Jadon hung in the chains, trembling, breath shallow. The witches’ chanting filled the chamber, magic swirling like a storm around her.

The Rogue King lifted his hands, preparing the next sigil. Then He froze His head snapped toward the door.

A low, dangerous growl rumbled in his chest. “…He’s here.” One of the witches faltered. “My King, should we reinforce the circle?”

“No,” he hissed. “He’s already inside.” Another witch’s eyes widened. “But the army”

“Is ...