I gasped, holding my shoulder and looking at the throwing knife in the tapestry beside me, shocked. Had he really done that? He’d been aiming for my head.
I got my answer seconds earlier when Ethan threw another knife at me. I had to twist to the side to avoid it. I watched as it flew past my eyes.
Okay, hewasreally trying to kill me. This wasn’t a game. “Ethan, stop!”
He wasn’t giving me any time to explain. The Phantom lunged forward. He grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back sharply, causing it to sprain. I cried out in pain, and the Phantom gave a satisfied hiss. Tears sprang to my eyes. If he wrenched any harder, he’d break it.
And he was going to. I knew he would. I’d seen him do worse to cultists without hesitation. To get away, I stuck my leg out and swept his own out from under him, so he fell backwards. He let me go, and I was able to scramble out of the hold, my arm still throbbing.
I kept going. I had a head start as he clambered to his feet. I was quickly running out of breath. I couldn’t run much longer. I had to find a place to hide.
Except this palace was more like a maze. There were no hiding places to be found. I tried several doors, but all of them were locked. Not a soul wandered these hallowed chambers, all of them preoccupied with the masquerade.
I heard the Phantom again. He was catching up. There was a stairwell that wound to another floor. There was no place to go but skyward. I took the stairs, lifting my skirt to flee as I heard the Phantom slam the door against the wall a floor below.
Up and up we wound. My breath was labored now— the Phantom was catching up. At any moment, he’d get his hands on me. I could almost feel him breathing down my neck.
The roof. If I could get to the roof, I could fly away. Ethan didn’t have wings. He couldn’t pursue me. I pushed myself onward, past the knives stabbing my lungs, ignoring the blood from my shoulder that was staining my dress, running down my twisted arm.
I got to the final floor, which had a doorway to one of the tower’s rooftops. I busted it open— I flung myself against the door so hard I ended up falling on my face.
I scrabbled upward. My shoes slipped on the blood dripping from my wound, and I almost tripped again, but I miraculously kept my balance. As I rose upward, the Phantom burst through the doors, and I turned to face him with a pounding heart.
The wind howled, whipping my dress around my legs and tearing my hair free of its updo as the full moon shone down from above. If I brought my wings out in front of him now, he’d know who I was. My identity would be revealed.
But did that matter when he was literally trying tomurder me? I tried to fly— tried to dosomething, but my wings wouldn’t come. A horrified expression crossed my face, and the Phantom smirked when he noticed. I threw out my hands, tried to call a spell, but sparks flickered uselessly in the air and failed.
Illusion magic didn’t work when you were this terrified. Fae magic didn’t manifest when there was fear. You had tobelieveto get the spell to work.
And I didn’t believe I could defend myself from the Phantom. Not like this. I’d beaten him before because he hadn’t been serious about taking me down.
He was serious now. And it was deadly.
I hadn’t been so fucking stupid as to not have a weapon on me. My dagger was holstered to my leg, underneath my dress. I lifted my skirt and wrenched it free, pointing it at the Phantom to defend myself.
“Ethan, if you do this, there’s no going back,” I warned. My voice was so scared. “You’ll be past the point of no return!”
The Phantom wrenched a dagger out of the sheath belted to his side. “I’ve already made up my mind. This is what I must do. For my country!”
Ethan swung his dagger downward. I parried away his blow with my own, though it was a weak attempt. It wasn’t seconds later before his blade was stabbing forward again. I was so frantic I couldn’t do much but jump out of the way and avoid his dramatic advances. He was pressing in on me, making me lose ground. His blade moved so fast I could hardly keep up. The edge of the dagger nicked at my face, and once upon my thigh.
I’d never been so scared in my life. I didn’t want to hurt Ethan, but at this point, it was almost kill or be killed. He wasn’t giving me enough time for an explanation. Would I have to decide between his life and mine?
I’d nearly made the choice before he knocked my dagger out of my hand. It flew away from my fingers and sailed over the wall surrounding the roof, leaving me defenseless.
I backed to the very edge of the rooftop and nervously peered over, to the ground far below. If I jumped from here, would my wings save me?
A pit in my stomach said probably not.
“You tried to kill my mate,” he growled. “Now I’m going to kill you.”
“Ethan, it’s me!” I shouted. “Em—agh!”
Before I had time to finish my name— my own damn name— he’d lunged forward and stabbed me. He ran his blade across my middle, cutting my dress and slicing open my tender torso.
I spun and dropped to my knees as blood poured out of the wound, screaming in utter agony. The cut stung, driving me mad with suffering. I put a shaking hand to the skin, and found that it was cleaved in two.
This was bad. This was really, really bad.
