Something inside her seemed to snap at the sight of him struggling. Flashes of men who had indeed taken advantage of her, ones she had played with for sport, the kings she’d killed and the men she’d slain just to get in a royal bed… She shook with the hatred of all of it combining together.
Blood poured from his wound, and Sam couldn’t speak. He tripped over the barstool and crashed to his knees, his face paling as he clutched the wound.
“Ana…”
Chest heaving, he coughed blood… Ana pushed off the top of the counter and strode in his direction. He watched with with pleading eyes, like she could somehow reverse it. But Ana was broken and tired, and the only obstacle between her and her crown was this man and her own staggering heart.
Sam grabbed her leg, pleading her name again when she paused before him. She reached a hand out, gripping his hair between her fingers, and she tugged his head up to look at her.
That beautiful fucking face.
And she hated him for it.
“Ana…”
The blade cut across his throat.
A scarlet waterfall poured over his chest. She couldn’t stop shaking as she watched him die before her, just as the others had…
The others…
As if he was one of them.
As if he was…
As if he wasnothing.
Nothing.
She couldn’t breathe. Her chest heaved with his waning eyes, and suddenly her heart began to cry out.
“Sam—“
As if suddenly realizing what she’d done.
He crippled out of her grasp onto the floor, cold eyes now staring into the shadows outside. Sam—Sam—
She’d killed him.Him. Someone who she had only hours before considered giving up her entire life for. Someone who had made her feel loved and challenged and desired. Someone she’d fallen in love with and for once…just once… wanted to live for.
She’d ripped out his heart and throat as though he’d been one of the Firemoor soldiers.
A wail left her that she hadn’t heard since her father died.
Sobbing. Crying.Choking.
She screamed, her grip tightening on his leather jacket like she could bring him back if she willed it so. Hoping her cries might rewind the last few minutes. Alter time to go back to when he was leaving, make herself simply kiss him goodbye instead of the cruel words she’d spoken to force herself to let him go.
She called out his name again, again, again. Staring through tear-filled eyes to his own, wishing she could see that smile in them. Remembering the way his gaze had always studied her like she was the only person in the world—liketheywere the only people in the world.
She’d killed him.
Sam wasdead.
He had shown her the sun, and she’d shown him death.
Everything in her broke. She wailed his name over and over, sobbing onto his face as she shattered over him, her forehead to his. Screaming for him to come back to her.
You killed him.
