Their Hidden Princess (Zora) novel Chapter 94

**Where Sleeping Rivers Dream We Follow Trails Toward Tomorrow by Evan Milesa Cade**

**Chapter 94**

**Valentin**

**Two Years Into the Great War**

**D:**

**55 vouchers**

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the land, the wolves stood poised at the castle gates, a formidable formation awaiting the oncoming tide of battle. Their anticipation crackled in the air like static electricity. Those who had mastered the art of controlling their transformations were at the forefront, their powerful wolf forms emanating raw energy. They snarled menacingly, drool glistening on their fangs as they pawed the ground, ready to pounce. Behind them, the rest of their pack donned gleaming gold armor, which shimmered brilliantly in the fading sunlight, creating a dazzling display of rainbows that arched into the sky.

In the very center of this fierce assembly stood Victoria, clad from head to toe in radiant gold. Her wild red curls had been meticulously braided back, tucked neatly beneath a protective helm. The armor on her shoulders was adorned with wickedly sharp daggers, glinting in the sunlight, each blade honed to perfection, designed to inflict maximum damage upon the vampires they were about to face.

To her right, Valentin stood resolute, encased in his own suit of armor. His hair was slicked back, save for a single ash-brown strand that danced in the wind, betraying his otherwise composed demeanor. Clutched tightly in his hand was a sunlight blade, forged by the wolves who possessed the greatest affinity for the magiks. It felt heavy and powerful, yet he found himself glancing over his shoulder repeatedly, a nagging hope blossoming within him that Zahara would emerge from the castle, ready to join the fray.

“Look ahead!” Moonraiser’s voice boomed from atop a tower, his keen eyes scanning the horizon. “Dark cloud approaching from true north!”

Indeed, a swirling mass of darkness surged through the sky, a chaotic flurry that skidded and faltered before cresting the hill, hurtling directly towards the castle gates.

“Incoming!” Moonraiser shouted, urgency lacing his tone. “Brace yourselves!”

In an instant, the dark cloud dissipated, revealing a swarm of pale, red-eyed figures racing toward them with terrifying speed. Valentin tightened his grip on his weapon, instinctively dropping into the defensive stance that Moonraiser had drilled into him time and again.

The vampires reached the gates, crashing through them with a single, devastating blow. The wolves surged forward, a cacophony of silver and gold as bodies collided, chaos erupting in every direction. Valentin’s blade found its mark, slicing cleanly through the neck of one vampire, his head spinning away in a grotesque arc.

However, as the next vampire lunged at him, it veered too close to the sunlight streaming in from the west. The moment it touched the rays, it shriveled into a pile of ash at Valentin’s feet, leaving him momentarily breathless with disbelief.

He quickly scanned the battlefield, searching for allies amidst the turmoil. It seemed that the vampires had all retreated into the shadows, each one succumbing to the relentless light of the setting sun, crumbling into dust before the wolves’ eyes. One by one, they fled into the sunlight until none remained.

Valentin turned sharply, his heart pounding as he sought out Blythwitch across the field. Their eyes met, an unspoken question hanging in the air between them.

“Is that it?” Blythwitch muttered, disbelief etched across his features.

They stood in tense silence, the sun’s timer ticking away as it sank behind the treeline. Just as darkness began to envelop them, the second wave of vampires struck, stronger and more ferocious than before.

From the treetops beyond the shattered gate, they descended like a flock of predatory birds, landing atop several wolves in the front line. With a mere flick of their wrists, they snapped necks, leaving the fallen wolves in a gruesome heap of fur and blood.

Valentin fought valiantly, grounding several vampires that came at him, sustaining only a few scratches in return. But it felt as though he were trapped in a never-ending cycle of combat. Just when he thought he could catch his breath, another vampire would spring forth, snarling and snapping at him or Victoria. He pushed himself harder, wielding his sword like a battering ram, but the effort seemed futile.

In a moment of desperation, he slashed at a vampire attempting to claw its way up Victoria’s back, but a sudden, searing pain shot through his skull, as if a hot arrow had pierced his mind.

His sword clattered to the ground as he cradled his pounding head, collapsing to his knees. A scream tore itself from his throat as the agony engulfed him, wrapping around his body like a vice. It felt as if something was tearing him apart from the inside. As the pain began to ebb, one name echoed in his mind: Zahara.

“Victoria!” he roared, scrambling to his feet and snatching up his sword once more. “VICTORIA!”

Their eyes locked as she thrust her blade into a vampire, but he could see the instant her spirit faltered. He couldn’t hear her words, but the shape of her lips formed a single, heartbreaking response.

“No.”

Without a second thought, she darted toward the side of the castle, and Valentin followed, heart racing, dread coiling in his stomach. They fought through the remaining straggling vampires, bursting into the dense trees of the southern forest. Valentin’s heart hammered in his chest, the mantra echoing in his mind like a desperate prayer.

Please be alive. Please be alive. Just live.

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