I pulled my dagger from his neck, then ripped him by the collar of his shirt to stand up.
He groaned in agony as I shoved him back and his spine collided with the stone. I held him against the wall with my forearm and aimed my blade at his throat with the other hand. He didn't even try to fight back. I had well over two feet on him in height, and muscle mass that he couldn't even challenge.
“Tell me why you hurt her,now,” I demanded through gritted teeth, while putting enough pressure on his chest that he couldn't take a deep breath.
“I simply offered her one more chance to turn herself over to King Beaumont,” Lucan sputtered. “She even considered taking it for a moment, too,” he sniped, his voice dry from struggling to inhale.
“Maeve would never consider that.” I shookmy head.
“But she did.”
She wouldn't. Would she? Her and I just talked about this, and I thought we were on the same page.
“I told her if she declined, that there would be consequences.” Lucan shrugged, his eyes peering over at the pool of blood Maeve left behind. “Clearly she rejected the offer.” He chortled.
That was it. I'd had it with his snide sense of humor. Nothing about this was fucking funny. Time to finish the job so that I could make sure she was okay.
She better fucking be okay.
“You're not going to tell me anything more, are you?” I asked, accepting the defeat that he wasn't going to divulge any information to me.
The king's former advisor shook his head, and as he did, I plunged my dagger straight into his throat. The blade twisted in my hand, the sounds of cartilage cracking as the dagger scraped against his insides.
His blood drained over me, saturating my dress uniform. The tangy smell of metal filled the corridor, the hall now coated in the blood of three.
Lucan exhaled his last breath, and only then did I pull my dagger from his flesh. I backed away, letting his body drop to the floor with a hefty thud. For good measure, I stomped the sole of my boot into his skull.
Crack.
My hands ran through my hair as I stepped back and stood in the wreckage before me, turning in a circle to truly absorb the bloody carnage left behind.
I looked to where she had been lying. Some of her blood had dried black, absorbed into the cement.
She was hardly conscious, but I'm glad Sawyer got Maeve out of here when he did. I didn't want her to see this side of me—the side that I hated, but accepted with a fury of passionwhen I needed to.
I shouldn't have left her. I'd never forgive myself for what they did to her. And if she died…
I swallowed the nausea that burned my esophagus.
There was no time for emotions right now. I had to get to her.
I picked up her dagger, then took one last look at the mess before starting off in a sprint up the staircase.
I was met by my friends surrounding her when I burst through the door of Maeve's room.
She laid lifeless in her bed. So pale and still that I had to focus to catch the rise and fall of her stomach to know that she was still breathing.
Sawyer crouched on the floor next to her bedside. Kohen watched from afar while Pia worked her healing magic.
“Is she okay?” Panic pulled at my insides as I stared at her lifeless frame. I hadn't moved from the doorway—couldn't bring myself to.
Sawyer approached me, letting out a deep sigh. “She's alive…I wouldn't go as far as to say that she'sokay.”
I peered over his shoulder. Her hair was matted with blood—her face so swollen and purple that I could hardly make out her beautiful features.
My gaze fell and tears pooled in my eyes.
She’s going to be fine. She has to be fine.
