Page 61 of Empire's Curse

All at once, the jade bracelet began to glow and grow hot, nearly scalding her wrist. A white light shone in front of her and a powerful gust blew around her. She watched with squinting eyes as a figure flashed before her, the winds dying off as the light dimmed and flickered.

Clad in black, leathery-scaled armor that hugged his impressively tall and lean figure, and with a glinting gold hair crown, Muyang appeared like a dark general ready for battle. His inky hair feathered across his pale, beautiful face, and his black eyes went straight to her. He held her stunned gaze, his expression just as shocked as hers, before shifting his attention to her blood sprayed across the snow. Darkness and rage immediately flashed in his eyes and the winds howled louder.

“Daiyu?” he spoke slowly as he kneeled beside her, his hand hovering inches away from her shoulder. “What happened to you? Who did this?”

She couldn’t speak as she blinked up at him in shock. Was she hallucinating? How was it possible that he was standing right in front of her?

His eyebrows pulled together and a look of concern washed over his face, cracking his unreadable mask. He opened his mouth to say something, but an arrow shot toward him. Without even blinking, a tendril of smoke whipped out from the ground and caught the arrow midair. Muyang stonily turned to the six men standing a few feet from them. Daiyu followed his gaze at the men—all of whom had their weapons drawn.

“Are you six responsible for harming her?” he practically snarled, rising to his feet. A powerful, electrifying wind emitted from him, sending a shiver down Daiyu’s spine. She could practically taste the magic in the air—it was so thick and suffocating.

She pushed herself into a sitting position and winced as her thigh throbbed painfully. Her attention drew to the jade bracelet, which was still warm against her skin, and she blinked down at it in dazed silence. Had she …summonedMuyang? It was the only explanation.

The confusion, adrenaline, and shock seemed to dull the pain in her thigh. She looked between Muyang and the group of men, who were now circling them like a pack of wolves. The lanky man raised his sword higher, his eyes narrowing.

“Th-they’re rebels,” Daiyu managed to whisper, her voice hoarse and her throat dry. Her arms trembled from holding herself up and she wanted nothing more than to collapse into the snow. Now that Muyang was here, she wassafe.

“Kill the bitch first,” one of the men said to the archer in the group, who was already nocking an arrow.

Muyang unsheathed his sword in one fell swoop, the sharp silver blade glittering in the sunlight. In seconds, shadows warped around the blade, swallowing the sharp edge and rising off it like steam. He didn’t look at Daiyu as he stepped in front of her protectively.

One of the men charged at Muyang from the side with his sword raised. Daiyu barely had time to blink before Muyang was in front of that man. He swung his own weapon and the man parried with his sword, but Muyang was stronger—much stronger. Daiyu watched wide-eyed as the shadow-drenched sword sliced through the other man’s sword like it was butter, and then cut the man in half. It happened so fast that Daiyu didn’t even see the blood spray against the snow until Muyang had already moved on to the next assailant.

She blinked, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stared at the body carved in half. The man’s mouth was still opening andclosing, his fingers twitching and his gaze locked onto the sky. An expression of pure confusion colored his pale face and Daiyu watched as the life drained out of him—quiet literally as he bled out in seconds.

An arrow shot through the confusion, missing Muyang by a hair’s breadth. The other men were swarming him, seeming to have forgotten all about her. They stood no chance against Muyang’s monstrous strength. He cut through their weapons with ease, lopping off hands and limbs like they were made of air instead of flesh and bone. Blood splattered against his pale face, marring his immaculate beauty with death and horror. He looked more like a demon general than anything else.

Daiyu didn’t know what to pay attention to—Muyang’s quick moves as he fought through the men, or the bodies collapsing with grotesque, fatal wounds. Her stomach twisted at the sights and she inhaled sharply whenever a hacked body part splatted on the ground.

When everyone was either dead or their bodies were twitching—and close to death—Muyang released a shuddered breath and stuck his sword into the partially frozen earth. He was breathing harder than usual, which was expected, but for some reason, she thought he didn’t have aneedfor anything—not water, nor food, and certainly not to catch his breath. He seemed too powerful in that moment, and yet mortal at the same time.

Daiyu opened her mouth to speak, but something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Time seemed to move in slow motion as the lanky rebel, whose legs were twisted beneath him in unnatural directions raised his dagger and, with the last of his strength, shot it at her.

Before she could even breathe—even think—Muyang dove forward. The dagger buried itself into his shoulder as he rolled on the ground and grunted upon impact. He raised his hand and a blast of black-blue light beamed out of it and smote the man on the spot until he was only a hunk of charcoal. The smell ofburning flesh and iron filled the air, and smoke rose from the charred, blackened corpse.

Muyang shoved himself into a sitting position, his soft mouth curled into a scowl as he gripped the leathered handle of the dagger and yanked it from his wound.

“Y-Your Majesty?” Daiyu inhaled sharply, the heat entering her lungs and her nose crinkling as the scent cleared her sinuses. She looked between him and the burned corpse, and then at the rest of the grisly scene. He had taken the hit for her, she realized with swelling horror. His uniform was already darkening at the shoulder. If he hadn’t done that … she would be dead. Or close to death.

His glittering black eyes flicked to her and she flinched back at the amount of blood bespattered across his face. He was breathing heavily still, his face appearing more pallid than it had minutes ago. “Did they hurt you?”

The words didn’t register to her until he dropped down to his knees in front of her, his gaze never leaving her.

“Daiyu?”

“No, no …” She reached forward to touch his shoulder but stopped herself short, her hands hovering over the seeping wound. Her shock kept her from speaking politely, formally, or correctly. She blurted, “Why didn’t you use your magic? Why …why?”

“Why are you worrying about me when you’re the one bleeding out?” Muyang arched an eyebrow and her cheeks flushed with unexpected warmth. He laughed softly, and it surprised her more than anything else—to see him chuckling while covered in blood with the corpses of his enemies at his feet. The corners of his eyes crinkled and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe as she took in his wickedly beautiful face. He looked so carefree in that moment, soalive.

Daiyu swallowed down the dryness of her throat and shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, only to be shot with excruciating, white-hot pain. A stifled gasp fell from her lips and she steadied her hands onto the cold, wintry snow to keepherself from flopping on the ground. Her thigh throbbed painfully, and she could feel the blood dripping from the wound and the arrow digging into her flesh with every slight movement.

Muyang grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to hold her upright, but that only made the pain worse. Daiyu slapped his hand away, her vision blotting with black spots.

“Stop, stop—just let me breathe—” She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to calm her breathing, even as her thigh ached more and more. Now that the adrenaline and shock from the fight was wearing off, her pain shot through the roof, tingling every single one of her senses. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t believe she had slapped the emperor’s hand away, but all her other senses were screaming at her to handle the pain.

Muyang scooped her into his arms without a warning. Daiyu bit back a scream and her vision darkened. She tried smacking him to keep him away—to keep the pain away—but she couldn’t do anything but writhe in his arms.

“Shh.” He pushed back the errant strands of hair obscuring her clammy face. “Breathe, Daiyu.”

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