Pausing, I rip the chain from my neck and drop the amulet into my pants pocket, nulling the desire to use it. With another steadying breath, I approach the door.
It’s already open, just a sliver, giving me a glimpse inside. Sera said there were two men inside, but the room is unnaturally still. I push on the door, testing for any creaks, but when it slides open with ease, I nudge into the room, arrow first. The only sounds that fill the space are from outside, screaming and clanging. My heart lurches.
I should be down there.
There’s another window just across from me, and that’s where I find him.
Roman.
“You,” he says without turning from the window. “So you’re alive after all?”
With shaking fingers, I aim my arrow straight at his back.
He turns, his face is pale, his eyes red. “If you’ve come to kill me, just do it.” There’s no emotion in his voice, but when his eyes dart to the bed, his face crumples.
I follow his line of sight and struggle not to fall to my knees.
Galen’s body is on the bed, not an ounce of life left in his face. My chest tightens, and when my grip on my bow loosens, I don’t scramble to grab it.
“I’ve done many unthinkable things,” Roman whispers. His boots are heavy as he passes by me to sit on the end of the bed. “But this may be the worst yet.”
My throat burns, and when I look at Roman again, he is sitting with one hand on Galen’s chest.
I can’t breathe.
The voices outside grow louder, their shouts incoherent. The amulet pulses in my pocket, begging to be used, but I drop my bow and draw my hand to the blade tucked into my boot. My fingers tremble as they wrap around the hilt. This is my lastchance to make him see. My last chance to let him make one right choice.
I spring to my feet, the dagger poised between my fingers. It takes me two steps to reach him and a half a breath before the dagger is tucked under his chin. His eyes meet mine but he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t fight back as I dig the blade a little deeper.
“Make his death mean something, Roman.”
He closes his eyes, his face aged since I saw him only a few days ago.
“Make it count. Call off your guards.”
He leans into my blade, letting it dig further into his flesh as he laughs. “If you think they’ll listen to me, you haven’t been paying attention,” he says. “They will follow Galen’s allegiance, even in his death.”
He grabs my hand and pulls the dagger toward him, aiming right for his heart. “If you’re not going to do it, I will.”
He pushes the blade deeper but I rip my hand away and shove him backward. The blade falls to the floor and I scramble to reach it, but Roman is quicker.
He knocks me out of the way, fisting the blade. He stands before I can and turns, pressing his boot to my chest. He opens his mouth, perhaps some final words lingering on his lips. The blade is pressed tightly to his throat, his boot pressed tightly to my chest, and I’m paralyzed by it all.
Elora.
Galen and Loxley and the Wicked Wood.
The Fates and my life before this one.
And Elora.
Because it always starts and ends with her.
She is the moon in my sky and I will not leave here without a kingdom to present at her feet.
My head is swimming, my heart pounding, and just when Roman moves, I charge him, tackling him to the floor. I sigh in relief as the metal clink of a blade hits the floor just out of reach.
Forty-Nine
