Kia circled them like a predator that already knew it had won. His boots crunched against the broken stones, his eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction as he studied the chaos before him.

Logan stood there, with blood on his face, and his breath ragged. His kingdom lay in ruins, his guards either dead or bound under Lucia’s spell. Freya, pale and trembling, lay on the cold ground, trying to move but too weak to even lift her head.

“How foolish,” Kia said finally, his voice booming. ...