Page 226 of Damsel in Disguise

The scream seems to wake the remaining guards from their shock. Their commander is bleeding. Their founder has fallen.

For one desperate moment, they still choose loyalty. Some flee the scene, and several of them reach for their weapons.

They never get the chance to use them. The men who entered with my brothers starts finishing the rest with brutal efficiency.

Alistair drops forward, faster than he should be able to, one arm snapping out as if his body refuses to obey the injury, and the bullet hits him somewhere already broken.

He collapses to one knee. Then the floor.

Amongst everything, there’s only sound—my own screams breaking apart.

Even wounded, even disarmed, the Crown still found a way.

Before the handgun leaves his grasp completely, another shot explodes through the laboratory.

And once again, Alistair shielded me with his body. The second bullet strikes him instead of me.

If I could blame the first one on instinct, on miscalculation, on a lifetime of protecting the wrong things, then I’ve no such excuse left for the second.

This time, he knew exactly what he was doing—he chose me. Again.

“Alistair, no…” I fall on my knees with him, trying to hold him up.

Adrian catches my arm, trying to pull me back, but I refuse to let go of him. Because my entire world is on the ground.

Before either of my brothers can react, Alistair’s hand slips to the suppressor tucked in his back.

His fingers close around it with frightening familiarity.

The gun rises as the shot lands squarely in the Crown’s chest.

He staggers backward before his body finally crashes against the unforgiving floor with a loud thud. Like something inside him has finally been proven wrong.

That’s when I notice only a handful of us are still standing.

Somehow, Alistair forces himself upright. His legs shake beneath him. Blood keeps seeping through the fresh injuries.

Yet he looks at Asher and Adrian as though they are the ones standing in his way. “Let me have the honor.”

I try to go after him, but Asher catches my arm and holds me where I am.

“No,” he says quietly. “Let him.”

62. COMPLETION

alistair

One hand remains pressed against the wound in my torso while the other hangs at my side with the suppressor still clenched between my fingers.

Blood slips through my hand with every step I take, leaving a dark trail across the laboratory floor that once represented everything the Dominion wanted me to become.

It seems fitting that the empire should drown in the blood of the weapon it created.

I drag myself toward the man who murdered my mother like gravity has lost permission to stop me.

The sirens continue screaming somewhere beyond the laboratory walls. Smoke hangs in the air. Some men are shouting outside the room.

I cannot spare any of them my attention.