She yanks the door wide and runs.
Alaya
I’ve never known a terror this absolute. The King’s presence saturates the room, a power so heavy it feels like water filling my lungs, making every breath a struggle. When his hand closes around me, my heart stutters and stops. I don’t just fear death—I feel it pressing against my skin.
I try to come to terms with it while Kiernan stands before me, his stare hard and cold. What mask will he wear to kill me? I’ve seen his power in action, and without a Gift to Amplify, it will tear me apart.
“No!” Kiernan roars, and my heart skips.
I’m thrown sideways towards the door. I barely grab the handle in time to stop my fall but manage to keep myself upright.
“Leave,” the King snarls.
I look instinctively to Kiernan. He nods.
“Go.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I pull with all my strength, the door flies open, and I run.
My breaths come quick and ragged as I sprint towards my suite. As I reach for the door handle, the terror begins to ebb—and guilt creeps in.
I left him there alone.
If anyone can handle the King’s wrath, it’s Kiernan. He’s grown up with this, learnt to navigate his father’s moods, to survive the most powerful Earthbound Fae in existence.
I’m nothing. No one. Which makes me all kinds of crazy when I find myself walking back towards the King’s personal office. I’m not sure what I expect to do, whether it’s pure idiocy or these conflicting feelings for Kiernan driving me, but here I am, standing outside that door again. I don’t knock. I don’t try to enter.
Muffled voices rise from the other side. I’m about to knock when I hear it—a dull crack of wood against flesh, then a groan.
It continues.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
The groans become more pronounced with each strike, then fall silent. Footsteps approach the door. I panic, spotting a small alcove down the hall. I press myself into its shadows, praying they don’t come this way.
King Malaxor leaves first, striding away in the opposite direction. Moments later, the door opens again. Kiernan emerges, holding his robe, pulling down his white shirt as he walks after his father. I cover my mouth to stifle any sound. I want to cry out when I see the bright red blood seeping through the back of his shirt.
I step from the alcove and follow at a distance.
He strides down the hall with purpose, shrugging into his robe to cover the shirt now saturated with blood. When he reaches his suite, his hand rising to the knob, I call out.
“Kiernan.”
His hand freezes. He turns his head towards me, looking at me from beneath sweat-damp tendrils of hair. A sheen of sweat covers his face. One corner of his mouth rises.
“Why am I not surprised you didn’t listen when I told you to go?” He sighs.
“I did. I ran as far and fast as I could,” I admit, my voice still shaking. “I would have run straight through the main gate into the Barrens if I could. But I couldn’t. Not now.”
“You should, Alaya.” His voice is hollow, defeated. “Get as far from here as you can. From him and from me.”
“Did he beat you?” The words catch in my throat. “Is that why your back is bleeding?”
