When I reach the pyre for Daison, I stop and stand next to Kayla. I do not touch her, or hold her, because I do not feel she wants those things. Instead, I offer her my strength silently with my presence.

She speaks an old Fae blessing and lights the flames to set Daison's body free. I'm surprised she chose the vampire way rather than Fae, and I tell her so, when it's over.

"He and I lived by the fire of the forge. It seemed fitting he should leave this world by fire as well."

I nod and then finally pull her into an embrace. Baron howls as the fires fade and the ashes are all that remains of Daison. Kayla weeps silently.

There will be many pits of ash this night. Many new graves dotting the landscapes beyond, some marked, others not.

Many empty homes and hearts that once were full.

And in the end, there will be more war. This is what I have wrought. I am the Prince of War. I am the Prince of Death.

***

Marco and Roco, two of my most trusted soldiers, intercept me as Kayla and I make our way back to the castle under moonlight.

"Sir, we need you in the city," Marco says. He has dark circles under his eyes and looks as if he's aged ten years in the last few days.

"What's the problem?" I ask.

"Lord Salzar is torturing and executing the Fae rebels captured in the battle. He has them strung up in the city center."

I curse under my breath. "By whose orders?" I ask.

Roco scowls. "By his own authority. He says he's supported by your own law."

Kayla and I turn and follow Marco and Roco back to Stonehill. The sounds of shouts and screams grow as we near the city center. A throng of people has gathered around the square, howling for blood. They spread apart before me, and we make our way to the center, where Salzar reigns like a king, his enemies hanging on hooks behind him. His face is red, and spittle flies from his mouth as he shouts to the excited spectators. "And what shall we do with this one?" He slashes a blood soaked whip into the air, and it tears open the back of a woman hanging before him. She is topless and fighting against her restraints. Her long blue hair is matted with blood and dirt.

"Gut her!" Someone screams from the crowd.

"Beheading!" Someone else shouts.

The suggestions become more and more gruesome, more violent and twisted. Kayla sucks in her breath beside me, and I know this sight must shock her.

Next to the woman, another man hangs naked. He is already dead, but it wasn't an easy death. His guts have been torn from him violently, and dangle from his limp body.

"Stop!" I shout in a loud, commanding voice.

The crowd falls silent, and Salzar finally notices me. A red cape falls down his back. His hair is short and black. He doesn't cower. He sneers. "Greetings, Prince Fenris. So glad you could join us in exacting justice on the monsters who ravaged this realm."

"This ends now," I roar, working very hard to reign in my own temper. To refrain from bashing the man's face in with my fist.

The crowd grows uneasy at my words, whispering.

Salzar raises an eyebrow. "Would you deny the people their due victory? Would you spare the rebels who destroyed your city and killed your citizens? Are you not the Prince of War?"

There's a shift in the air. Everyone is listening, but they are unsure of who to follow.

Baron stands by my side, alert and ready for battle. "I am the master of this realm, Salzar. Not you. You have no authority here, and no right to decide the punishment of prisoners of war." My voice is low, but it carries through the crowd.

"They killed our families," Salzar says. His voice is compelling, passionate, a master manipulator riling the crowd's thirst for vengeance. "We cannot let our enemies live. You taught me that, Prince of War, when you killed my son for attacking your princess."

And now we come to it. I knew Salzar would be a problem, and he picked the worst time. Rodrigo deserved his fate after attacking and attempting to feed on Arianna, but this crowd will not understand why the Fae who killed their families don't deserve the same fate. I'm losing control.

"Take the remaining prisoners to the Keeper," I command my own soldiers. "Get them food, aid and rest." The crowd is shocked into silence, then that silence breaks in a wave of outrage.

"Consider this," I say calmly, quieting them once more. "How do you want the Fae to treat any hostages they might have taken from our side?"

Salzar sneers. "They took no prisoners. All have been accounted for, dead or alive."

I turn to him, digging into him with my gaze, showing the wrath in my eyes. I walk up the steps of the stage, shaking the wood beneath my boots. "You're wrong, Salzar. They took one. They took Princess Arianna."

There are gasps in the crowd, a shocked pain that grows. I was counting on this response. In the short time Arianna has lived here, she has worked her way into the hearts of these people. They love her.

Salzar is at a loss, so I press my advantage. "You have already killed several hostages who might have had information about where Princess Arianna is being kept. Your reckless disregard for the authority of this realm might have cost the princess her life!" I can only hope my words are exaggerations meant to stir the emotion of the crowd, and not prophetic. "Guards! Take Lord Salzar to the dungeons to cool his tempers and remind him who rules here. Three days should be sufficient."

Marco and Roco grab the struggling man and drag him through the streets as he shouts profanities and swears to end me. I would laugh, but there is still the matter of finding Ari.