Page 152 of Lady of the Drowned Empire
“Maybe it would have,” I said, my hand shaking, “if you’d actually told anyone I was here. Or if you were supposed to be where you were.”
“GUARDS!” Brockton screamed. His nostrils flared, and I could smell the fear pulsing in his aura.
“Lyr,” Rhyan said. “I’ll do it.”
I shook my head. This man, this monster, had violated me, stripped me, humiliated and touched me. I’d believed he’d raped Jules, and he’d tortured Rhyan in the habibellum.
This one was mine.
Behind Brockton, Rhyan’s shoulders tensed as he gave me a sharp, single nod. It was time to end it.
“You bitch!” Brockton spat, blood flying from his mouth. He leaned forward, somehow escaping Rhyan’s hold, produced a dagger I hadn’t seen, and thrusted it forward. Pain sliced through my leg. I felt the blood running down my knee and calf, pooling in my boot as I stumbled.
Rhyan’s hands moved to Brockton’s head. He was going to snap his neck.
I felt dizzy, and as I stepped forward, I nearly stumbled. He’d cut my leg, and I was already bleeding heavily. I wasn’t going to be able to stand much longer. But I was going to end him.
I had both hands on the hilt of Rhyan’s sword and my eyes on Brockton’s heart.
"She's alive," he spat. "But if I die, she dies, too."
I thrust the blade beneath his armor, in and up, grunting as I pushed it through, surprised at the effort needed. I used all the strength I had left, my fingers numbing as I twisted the sword, tears blurring my vision.
Brockton’s eyes closed, and he fell with a thud, nearly taking me with him. I was barely standing as it was.
Rhyan jumped out to help me, his arms wrapping around me from behind, his hand guiding the sword free from my loose grip.
“The hell’s going on?” came a shout from outside the door. “Lord Brockton?”
“We need to go, Lyr,” Rhyan said quietly. “Now!”
I nodded, seeing what we’d done. What I’d done. The gruesome deaths. I looked back at the pole, at the sliced ropes, the ends of which were still around my wrist. I looked back at what had almost happened.
Footsteps marched down the hall.
Rhyan was racing around the room, sheathing my dagger, bunching up my ruined shift and tunic, hastily wrapping my cloak around me, buckling my armor, reclasping Asherah’s chest plate around my neck.
He wasn’t just collecting my things, I realized. He was removing evidence—removing all signs that anyone aside from the wolves of Ka Kormac had been inside this room.
I used the moment to grab a blade, and sliced what remained of the ropes from my wrists. I let them fall on Brockton’s body.
After Rhyan made a final sweep, he scooped his arm beneath my knees, heading for the window. “Don’t look, Lyr,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
I wrapped my hands behind his neck, buried my face against him, and squeezed my eyes shut, feeling my heart try to pound its way through my chest. Rhyan raced for the broken windows. I opened my eyes just long enough to see him stepping around the dead soturi. Trey, Geoffrey, and Brett.
Holding me with one arm, he leapt onto the windowsill, his boots crunching on the shattered glass pieces. He grabbed for the upper ledge, holding on for balance, before dropping down onto the balcony.
The cold dry air was harsh against my face, and I could hear the breaking of metal—the slamming open of the door, and the shouts of alarm the wolves of Vrukshire Keep discovered the carnage we’d left behind.
Rhyan raced across the stone, staying close to the keep’s outer walls. The balcony twisted and turned and around a turret. Alarm bells from within began to ring. Down below, soturi were hollering orders at each other, organizing into units, heading to the gates to keep anyone from leaving. Others were being sent inside. It only took a minute before a massive search party for the killers—for us—was underway.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Rhyan ran faster as more alarm bells sounded. The keep of Ka Kormac was on full alert.
“Almost there, partner.” Rhyan pulled me tighter against him. “I’ve got you. We’re getting out of here.”
We reached a corner, the balcony rounding the bend. From there, Rhyan traveled. I clutched him as tightly as I could, my stomach feeling like it was being pulled out of me. His knees bent, his boots hitting the frozen grounds. We were just outside the gates. Vrukshire Keep behind us.
