Page 40 of The Path of Blood and Betrayals
Magic so heavy and thick in my gut rolls, begging for more but I close the lid, pushing it away like Nessa taught me. I cannot let it out again. I cannot keep killing.
The Coven saw me as a monster.Maybe I am.
Turning to the sink, I scrub my hands and face until the blood is gone and my hands are pink and raw. I’ve killed enough—maybe justified, but I cannot keep doing this.
Standing, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, taking in my splotchy cheeks, the hollow blue eyes and trembling bottom lip. The washroom is sparkling white and clean; but I feel too wicked to be here.
My magic kept me alive but at what cost?
I stay there, breathing, fighting the guilt, the crushing need for more from my power, before the battle noises subside and the palace fallsquiet.
Tiptoeing back into the chamber, I wait, listening for another rustling. There’s nothing.
Has the battle ended? Are we victorious?
My gut churns.What abut Tay?
Carefully, I unlatch the bedroom door, peeking out into the hall, a few torches out. The entire palace is quiet, silence and somberness heavy in the air. I don’t have to look outside to know this battle took a lot from us—I can feel it.
Snatching the torch closest to me, I exit, keeping my ears tuned for movement. I should stay inside, wait for Tay but I need to know if he survived. I need to know if the palace is still ours.
The magic in my body moves, trying to locate a heart to control but I squash it, throwing up my battered mental shields. I cannot risk it.
The raider’s corpse is still where I left it, crumpled in the corner, forgotten. I try not to feel guilt for the kill—it was either him or me. But I can still mourn what I’ve done. The shame I feel.
Turning left, my toe trips over a sack, body falling to the opposing wall, torch clattering to the ground. Groaning, I look back, expecting to see forgotten clothing from a lady in the melee but instead, it’s another body.
Stepping close, I inspect its face, eyes widening. It’s the lord from earlier—who tried to assault me. His throat is ripped out, body sunken as if drained. Nothing but leathery skin and broken bones is left of him.
Under him, there’s only a small puddle of blood.
How did he get here?
He’s posed, a peace offering outside my door, left like a cat giving it’s master a mouse. Who?—
I gasp, looking around. Only one person knew who this man was—what he did.
And he’s just given me peace of mind by slaying my attacker.
But why?
Running feet pull my attention left as I see Tay’s sweat soaked face skid to a halt before me. He sighs, smile wide before he crushes me into a tight hug.
“You’re alright!” He shouts, pulling back to scan me. “Are you injured?”
Lips quivering, I shake my head. “I stayed out of sight,” I say, voice cracking. Relief so strong sweeps over me as I take in the cuts along his shoulders and brow, fighting the urge to cry. “Are you okay?”
Gods, he’s alive.
He shrugs. “I’ll heal. C’mon.” He grabs my hand, glancing to the corpses with a furrowed brow. “Griffin is asking everyone to the throne room. To assess damages.”
I can barely respond before we’re rushing through the passages, into the crowded space.
The throne room is packed with those of us who survived. Taking in the charred faces, the soiled slippers and the once beautiful dresses, it doesn’t look like many innocent people were lost.
The thinned-out ranks of the guards stations around the walls though, proves we lost heavily.
“We live,” King Griffin begins, standing before us. He’s wearing a thick metal breastplate, untarnished from battle. Clearly he wasn’t on the front lines. “We were ruthlessly attacked by the Crimson Army when we least expected. WhenIleast expected it.” The sky-blue orbs are weathered, tired. “That is my mistake. But we stood strong. Allies held firm.”
