Page 95 of Kingdom of Locks

“Amell, speak to me, don’t leave,” she sobbed.

“I’m…all right,” he managed, wincing with the words. “It’s just…a bit of blood.”

Aurelia made no answer, but he could hear her breathing growing more and more rapid.

“Move away from him!” came the voice of the soldier, clearly aghast at what he’d done.

“NO!” Amell shouted, with the greatest effort of his life. “No one touch her!”

“Your Highness, she’s addled your mind!”

“She hasn’t,” he insisted, attempting to sit up, and instantly falling back.

“Don’t move!” Aurelia protested.

“Your Highness—”

“Stop!” Amell interrupted the soldier, in his sternest voice. “Stay where you are, and that’s a royal order.”

“I’m so sorry, Amell,” Aurelia said, disregarding the soldiers, “but this will hurt.”

Amell gave an involuntary cry of pain as the arrow came out of his wound, seemingly by itself. There was a loud ripping sound, and a wad of fabric was suddenly pressed to his shoulder. He felt Aurelia’s warm breath on his cheek as she bent over him, and something wet fell onto his forehead.

“Don’t cry,” he said weakly, reaching blindly for her. “It’s going to be all right.”

“Amell, you shouldn’t have done it,” she sobbed. “I can’t bear to see you hurt for me.”

“And I can’t bear to make you cry,” he said, in an attempt at lightness. “Crying doesn’t help anyone.”

Aurelia gave a hiccup that might have hidden a hysterical laugh. “I saved someone’s life by crying once. If only I could do it again.”

Amell was about to protest that his life wasn’t in danger, when something hit his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he gasped at the stinging sensation. Steady drops were still hitting his face, and it took him a moment to realize that Aurelia’s tears had fallen into his eyes. Unable to see them coming, he hadn’t instinctively closed his eyelids for protection.

With a few more rapid blinks, something solid came into view, and he jerked convulsively at the sight of the most beautiful face in the world, hovering over him in tear-stained anguish.

“Aurelia!” he cried. “I can see you! Your tears counteracted the magic somehow.”

“Amell,” she gasped, relief washing over her face.

“And you claim she’s not an enchantress.” The skeptical voice came from a nearby soldier, who was watching Aurelia with mistrust.

Amell’s senses were swimming, and he could see that the fabric Aurelia was pressing to his shoulder was soaked with his blood. He drew a labored breath, putting as much authority as he could into his weakened voice.

“She’s not a prisoner.” His eyes passed over the gathered soldiers.

“Your Highness, her hair,” protested one of them.

Amell glanced at it, grimacing as he saw how very similar it looked to the standard prison style. Aurelia’s anxious face danced before his vision, spots erupting here and there. With an effort, he turned back to the soldiers.

“I can explain…everything…” he panted. “But not…here. Anyone who hurts her…will answer to…me.” He closed his eyes for a moment. The pain in his shoulder had become overwhelming, but he willed himself to stay conscious until he could finish what he needed to say. “Take her to…the castle…she won’t…resist.” His eyes searched Aurelia’s pleadingly. “Do you…trust me?”

“Of course I do,” she whispered.

He stretched out a hand toward her face, wishing he could wipe the terror from her eyes. But before he could reach her, the blackness closed in, and he knew no more.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Amell!” Aurelia clutched Amell’s limp form close, terror racing through her. He couldn’t die. Not now, not for her. Why had he leaped in front of that arrow?

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