Page 130 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
"I’m Armen. Although, I’m sure you’ve heard of me," he said with a wink.
Laurince shrugged, though his fingers twitched at his sides. "Name doesn’t ring a bell, actually."
Armen clicked his tongue in dismay and looked at Myra. He pressed a palm to his chest. "Ouch, Mys. That hurts."
Myra stood there dumbfounded.
"What? Are you not happy to see me?"
"W-why are you here? I thought you were in Pontia," Myra finally forced out. Her eyes dipped over the armor he wore. Not a single scratch marked the metal. Was it new? It looked different.
Armen smirked. "It’s a long story. Perhaps we should sit and chat, no? I think we have some time."
As he stepped further into the light, the shadows followed him.
Myra stumbled backward. Her back hit the table as she gasped in horror.
She had been wrong. Those were not shadows at all. Instead, dark, webbed wings twitched behind him as Armen strolled forward. The corners of his new wings bent as he forced them to fit through the door.
"The staff really needs to work on widening these doors," Armen said, glancing around the pink and purple room.
"Why?" Myra squeaked, her attention fixed on the wings. How many victims had fallen prey to the serum? Armen and Myra might not have been a couple anymore, but she had cared about him once. "Why did you do it?"
Armen swiped a finger over his lips and revealing a smug look. "The king gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse."
Myra’s heart cracked, the consequences of her actions once again slapped her across the face.
Armen turned to Rian, who had been maneuvering toward the other side of the room. "Don’t even get me started on what King Domitius will give me when I handyouover to him."
"That’s if he’s still alive," Rian spat.
Myra prayed Rian was right.
Armen’s lips parted, a retort on the tip of his tongue, but before he could voice it, Laurince charged, sword in hand. Armen ripped his sword from its sheath and blocked Laurince’s attack.
"Shit," Rian hissed, unsheathing his sword.
Laurince and Armen swung, their blades clashing with each strike, with each block. Rian bounced from one foot to the other, trying to find the best time to join the fight.
Laurince’s sword crashed into Armen’s, and his muscles strained against the fabric of his shirt as he braced himself. He spotted Myra out of the corner of his eye. "Get out of here!"
Myra hesitated, her heart racing and panic surging through her.
"Not without you!" Rian ran forward. But before he could reach Laurince, two more guards filtered into the room. One man bore charcoal-feathered wings, and the other had small brown ones.
"You should have left when you had the chance, Your Highness," the first guard hissed with a saccharine smile.
"Fucking traitors," Rian spat. He charged, his sword held high.
"Myra, go!" Laurince shouted in between attacks.
But Myra refused to abandon him. He hadn’t left her behind, so she wouldn’t either.
Myra palmed her small knife and stormed toward the other guard with the smaller set of wings. She repeated Laurince’s training over and over in her mind.
Elbows up. Legs spread apart. Balance even.
When the guard saw her coming, he grinned, amused. "Stupid?—"
