Page 45 of Destiny Redeemed
“Secure them. We need to go,” Anderic said, his voice carrying an unmistakable note of command. “Now.”
Noah hesitated only a second before nodding and stepping away. Anderic’s gaze then shifted to Rosalind, who still had her arm around me, keeping me steady. She raised her hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “She’s all yours, Your Highness.”
Without hesitation, Anderic scooped me into his arms. I didn’t protest. I didn’t have the strength. Instead, as exhaustion finally threatened to drag me under, I let out a slow breath and allowed myself, for the first time in days, to feel relief.
I nestled into Anderic’s arms, allowing myself a moment of weakness. His warmth seeped through my tattered clothes, a welcome relief after the cold, damp cell I’d been trapped in. The strong, steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek was oddly comforting.
“Your Highness,” I murmured, my voice hoarse. “I didn’t know you cared.”
His arms tightened around me. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he growled, but there was no real bite to his words. “You’re far too troublesome to die on my watch.”
I managed a weak chuckle. “Glad to know I’m such an inconvenience.”
As Anderic turned to leave, a commotion erupted behind us. A soldier’s pained cry pierced the air, followed by the telltale sound of a body hitting the floor. We whirled around—well, Anderic whirled, I just sort of lolled in his arms—to see Red sprinting towards freedom, the guard who’d been holding him now sprawled unconscious on the grimy floor.
“Damn it!” Anderic snarled, his body tensing. I could practically feel the conflict radiating off him—chase after Red or get me to safety?
Before he could decide, the thundering footsteps echoed through the corridor. A soldier burst in, panic etched across his face. “Your Highness! More of them are coming!”
Well, wasn’t this just peachy? Trapped between a fleeing criminal mastermind and his incoming goons. If I weren’t so exhausted, I might have found the situation almost comical.
I must have had a concussion. Nothing about this situation was funny.
“We need to move,” Rosalind said, her voice taut with urgency. She gripped her sword tighter, eyes darting between the corridors.
Noah nodded, positioning himself between us—mostly Rosalind and the approaching threat. “I’ll hold them off. Get out of here.”
Rosalind scoffed, stepping up beside him without hesitation. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m fighting with you.” There was no room for argument in her voice, only steel-edged determination.
Just as the tension in the room reached a fever pitch, a small figure darted through the doorway, narrowly avoiding Noah’s instinctive swing.
“Tommy!” I gasped, relief flooding through me. The boy was alive, seemingly unharmed, and—most importantly—not captured.
“M’lady!” Tommy panted, his freckled face flushed with exertion. “I know another way out. Follow me!”
Anderic’s eyes narrowed, clearly torn between trusting a street urchin and facing the oncoming horde. “How do we know this isn’t a trap?”
I mustered what little strength I had left to lift my head. “We can trust him,” I insisted, locking eyes with Anderic. “He’s with me.”
For a heartbeat, Anderic searched my face, as if considering asking how I knew Tommy. But whatever question lingered in his mind, he dismissed it just as quickly. With a curt nod, he turned to Tommy. “Lead the way, boy. And pray you’re not leading us astray.”
Tommy’s gap-toothed grin flashed in the dim light. “This way! Hurry!”
We plunged into a maze of dank, twisting corridors, the sounds of pursuit growing fainter behind us. The torchlightthrew grotesque shadows on the walls, making it seem as if the very stones were reaching out to grab us.
My head swam, the adrenaline that had kept me going finally ebbing away. The world began to blur, edges softening and colors bleeding together. I tried to focus on Anderic’s face, on the determined set of his jaw, but even that started to fade.
A sudden thought clawed its way to the surface—I needed to tell him. About the tattoo. About how the assassins from that day weren’t just mercenaries but members of the Red Cross Gang. Or at least, half of them were.
My lips parted, but the words never came. Darkness swallowed me whole.
* * *
I awoke to the familiar softness of silk sheets against my skin, a luxury I’d almost forgotten during my time in that Godforsaken cell. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the warm glow of candlelight that bathed the opulent guest chamber. For a moment, I wondered if I’d dreamed the whole ordeal.
But then the pain hit me, a dull ache that seemed to radiate from every inch of my body. I let out a soft groan, my throat parched and raw.
Oh, it was real. Very real.
