"Be done with it," Cadeon whispered as a stream of blood welled at the edge of the sword. He had no cares now. "What do you await—"

Without warning, an arrow embedded itself into the assassin's neck; he dropped his sword to futilely claw at it, ripping at his skin while Cadeon watched dispassionately. As the bastard slumped to his knees, still digging at the arrow, a troop of cavalry neared.

The leader, clad in light armor, wore a fearsome black helmet—a notorious one. It was King Rydstrom, leader of all the rage demons. Cadeon's true blood brother.

Rydstrom removed the helmet, revealing his battle-scarred visage. Most saw this sight and grew weak with fear.

Resentment boiled in Cadeon's veins. His mind flashed to the last time he'd seen Rydstrom—when Cadeon had been only seven. As his brother's heir, he'd been separated out of the royal family twelve years ago, sent to live hidden in anonymity far from the oft-targeted Tornin.

The memory of his banishment rushed over him…. As Cadeon's carriage had rolled away, Rydstrom—who'd once been more like a father to him—had stood with his shoulders back, his face expressionless.

Cadeon remembered wondering if his brother had cared at all that he was leaving.

Now the king wasted no breath on greetings to his younger brother, nor did he bother to dismount. "I'd commanded your presence at Tornin."

To sit as regent while Rydstrom had journeyed off to defend against the aggressing Vampire Horde.

"Yet you refused to return with my guard?" Rydstrom said harshly. "And then you evaded them like a coward?"

Cadeon hadn't evaded the guards out of cowardice. His foster family had his first loyalty, and they'd needed his help. Because he could read and write and teleport, Cadeon was the natural choice to go afield and seek help for the blight on the area's crops.