Page 100 of No One’s Daughter

My stomach dropped because I just knew.

I turned instinctively, my mind automatically turning to Ailsa—making note of where she was standing, what angle she had, how quickly I could get her out—but the moment I moved, I knew.

It was already over.

They were everywhere.

The Ninth flooded the space with silent efficiency, black-clad bodies filling every exit, every inch of breathing room swallowed whole in seconds. Weapons raised. Eyes sharp. Controlled.

Prepared.

So much more prepared than the last time.

​No, no, no.

This was everything I had feared. Everything I’d tried to avoid.

I looked back to Marlette, a desperate need clawing its way up my throat, searching her face for an explanation—for anything that might make all this make sense.

But she couldn’t meet my eyes. Her gaze had dropped, her lips trembling as she stepped aside, opening the doorway further… letting more of them in.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, her hand clamping over her mouth as though she could physically hold the guilt inside.

I’d be lying if I pretended I wasn’t furious with her, but I suspected she’d felt as though she had no other choice. And the knowledge of the torment she must be under softened my fury toward her. It wasn’t her fault, I knew that. But I couldn’t fucking look at her right now.

​“What’s going on?” Ailsa’s soft voice, barely above a whisper filtered through the madness.

​“It seems our time has run out,” I said, looking back at Ailsa, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. First my betrayal, now Marlette’s. I was sure she was fuming on the inside.

​“I’m sorry,” Marlette choked out once more. “They threatened me and—” her voice broke and she shook her head. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

​I understood, truly I did, but it didn’t lessen the blow. She had to give them something, to save herself and those that she loved.

​“Get your fucking hand off me,” Ailsa snarled suddenly, the sound cutting through the room.

​My eyes snapped to her.

​One of them had moved in—too close—his grip firm on her arm as she twisted against him, fury burning through her now, sharp and alive.

​Something dark surged in my chest.

​Instinct.

​Protective.

​Violent.

​It was the moment I realised I’d fight to the death for her.

​And it had nothing to do with the oath I’d taken.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

Ailsa

DAVIEN’S ROARS TORE through the room with such force that even the walls seemed to recoil from him, the sound raw and unrestrained in a way I had never heard before. There was nothing controlled about it, nothing calculated—just fury and something far worse beneath it.

​Fear.