Surprise and fury had them soaring, landing in a heap before the stairs. The look of utter shock on his handsome face made her want to purr.
“Prince,” she snarled mockingly before scrambling to her feet. She needed to lead everyone out. If they stayed in that room, they were dead. Two rebels had taken heed of her cry and were racing around her, up the stairs past the incoming water out into the sea. She shouted out again at the remaining rebels, but her words were cut short when wet fingers wrapped around her ankle, giving one sharp wrench. Arms grasping at thin air, she went down hard, ribs and chin cracking against the concrete stairs.
The impact deflated her lungs with a whoosh, and then the prince was straddling her. Knees shoved tight against her sides, his weight heavy on her middle. Pulse pounding, a crazed sort of flight or fight ran rampant in her.
“Hello, sweet liar,” the prince murmured, his green eyes lighting in the dark.
Water continued to pour in, careening down the stairs, soaking her once more. Her nostrils flared beneath her mask, only her narrowed eyes peeking out. She had expected him to know it was her, he’d tracked her here after all. But that just meant he should’ve known better than to have such a sloppy hold.
Wrapping her arms around his center, she yanked him closer, hissing in his ear. “My love.” Only to shove her hips up, twisting and toppling back over him. She grinned beneath her mask.
It’d been a beautiful reversal, really.
Fingers still covered in another man’s blood, she crashed her fist into the prince’s jaw. His lips curled up, unfazed by her violence, so she hit him again, right on his pretty mouth. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the king’s men draggingtheir victims to the door.Time to go.She let loose one more punch, cracking his skull against the stairs, but the prince just grinned, a dark laugh shaking his chest.
Blood speckled on his lips, he lifted his head. “Run, little liar, run.”
His words slithered inside her chest, squeezing her fear-filled heart. Leaping away, she was at the top of the stairs when it started. The sea began to win the war against the stronghold’s magic, pouring in heavy and fast, ready to drown and ruin. She looked at the wrecked trapdoor waiting for her to dive through and escape into the sea.
But Jessa’s prone body flashed through her mind. She’d lost count by now, but there were still other rebels down there. Both conscious and unconscious, succumbing to their execution instead of fighting to get out. Whipping back around, she spied one of the king’s vultures crouched next to the prince. She wasn’t sure how many of the king’s men were still fighting, but hopefully, at least a few of them were still out cold.
Feet nimble and sure this time, she raced down the stairs, grabbing a hatchet off of the prince’s leather harness as she went. Taking the blunt end, she slammed it into the temple of the king’s man, not bothering to stop as he pitched sideways down to the ground.
Standing in the doorway, she shouted. “Grab a body and get out, the water is coming.”
She watched someone grab Jessa, then fixed her attention elsewhere. Taking hold of a short but muscular man under the armpits, she heaved, aiming for the stairs. Bump by bump, she dragged him, her lower back straining and water hitting her hard. Twice, she nearly lost her step on the drenched stairs, but she was almost there.
The prince was nowhere to be found. Maybe he’d gone after the escaped rebels, or maybe he just didn’t give a shit whetheranyone but himself lived or died. In the grand scheme of the Crown, it didn’t matter whether the cursed traitors drowned or died in the square. And the king’s men were replaceable. Broken, bloodthirsty men always were. Either way, it seemed the prince had fled, leaving Elysia to a watery grave.
She could hear people scrabbling below, but she’d done all she could. Their grace had run dry, and the Crown’s unconscious men would wake with vengeance in their bones at any moment. She dove into the sea, arms wrapped around the man’s chest, kicking wildly. The trapdoor had been in waist deep water beneath the docks, but the sea was angry now—vicious and thrashing as she reclaimed her domain.
Adrenaline was all Elysia had left. She swam hard, feeling as though each kick required strength she did not have to give until finally, waves around her legs, she could walk. What had felt like a short distance when she first walked out beneath the docks now seemed to be an eternity. Her back and shoulders strained, lugging the waterlogged man in her arms even as the water rocked against her.
But then there was sand. So much glorious sand. A cry broke free from her lips as her now bare feet touched the slick, packed down shore.I made it, I made it.She did not stop. Heavy step after heavy step, she dragged the rebel until she finally reached the place where the tides did not touch. Dropping him, she collapsed onto her hands and knees, chest heaving and limbs shaking.
The gods gifted her one whole moment of sweet relief, and then there was a laugh that made her skin prickle. Head turning, a large boot connected with her face. Her teeth bit through tongue, blood filling her mouth as she flew backward, landing hard against the sand. Before she could so much as put her hands to the ground, another harsh blow broke against her ribs.Vomit rose in her throat and she retched, bile burning as it escaped.
Bare arms wrapped around her middle, and she tried to roll away. Short, wet gasps fell out of her mouth while blinding pain scored through her entire being, confusing her senses.
I can’t breathe.The man was a looming shadow over the top of her now. His movements were slow and sure, the same as any animal when their prey rattles with death.
Tears blurred her vision. She had no idea which of the king’s men he was—he could have been any of them. And it didn’t really matter, did it?
His knees hit the sand with a soft thud. Leering, he stared down at her. “Does the magic make you stupid?” Drawing his elbow behind him, he rocked her face back with another punch, his fist practically the size of her face. Stars danced in her eyes briefly and then her vision was gone entirely in the one. He was talking, she was sure, but she couldn’t think, couldn’t hear.
“Should have run when you had the chance.”
Her skin split beneath his knuckles once more, but then he was grabbing for her mask and the sheer panic of discovery blazed through her like lightning. It numbed every broken bone and soothed the raw nerves of pain branching through her body.
Elysia screamed her defiance out into the open shores, shocking him with her guttural, wordless cry. There was no special maneuver or class to what she did—her body just knew it needed to survive this man, this night. Bashing her already wrecked face against his, she raked her nails down his sea-dampened cheeks. The man fell away from her, clutching his face and cursing. Stealing the man’s knife out of its holster, she plunged it straight into his throat. Hot blood spurted out the edges, his own personal fountain of death, hitting Elysia in the chest and face. Bloodied, she clambered to her feet wildly,tripping her way out of the sand and sprinting and panting toward the city.
Tears streamed down her face as she bit back sobs. Every breath burned like heated knives in her chest. Clutching her ribs, she forced her functioning eye to stay open and just kept putting one foot in front of the other. Nothing mattered as long as she kept moving. If she stopped, she would be dead.
Her broken breath and mind became one mantra.I will not die. I will not die tonight. Over and over, she sang this song through the old city and its wet, cobbled streets. It was all a blur as she pounded past. The creamy arched and sloping buildings all riddled with grime—the bright doors that refused to give up their color to the soot. She saw none of it. Her thoughts devolved to ill-formed, incoherent things.Not die, not night.
She ran until she could run no more, and when she stopped, she found herself staggering up to the door of the House Gardenia. One arm still wrapped around her aching ribs, the other rapped out two weak knocks, leaving behind dark smudges of blood on the green paint.
She just had to keep breathing. She did not even have to run any longer.Her single open eye closed, dimming the world to black. Plastering a hand against the doorframe, she gritted her teeth, fighting to stay conscious. But the black was more than just her closed eyes, it was all around her, pulling her far from the pain.
