Free Fist of the Furor by Frankie Rose, R. K. Ryals, Melissa Ringsted Page A

His gaze found mine. “There was something wrong with me, wasn’t there? I feel … lighter.”
    I glanced at the floor. “Honestly? I have no idea. I’ve healed life threatening wounds before, but I’m not sure how it works. I don’t know the power’s limits.”
    Freemont watched me. “You’re a naïve one, girl. Tested by war, I can see that, but still naïve. War steals from people,” his gaze fell on the dining hall just beyond the throne room, “but circumstance can completely rob them of life.”
    Standing, the king left his throne, the breeze from his sudden departure fanning my face. There was renewed vigor in his step. Exhaustion weighed me down.
    Cautiously, Ryon approached me. “Are you okay?”
    Waving him off, I straightened, my back stiff. I’d known what healing the king would mean. The first time I’d ever healed someone with a dire wound, I’d blacked out, overcome by pain. Kye’s pain. The second time he’d been injured, there’d been nothing I could do to save him.
    Oran’s fur met my palm just as the trees screamed, “Trouble!”
    I tensed, my eyes going wide. “Oran,” I breathed. The wolf growled. Even exhausted, my fingers flexed, ready to go for the dagger on my thigh.
    There was a yell, a chorus of high-pitched female screams. There were overturned plates and breaking glass in the room beyond.
    “Rodents,” a man cried, disgusted.
    I turned just in time to find a drunken lord stumbling on the marble floor, his hand going for his sword, his eyes narrowed. Thomas the mouse scurried toward me.
    “Kill it!” a frenzied female voice yelled.
    The mouse jumped, his small body quivering as he ran. I wasn’t sure if it was possible for a mouse to look terrified, but this one did. It made my heart clench, and I stepped into the hall before lifting the hem of my skirt in welcome. To kill the mouse, they’d have to undress me. Although, by the reddened, drunken gazes, I wasn’t sure the nobles would find that unwelcome.
    “Talk to me, Thomas,” I hissed as he drew nearer.
    He squeaked, “Traitors, my Queen! There are traitors in the palace!” He skidded under my skirt, and I dropped the hem. The room suddenly filled with outraged cries, a horde of noble men forced to stop chasing the creature, their chests heaving.
    “If you’ll just move aside, m’lady,” one man panted, “we’ll be rid of the rodent.”
    I smiled. “Oh, I rather like the creature. I doubt he’ll cause me any harm.”
    The men scoffed. Behind them, Gabriella swore, “She’s unnatural! She protects pests now? Pests ! They carry disease, Your Majesty. You must not allow it!”
    Prince Cadeyrn stood, his large frame rising above the rest of the men in the room. The only sign of his earlier absence was his hair. It was down now, unbound. It emphasized his sharp features and vivid blue eyes.
    “Where are the traitors?” I hissed, my voice low enough only Thomas and Oran could hear.
    Thomas circled my feet. My jaw clenched. I was the protector of creatures I’d once climbed onto chairs to avoid. It was something to get used to.
    “Stop moving,” I ordered.
    The mouse stilled. “They’ve plans to kidnap the heir, my Queen.”
    I froze, my blood going cold, my body going numb.
    “Thomas,” I said slowly, “do you mean Prince Arien?”
    The mouse squeaked, “No, my Queen, the other heir.”
    I had my dagger in my hand, the scandal be damned, and was moving toward the stairs before the guards had time to react. Oran bounded after me.
    There was shouting below, firm orders and harried exclamations as Prince Cadeyrn leapt up the stairwell, his sword drawn. Lochlen, Maeve, Daegan, Gryphon, and Madden trailed us.
    My hand found Cadeyrn’s arm as I ran, my fingers digging into his skin. “Your nephew?” I asked. “Where is he kept?”
    Cadeyrn roared, “To the nursery!”
    The royal guards gasped. A distraught female scream rose from below, and I knew the Princess of Yorbrook had heard his cry. Her son