Page 33 of A Heart of Crimson Flames
The guard behind me was almost within reaching distance now.
I smiled at him, the sickliest, sweetest smile. “I won’t,” I said with a pout. Then I did what I thought Maez would do in this situation—something brave, and bold, and cheeky.
I winked.
He paused, uncertain, while I whirled, kicking the closest soldier square between the legs. When I feigned to the right, the rest of the soldiers all went in the same direction to head me off even as I sprinted to the left. I just managed to skirt past their grasping hands and out of the circle of their blades, my blood pumping so hard I could feel it pulsing behind my eyes. I madeit to the chamber and slammed the door, barring it with the surprisingly sturdy lock before whirling to the window, the wood behind me thundering under the pummeling fists.
I raced to the window. From here, I could drop down to the balcony below, and from there, I could climb down the frozen trellis into the snow and make a dash for the forest in my furs. Once I shifted, there’s no way they could outrun me. I just needed to beat them to the ground.
I climbed out of the window too hastily and my foot slipped on the icy balcony. I went tumbling sideways, cracking my ribs onto the frozen stone and scrambling to cling on. My cheek slammed hard into the railing, and amazingly I didn’t topple over the side. I tasted the copper tang of blood in my mouth as my chest heaved. Each breath stabbed into me.
I’ll heal if I can shift.
If, if, if...
I heard the door above me give way and the soldiers spilled into the bathing chamber above.
Shit.
I scrambled to the trellis, my body screaming at me as the soldiers shouted orders to one another from up above. I just had to get down, just had to shift and I’d heal and be fine. Three more steps and I’d jump, even if it was too high, the shift would make me survive the fall...
A hand grabbed the back of my dress and roughly yanked me upward. I screamed, losing my grip on the trellis. I dangled by the fabric of my dress, the thin fabric ripping. That sound was my savior, letting me focus. I tucked my chin in, lifting my arms, lace scraping against my skin as I fell out of the dress and plummeted to the snow below.
I thanked all the Gods that I had been right about the fresh powder. I stumbled, disoriented, to my feet in nothing but a thin cream slip. The world spun, a voice shouting in my mind to shift, but I couldn’t control my limbs. I was tackled to the side before I could regain my senses.
Snow seared across my raw skin.
“I got her!” a soldier shouted as he scrambled on top of me and pinned me into the snow.
I scratched at his face, feral, as he laughed. I couldn’t buck him. He didn’t even bother to grab my wrists or restrain me, just used his weight to hold me down so tightly I couldn’t take a deep breath, already tough because of the injury to my ribs. He crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face as he arched a brow at me.
“What now, Crimson Princess?” he mocked, wiggling on top of me and squeezing the air from my lungs. “Go on, shift. I dare you.” With each laugh it compressed my stomach more, the ice crunching and snow groaning beneath us. I bared my teeth at him, and he chuckled. “What are you going to do?”
“Show you why there’s crimson in my name,” I gasped out.
Confused, he didn’t perceive the threat. Fast as a striking ostekke, I grabbed the lowest knife from the bandolier that crossed his chest and lifted up to drive it into the side of his neck. I twisted, raking the blade in an unclean cut across his throat until rivers of steaming blood poured down on me.
His hand flew to his throat, grasping and choking on his own blood. He toppled sideways, shifting into his Wolf form, trying to save himself, but the wound was fatal.
I kept a white-knuckled grip on the knife as I pushed up from the snow. Heaving, I prepared for more attackers, but there were none. Someone slowly clapped from behind me, the sound eerily jovial amidst the carnage.
I turned to see her standing there—Maez.
Her eyes were so filled with violent green I couldn’t see their true color anymore as they darted to look at the five decapitated bodies circling her. I hadn’t even heard their deaths, so quick, so silent.
Her gaze dipped down to my slip, coated in steaming blood. “Crimson Princess indeed,” she mused, something akin to pride in her voice. A thrill ran through me at the look in her eyes. “You fight well, mate. I didn’t know there was bloodlust in you.”
I turned and stared at the dead Wolf in the snow—the one I had killed.
I had killed.
And she’d called mematefor it.
“The Onyx Wolves have made their move, it seems. They’re taking Taigos,” Maez said. “I can’t stay here anymore.”
All the blood drained from my face. “What?” Taigos couldn’t fall to the hands of the Onyx Wolves; Calla needed them as allies or, at least, not as staunch enemies. How could the Golden Court manage to wage a war against the rest of the entire continent?
Maez’s eyes narrowed at me. “Do you want to stay here or come with me?”
