Page 90 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
Fear overwhelmedMyra’s trembling frame. The pain at the back of her head had only marginally subsided in the time that had passed. Her wrists burned from the rope digging into her flesh.
As the leaves crunched only a few paces away, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Panic surged through her as her captor’s emotions wafted off him. Impatience, hunger, greed. But it was the feeling beneath those that scared her the most. Something more wicked and sinister.
She pressed her head back against the tree, trying to get as far away as she could. Still, the man came closer. His hot breath scorched her neck, sending a terrifying chill spiraling down her back.
"Hey," the second man called out, "what are you?—"
"Hush," the man closest to her spat. "Perhaps our little friend here needs some convincing."
Myra heard something slide against leather. Then a sharp tip pressed against her knee, the pressure not strong enough to pierce but enough to be present.
"I wonder if we’ve made a mistake. Maybe you’re not as precious to King Rian as we first thought," her captor whispered. His emotions whipped around her, red-hot and searing. A wickedness slithered beneath that turned her stomach.
"No response? Hmm. Perhaps you need some convincing." He dragged the blade higher up her thigh, increasing the pressure with each passing inch.
The blade ripped through her trousers, the fabric tearing, the sound like a crack of thunder. The tip broke skin, the pain bright. She choked back a sob. She would not cry. She would not?—
Snap.
The man froze.
"What was that?" the other man asked with a slight tremble.
Myra stopped breathing.
She wanted to be wrong. Laurince and Rian weren’t supposed to come. Not for her, never for her. She didn’t want to endanger either of them, yet somehow, even before he revealed himself, she knewhewas there. Every nerve-ending sparked, her heart thundered, and relief flooded her chest at the sound of his voice.
"Release her," Laurince demanded, his tone even sharper and deadlier than the blade that had just touched her skin.
The man jerked away. "Grab her," he demanded.
Myra was jostled as cold metal kissed her throat. A high-pitched, muffled yelp slipped from her lips as he held the blade steady. Tears stained the blindfold.
"Did you not hear me?" Laurince asked. "I saidrelease her."
"We’ll gladly give her over if you give us King Rian," the man, who was now a few feet away, said.
Myra jerked in the other man’s grasp, a muffled shout slipping around the gag as she tried to tell Laurince to turn around, that she wasn’t worth it.
"Shut it," her captor hissed in her ear, the metal cold on her skin.
"Do you see a king with me?" Laurince asked.
Thank the gods,Myra thought.
But the relief was fleeting. Without Rian, Laurince was outnumbered. Even if Myra wasn’t tied up, she would have been useless in a fight.
"Do not play dumb with us. We know you’re traveling with him. That little innkeeper confirmed it." He clicked his tongue. "There’s a pretty penny for that little red head of his—dead or alive. Although we’ll get more if we bring him back alive."
"Just give me the girl," Laurince commanded, "and maybe I’ll let you leave here alive."
"I don’t think you’re in a position to make threats," the man said, his tone sharpening. "Plus, I don’t think I’ve had my fill of her yet. Not even a taste, really. We were just getting started, weren’t we?"
The tip of the blade pierced Myra’s skin, and Myra gasped, choking on the gag as tears fell.
"I said,get your hands off her."
A whistle of air whipped past her ear. Myra froze as a wet scream sounded to her right, followed by a gurgle. Something splattered on her neck and face, and she squealed in horror as something dropped into her lap. The knife, she thought—shehoped. The tang of iron coated the air, and warm liquid soaked the sleeve of her shirt.
