Page 12 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
He growled and raised his weapon again. Before he swung once more, his face went slack. A breath later he crumpled, spiky rod and all, an arrow sticking out of his back.
I wondered if that one had been aimed for me, too, as I grabbed the woman’s hand to pull her up.
She yanked her arm back, sneering at me from behind the mud covering her face and making her fur lashes droop. “Don’t touch me, you hick.”
Well.
“Find cover,” I told her and rose, knees weak as my veins thrummed with fear. “And you’re welcome.”
More arrows fell, thinning the crowd blocking my path toward the trees.
Think, think, think.
The rows of chairs.
Before the thought had even fully formed, I dove on my elbows and knees, crawling forward in the tunnel created by the chairs’ legs. It was hard to pull my skirt through, but my body slipped underneath with ease.
Arrows thudded against the silver seats above me. Their heads pierced the wood, but not me.
I slithered forward, elbows raw, until the row ended, and jumped to my feet, running at a desperate pace.
I saw the tree. I was so–
Something jerked me back so suddenly, the air hissed out of my lungs. Orsomeone.
With my erratic heart in my throat, I turned to see the impossibly long train of my dress impaled by Fabrian’ dagger. He lay flat on the ground, holding onto the weapon for dear life with both his hands, rivulets of his blood splattering my hem.
His face was contorted with pain, but he wouldn’t let go. I yanked my skirt, desperate to get away, but the blasted Elekan silk held true.
The fabric wouldn’t rip.
The switchblade shook in my hand. One flick, aimed right between his pellet eyes, and he’d be gone. I’d dreamed about getting revenge in a million different ways, but now that I could actually kill him…
“You’re not going anywhere until I walk out of here alive,” he slurred, struggling to stand.
“Get your blasted assassins to save you,” I hissed.
“Those weren’tmyassassins. I was just supposed to play my part, marry the stupid little Lost Daughter, and they promised me I’d live. You’re my leverage against them, you idi–”
Fabrian didn’t get to finish whatever heinous thing he was about to say–and never would.
The Dragon flashed behind him, sword raised. The narrow blade hissed through the air before it sliced clean through Fabrian. Skull and bones and muscles and joints, all halved. The two parts of Fabrian collapsed in a nauseating splatter, half on my wedding dress, spurting blood and a brown liquid I had no hope of identifying.
The blood in the sword’s hilt swirled around in its translucent casing, as if gleeful for another sacrifice.
Bile threatened to spill past my lips.
What in Xamor’s name had happened?
Your groom has just been assassinated, that's what. He deserved to suffer more.
The Dragon barely glanced at what used to be Fabrian before his piercing gaze narrowed on me. The moment our eyes met, my heart stuttered. He flicked his blade, splattering the blood onto the grass. Cleaning it for his next victim.
Me.
He stepped over the twin halves of Fabrian, prowling closer. His unflinching, elegant gait was so stark compared to themasses running for their lives. Whether on instinct or not, they ran around him, avoiding him at all costs.
Prey running away from a predator.
