We step out of the brush. Roane holds out a hand and keeps me back. Four Shadowmen descend around me. "Stay behind Division lines. The Shadowmen will protect you," he says and meets my eyes. "Whatever you do, do not fear them."

There is a warning in his words, but before I can speak, he steps into the open, past the forest boundary and beyond Division lines.

His brother's smile widens. "My brother, the runaway!" He clasps a hand to his heart. "I was worried about you. I thought you'd abandoned your people, our bravest warrior, our-"

"What are you doing here, Thyre?" Roane stops a few feet away. "How did you know where I was?"

The Sentries form a semi-circle behind Thyre. With a threat like Roane, I can imagine him needing protection.

Thyre's eyes narrow. "How? You might as well have left a note. I know your fighting style: messy and bloody. And you have a nasty habit of decapitating. I much prefer to - " he motions a finger across his throat " - slice and drink."

Roane's jaw clenches, as do his fists. "You were always an animal."

Thyre jerks his head in my direction. "It was because of her kind, you know. Is she yours?" He runs his gaze along me; the lust in his stare feels like serpents twining about my throat.

"She belongs to herself," Roane says, "And you can't have her."

Thyre presses a palm to his chest and feigns a gasp. "Oh, Roane, Roane. I think we've started this conversation off wrong. You're angry, and you have all the right to be. It's this, isn't it?" He lifts his hands to frame the crown of thorns and ivy. "I should have asked before taking what's yours, but it does suit me quite well, don't you think?"

"Doesn't matter. A crown doesn't make you a prince."

Thyre arches a brow, a slow smile curling his lips. "It can, once you're dead."

Tense silence settles between the two brothers, the threatening words echoing between them, and in my ears. The crown didn't change who Thyre was, not a prince. But he would be a prince if Roane dies. The pieces of this simple yet complicated puzzle arrange themselves in my mind and I feel the ground vanish beneath me.

"You can have the crown. All I want is to take her across this bridge."

"How generous of you, but you know I can't just take it. Were it that easy, I would have claimed it long ago. The only way to forfeit the crown is by death, brother. A death I have been wracking my brain trying to plan. If I just outright killed you like I wanted, like Cassius was too much of a coward to do, this would have all been over ages ago. But that would make me a traitor to our people, seeing how much they love you. But then you went and crossed division lines." He clicks his teeth. "It's a shame really, but even our people will understand that the punishment for such insubordination and treason is death. So sadly your options, dear brother, are death and death. But I will be merciful and let you decide how you die. A nice trait for a king: merciful, no?"

Thyre walks in an aimless circle. "You choices are either I kill you now and take the girl, or we take you back to our father, who will tear the skin from your bones and then give me your crown and the girl. Your choice, though-and in no way am I biased because it's me-I would be the better choice. You know how nasty father can be, and so close to the Swelling..."

He looks to me and tilts his head. "Human girl, neither of you will be alive once all of this is over." He extends a hooded hand to me. "Come, I'll be gentle."

My hands dampen and my neck prickles with the desire to thrust arrow straight into his chest.

"What makes you think she'll listen to you?" Roane says, his voice a low rumble. At the sound of him, a hissing whisper echoes through the forest. It's the sigh of something sinister waking from a long slumber. The sentries exchange looks, no doubt hearing the same. Between the trees, night deepens and the branches tremble. And in the midst of it all, Roane's skin grows thinner and paler, patches of it roughened like scales. He once told me he hadn't taken on the Darkness yet, but he was still able to summon it. My heart twists and for the first time, I doubt I'll be able to keep him from it.

Thyre smiles. "She must be important for you to call on Darkness. But, too bad for you, this bridge falls within my territory. It's my land, and those on it will obey me or die."

"It may be your land, but this darkness belongs to me, and it will obey me."

A breeze howls past, and the trees shiver at the sound.

"Have it your way." Thyre turns, brushing his duster behind him in one fluid motion. "Finish him, and bring me the girl."

In a blink, the sentries all lost a tattoo. Clubs, swords, and chains in hand, they glare at Roane who smiles--an inhuman smile that holds the promise of blood and death.

A shrieking cry resounds, and darkness swallows us whole. A thick cloud of black sweeps over me, but I fight off a scream, keeping Roane's words close. Whatever you do, do not fear them.

