I bite my tongue before the words leave my mouth. He doesn’t react. I swing a metal ball through the air and with a hush it lands on the man’s other hand. Because of the pain he is in, he doesn’t put up a fight.
I hear a click sound behind me, but I have to finish what I started first. I stand up, looking at the man, twisting and turning with his bloody stump. He lies stiller, the screaming gets less and less as every second passes because of the blood leaving his body. He deserves this, I tell myself. I lift my sword and with ease I pierce it through his heart. Blood gushes out of the wound. I pull the sword out and throw it on the ground. It makes a clattering sound. I turn around and spit on the floor, blood dripping over my chin. I hate myself for not having any trouble with living up to the title the King once crowned me with if it is for her. I hate how my body switches between disgust and relief.I hate the fact that Eliane might believe in that title as well. I wipe my bloody hands at my pants. I turn around as I do.
Two scared eyes meet mine.
Two honey brown eyes freeze as they watch me move.
As they watch the murderous monster in action. Fuck.
Chapter 35
Eliane
I don’t mean to, but a loud gasp escapes me. I clap my hand in front of my mouth as Braxton catches my stare. I stutter, trying to make words but they come out in a blur.
His eyes are on fire with rage I haven’t seen before, his body covered in blood. Behind him lies a man.
Dead.
One hand undone from his body.
The man who was in our nightmare.
“Brax,” I stutter, coughing the fear and the rising panic attack away. “What the fuck happened?”
“Let’s go,” he taunts, not giving me the satisfaction of answering.
He moves towards me.
I am frozen in the doorway as I take in the dead body.
Dead, the thing he tried to protect me from.
Now he is the monster who did it.
The monster who took a life.
I look up at his raging eyes.
“Let’s go,” he erupts again.
I shiver at the hard tone of his words. I might be sensitive, but he can’t force me into doing anything. I fold my arms together, lifting my chin. Two can play this commanding game.
“Not before you tell me what the fuck happened,” I bite back, reflecting his own rage with my eyes. He blinks his eyes, like he hasn’t heard me correctly. He scans me and at once I feel naked in my satin pajamas. His gaze is nothing like the Braxton I have learned to know. It burns me and not in a good way. His jaw ticks as fast as my heartbeat and his pupils are huge because of the anger in his eyes. I reach forward, my hand brushing away the splash of blood under his eyes.
He softens under my touch, eyes lightening. His jaw unlocks and he shakes his head, finally coming out of the trans.
“Fuck. I am sorry,” he whispers, avoiding my eye contact.
I would say it is fine, but as Da taught me, no man should talk to you that way. So all I do is shrug as I step to the side. He walks past me. The shift of energy pulls my gaze into his direction. As he strolls away, every step he takes gets weaker. I scan his back.
It is blood drenched.
And three knife stabs are the cause.
My feet hurry towards him.
“You need a healer,” I demand. He argues back at me as I hold on to his stumbling pace.
