Em frantically scrambled across the dirt to him. “You missed,” Iria said from behind her. “Tell her to move out of the way, and I’ll make sure the next one’s in his heart,” Miguel said. Em yanked the arrow out before Cas could protest. He pressed his lips together to muffle his scream. He looked like he wished he’d killed her. “Move, Emelina,” Miguel said. Her eyes met Cas’s. His father deserved to die. Lera deserved to be burned to the ground. But Cas didn’t deserve any of this. “No,” she said, her voice sounding stronger than she felt. Boots stopped next to her, and Aren frowned down at her. “If you’re going to kill him yourself, do you mind being quick about it?” Miguel asked. “I know your mother was fond of extended torture, but we don’t really have time—” “No one is killing him,” she said. Some of Cas’s anger melted into confusion. “Em . . .” Iria’s voice trailed off, and she glanced at Miguel. “We have to,” Miguel said. “King Lucio ordered the royal family killed.”
