Lady M strikes Cate across the face and I growl. Cate gets one good swipe in, knocking Lady M back a few steps, her dagger clattering to the floor. But Cate also dropped her weapon. Her eyes search the floor for it but are quickly pulled back to Lady M as she recovers and moves to slash at Cate with her second knife.
“Cate!” I find the right moment to call for her, when the distraction won’t cost her her life.
Her eyes immediately lock on mine, and I toss her a dagger, the red jewel embedded in the hilt smeared with a streak of blood the same color. I hope she can use it to fend off Lady M until I can make my way across the room. My stomach rips open further with every step I take, and the few feet separating us feel like miles. I know deep within my bones that I won’t make it to her on time, that Lady M is too strong and too quick for Cate to make it out of this unscathed.
The thought only pushes me forward, my stomach ripping in agony with every move.
Cate catches the dagger, using it to block the next strike aimed at her.
The next part seems to happen in slow motion.
Lady M punches Cate in the stomach, causing Cate to stagger back, gasping for breath. Her back hits the wall, the only thing keeping her upright.
I lunge toward them, but I stumble, falling to my knees. My hands are slippery with blood, as is the floor, and I can’t force myself back to my feet. She is so close, yet the distance between us is insurmountable.
Lady M raises her hand, the one holding the knife, its tip aimed right for Cate’s heart. I don’t know how a mother can take the life of her own child, but I know that she won’t hesitate to steal Cate from me.
I call out a useless warning, my gut burning fury and fear.
Cate blocks the strikes with her forearm, grimacing as the knife slices through her flesh. A trail of red blooms on her skin.
Lady M moves to try again, the knife rearing back with such force I’m surprised it doesn’t fly right out of her hand, finding a home in the heart I’ve come to cherish so deeply.
But someone blocks her. Even as a guttural cry rips through me, a shadow moves in so quickly it takes a minute to realize Harold has finally made it. He grabs his wife’s wrists with a strength I didn’t know he had. Lady M drops her knife, but she brings her knee up, striking Harold right in the groin.
He drops his hold on her, staggering back. Whatever energy he entered the fight with seems to have already been depleted. Cate lunges, aiming for Lady M once again, her dagger finally back in hand. Lady M waits until the last minute to dodge the blow, but the force of Cate’s strike is too much to pull back. She stumbles forward under the weight of it and her knife makes contact.
Cate’s dagger finds its home, inside Harold’s chest.
Her eyes widen in disbelief, in horror, her hands covering her mouth, though it’s not enough to dampen her scream.
I push myself further, but she’s still so far away.
Harold falls, the knife still protruding from his heart. Cate watches, frozen and unmoving for a minute before she kneels by his side, takes his hand in hers. She leans over him and his hand drifts up to cup her cheek.
I’m too far away to hear the words whispered between them, and I’m glad for it. His final words will forever be embedded in her heart.
Harold smiles, though it’s pained. His eyes fall closed. His chest stops moving.
I listen for Cate’s cries, but they are drowned out by the wail coming from Lady M. Her mouth drops open in shock, though I’m not sure if it’s due to her husband’s death or the fact that it actually emotionally affects her.
She staggers, like some force has physically knocked her back. Her chest heaves with uneven breaths and she has to brace herself against the wall. She pushes Cate out of the way, her body draping itself over Harold’s as if it could shield him from what’s already come to pass. She seems to forget in this moment that this is what she planned for all along, that she was poisoning the man her soul is supposed to be bound to.
For a single, solitary click of a second, I feel sorry for her. With the agony of losing her Bonded husband, even her cold heart must have shattered.
Before any of us can move, before any of us have the chance to use this moment of her grief to our advantage, she rips the dagger from his chest and pushes herself up from the stone floor. “This isn’t over,” she whispers to Cate, ice coating her words. With one final look at her dead husband, she stumbles from the room, her keening cries echoing through the halls, the bloody knife leaving a dripping trail in her wake.
Cate doesn’t move, doesn’t try to leave Harold’s side. Until her eyes meet mine. Hers are full of tears.
She staggers over to me, collapsing in a puddle next to me. Her arm is bleeding heavily, but she comes for me, her hands pressing to the open wound at my stomach.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she mutters the refrain tearfully, over and over and over. “You should have been the one. I’m so sorry, Callum. What have I done?”
I grasp her cheek with my hand, wincing at the smear of blood I leave on her skin. “Stop. You’re alive. That’s all that matters. I love you, Cate, so much.”
“I love you too, Cal. I need to get Bianca.” The words come out as barely a gasp, her face going scarily pale. She tries to rise but can’t get her feet under her.
My vision blurs, but I try to help her stand. I search for the source of her bleeding to stanch it, but it’s hard to tell whose blood is whose, and where it’s all coming from.
