“Always did.” Malakai spat, crimson painting the gravel at their boots.
They snickered. “Are you so certain?”
“He’s as much of a coward as his father,” the other muttered as she prowled. She spun her ax around her hand lazily.
“That incapable fool,” the first responded, reaching out with a toying strike at Malakai that he met easily. “He couldn’t even dispose of his greatest mistake.”
“We should have killed you both years ago, Warrior Prince.”
At the title, Malakai froze, eyes wild and panicked.
His knuckles turned white around his sword, joints locking. And I saw his memory tunneling back to those years he spent under their care. It was barely a moment before he snapped back to himself, but it was all the Engrossians needed.
They launched at him, the female knocking aside his sword, theman pinning his shoulders to the ground. The buckles of his armor snapped beneath their fingers.
Blades rose over his skin.
I ran, but my path was blocked by a wraithlike opponent, long, thin arms each swinging an ax.
He struck out, and I ducked, looking below his arm to see Malakai get kicked in the side. The woman dropped her ax, a small blade appearing in her hand.
I swiveled around my own opponent, barely fighting back, just trying to get past him. I couldn’t focus enough to land my own blow—not with their taunts still reaching me.
Every carving on Malakai’s skin flashed through my mind. Every scar that I’d mapped these weeks, every shadow, and every wince he fought off in our own training.
These sick bastards knew. They knew what he’d survived, knew what taunts had been wielded at him. Had maybe committed some of the heinous torture themselves.
And they weren’t done.
Malakai had never completed the Undertaking. He was likely weaker than either warrior attacking him now, let alone two combined?—
A blow struck my chest, winding me.
As maniacal smiles split the faces of the warriors over Malakai, I swore: Whether I used blades or bare hands, no Engrossians would ever hurt Malakai again.
Looking back to my own opponent, I charged. Met one strike. Two. Then, jabbed Angelborn in his thigh.
Wrenching her free, I shoved him away. I didn’t stop to finish the job, spinning back toward Malakai?—
But someone else was already there.
Barrett.
Dax and the two guards we’d left them with rushed into the fight, too. The prince held a sword in his chained hands, the two Engrossians staring in disbelief.
“Your Highness?” the female asked, her slim blade nearly falling from her fingers.
“The one and only.” He looked to Malakai on the ground, thenback at his warriors. “I wish I could say it was pleasant to meet two of my own.”
“You’ve been imprisoned?” the other Engrossian asked, eyeing Barrett’s chains and taking a step toward the prince.
But Barrett backed away. Guarded Malakai.
“I broke out of one cage.” He flexed his fingers around the grip. “I’m earning my way out of the other.” With that, Barrett swung his sword at his own man. He stumbled back, confusion and reluctance slowing his response.
“Come with us,” he reasoned, ax hanging loosely at his side. “We’ll get you home.”
Barrett swung again, awkwardly given his cuffed hands. “I no longer have a home.”