It's hard not to. In the center of so much darkness, I give off a minimal glow. In that light, the outlines of the Shadowmen become visible. They stand side by side, smoky frames stiff and ready. They hold serrated swords of mist at their sides. They're my protection against the living darkness that swells above us, a mass of blackness that moans and reaches for me with skeletal hands. I kneel down, out of the grasp of its gnarled fingers that swipe at me in passing. Though the darkness belongs to Roane, I'm still a target.

From in between the billowing smoke of the Shadowmen guarding me, I watch Roane in the sparks given off from the clashing of metal on metal, his sword against his many opponents. The Shadowmen grab at one of the sentries, dragging him off into their cloud. Others grip Sentries by the neck and suck out their life force until their flesh withers from their bodies as smoke.

The sentries battle against the Shadowmen, their swords glowing red in the mist. One slashes through a Shadowman as if it were a tangible being. The Shadowman stiffens and dissolves into curls of ash that vanish into the blackness. He turns just as Roane rams his sword into his chest. He drops to his knees. The Shadowmen blanket him, their whines and screams resounding as they devour him.

Thyre holds up a hand. "Enough of this!"

He turns out to the stagnant line of Shadowmen protecting me and points to Roane who weaves in and out of the black cloud, fighting his kind. "Look at him. He's outnumbered and soon, you will answer to me." He retracts his hand. "Bring me the girl and you shall have your freedom."

The Shadowmen who are meant to be my protection to me. Their faceless heads tilt as if analyzing me, the key to their freedom. One reaches for me, decided. I lunge between them and rush headfirst into the forest.

One descends before me and digs its claws into my shoulder. I scream at the burn that shoots through my veins. Another clutches my legs, disabling me.

"Arrow!" I yell. The thick handle appears in my hand. I stab backward, blindly. The Shadowman behind me screeches, his claws digging deeper into my skin. I withdraw the blade and stab again, twisting when he screeches louder. A wind gusts and I slam down onto the ground with a grunt, his ash brushing across me. The other Shadowman still holds my foot and drags me toward Thyre.

I thrust Arrow at his back. He arches and explodes to ash. I crawl forward and reach for the dagger but scream. Claws stab me in the back before I'm able reach it. A Shadowman lifts me from the ground and holds me above him as if I were a child. I try to call for Arrow, but the burn in my veins grips my throat.

"Bring her to me, you fool!" Thyre calls from behind his last line of defending Sentries.

The Shadowman slams me back against a tree, wrapping his clawed hands around my neck. He looks to Thyre and growls. It's a sound of insubordination, and I know then, he won't turn me over. He's going to drain me himself.

Thyre takes a step back, defeat and anger clear in his eyes. Spinning on his heels, he vanishes over the riverbank and under the bridge. I kick, but the Shadowman floats before me and his body billows out of reach. He draws closer. I'm paralyzed as curls of white smoke emanate from my body, coiling into the void of his face. He means to drain my life as the others did with the sentries. My heart hammers in my chest. The faster it beats, the closer he gets.

Frozen under the burn of his claws, I force myself to assimilate the pain. I've come too far. I won't die here, not out of fear. Assimilating the burn, I hold myself still. The shadowman drags in another breath, but no smoke leaves me. He jerks his head back, and as my fear in him lessens, so does his hold on me.

I slip through his fingers and tumble to the ground. "Arrow!"

It shrieks, but I cut it short, ramming the dagger into its chest. I twist it and he explodes into a cloud of ash.

I stumble back against the tree, winded just as Roane slides his sword out from the last sentry. He turns and steps forward, while behind him, the Shadowmen plunge onto the sentry's remains, feeding on the last of his breath and life.

Beaten and battered, I slide down the tree. My joints are numb, and I'm freezing. Roane had prepared me for sentries, but these shadowmen were an entirely different story... and come to think of it, so is Roane.

He approaches and kneels before me. I rub my neck, hissing at the stabs of the Shadowman's claws. He moves my hand and replaces it with his; instantly, the prickle of magic warms my skin.

"No, you can't. I'd rather you recover fully." I shift away and clamber to my feet. He reaches for me, but I bat his hands away, part anger, part pain. "Stop. We can't have you hurt, considering who you are."

He pauses at that. "Aramina, I-"

"We have to go. More Sentries or trolls might come, or Magics."

He looks at me. The debate is clear in his eyes, which though black, still hide nothing. I step away from him before he can explain, or claim that him being a prince changes nothing. We both know that's not true.

Thank you so much for reading!! Please vote and comment if you enjoyed the chapter :)