Gravesley rolls his eyes with a scoff. “You’re nothing to her.”
“You wound me.” I dramatically clutch my chest.
He yanks the dagger free, and I feel a rivulet of blood seep into my shirt.
“You don’t know pain. Not yet. Being stuck in this castle with you and your broody repetitive pity party about the curse hasbeen torture, and I’ve had a century to dream up exactly how I would get back at you once I was freed.”
“Do your fucking worst,” I rasp out, trying to push past the pain clouding my vision.
“Oh, I will.”
“No, actually, you won’t.”
My eyes widen when I see Azalea stand tall behind Gravesley, right before she plunges my sword directly through his heart.
I watch in sick fascination as the malicious gleam in Gravesley’s eyes dims and dies out. His body slumps and Azalea releases the handle of the blade letting him fall to the ground.
“Holy fuck,” I fall onto my back, my hand applying pressure to the wound on my side that continues to ooze blood. “You killed him.”
Azalea is breathing heavy in front of me. “I did.”
I’m not sure how she was able to do that with the spell Dianthus put on him, and my only conclusion is that he wasn’t able to begin healing himself with the near instant fatality the wound caused. I silently count my lucky stars that Azalea went directly for the heart.
“You were supposed to run away and get yourself somewhere safe.” My tone is scolding and she plants her hands on her hips.
“You’re welcome,” she bites back, and I can’t help but smirk. Accompanied by an eye roll, she reaches forward and helps me sit up before throwing one of my arms over her shoulder and bringing me to stand.
“I didn’t think you actually had it in you to kill someone. I figured if you did, you would’ve killed me a while ago.” My voice is weakening.
She shrugs. “He shouldn’t have touched my dog.”
Azalea turns a corner, and my brow furrows as my feet drag lazily in step with her. My strength depletes with each laboredstep, and it’s only further exasperated as I try to keep up with Azalea’s determined pace.
“Wait, where are we going?” I ask, trying to talk around the stinging ache in my side.
“To the infirmary,” she says sounding dumbfounded. “You’re bleeding all over the floor.”
“No.” Though I’m losing my strength with each step, my voice is firm. “I don’t know who we can trust.”
“Well, where do you suggest we go then to keep you from bleeding out.”
“My study.” I know it’s the only place I can lock us in and figure out what just happened.
“Fine,” Azalea grunts. “But if you die it’s not my fault.”
“Deal.”
“So does this mean you trust me?” she asks.
“You very well might be the only person in this castle I can trust. Does this mean you trust me?”
She smiles at me, and without missing a beat says, “Not even a little.” But her words don’t hold their usual bite.
44
Azalea
“Ohfuckyou,”Iscoff as Braxton holds a needle out to me. He gives me an exasperated look. We were finally able to slow the bleeding in his stab wound, and now he needs it to be stitched up before he wraps it tightly. “What, because I’m a woman, you assume I know how to sew?”
