong pulled away from those restraining her, weeping as she fell by his side, clasping him to her. I was crying too, grief crashing through me at the sight of my mother embracing the warrior’s body, shuddering in ceaseless grief. She tore the helmet from his head, cradling his face between her palms. He was striking: a broad chin, a sharp nose, dark-brown hair. Recognition was a bolt to my heart, a surge of pure joy that was drowned by despair.
Father.
He was dead . . . they’d killed him. I curled on the bed, awake now, my pillow wet with tears, a fist crammed against my mouth. A cruel thing to relive the death of your loved ones—to lose them all over again, just when you’d found them.
A shadow fell across the floor; someone was in my room. My skin prickled as I seized the dagger under my pillow. Why wait to be attacked? Silently, I rose from the bed, raising the dagger—then I sprang toward the intruder.
He towered over me, but I shoved him against the wall, the edge of my dagger to his throat. The man was well built and strong, but I was quick, my grip firm as I held him fast—or was it that he didn’t struggle? As he slanted his head away from me, a shaft of moonlight illuminated the smooth planes of his face, the column of his throat.
“Zhangwei,” I breathed.
Wonder stirred in me, braided with shock and relief. And something else, warm and bright and endless. But what if this was another imposter? I didn’t drop my dagger; I didn’t dare. Instead of trying to break free, he leaned closer until the tip of my blade was tucked beneath a fold of his flesh. The barest touch, and his skin would tear. My hand shook as I shifted the dagger slightly.
His lips stretched into a smile. “I expected a warmer greeting, Liyen.”
“How do I know it’s you?” I desperately wanted this to be real.
In a flash, he spun me around, until my back was against the wall, his arms fencing me in as his dark gaze pinned mine. Somehow, I felt no fear. His presence seemed to fill the room, the air tightening with the force of his aura—more potent than before. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been weakened by the poison, incapacitated by the lotus. And now . . . he was here.
“How do you want me to prove it?” he asked in silken tones, his face cast in shadow. “Shall I show you where my dagger pierced your chest the first time? Shall I tell you what you said when you yielded the lotus to me? Or shall I show you how I kissed you when we were in the river—”
The dagger fell from my hand, clattering softly on the carpet. As he reached for me, I threw my arms around his neck. This was him; I knew it in my heart. Tears blurred my sight, those of joy, a lightness lifting me. He was here, he’d come for me. He clasped me tightly as I buried my face in the curve of his neck, his large hands stroking my back in a soothing rhythm, a warmth kindling inside me.
“Why were you crying?” he whispered, gently brushing the tears from my face.
“A bad dream.” My voice was hoarse, my pain still raw.
He nudged the fallen dagger with his boot. “Is that why you almost stabbed me? After all the trouble I took to find you?”
“What did you expect? Praise and grateful tears?” I mocked, even as I wiped my eyes again.
“At least I have the tears.” His gaze was startlingly bright. “But I’ll take a curse from you any day, over praise from any other.”
“A bad trade.”
“No trade is bad between us.” He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “With you, it doesn’t matter whether I win or lose.”
I grinned at him. “It matters to me.”
“I know.” He laughed as he spoke, his tone jolting something in me—something elusive that slipped from my grasp. “Then let me be a fool.”
At his slow smile, heat surged through my veins. How close we stood, my leg wedged between his. As I stepped back, his hands slid around my waist, holding me lightly in place. “I’ll even take your dagger through my heart if you stay.”
My pulse raced as I traced his chest slowly. “Is that a challenge?” There was a new assurance in speaking to him, my body attuned to his—like something had awakened inside me, like I’d been asleep all this while.
He bent his head to mine. “I’m yours to do with as you will.”
My face burned from the intensity of his stare. I wanted to linger in this moment, to savor it—but I made myself move away, regretting it as his fingers slid from me, my body still craving his touch. There were too many questions in my mind, and he was far too potent a distraction.
“How did you find me?”