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He heard the distress call. Troops would be coming for us.
“Shit!” Croygen barked, grabbing Sprig and putting him in his pocket for safety. “Go!” He waved, motioning for Cooper, AB, and Amara to head for the exit while I vaulted inside the tiny windowless room. There were no chains or any kind of torture devices, though I still could feel the evil in this room, designed to break your sanity.
A small box sat on a table up against the wall. It looked so unassuming. A single item in this empty room. The last layer of defense, behind prison walls, a guard, goblin door, and Druid spells.
“Katrina! We’ve got to go!”
Snatching it up, I twisted, running out of the exit. Hopping over Boyd’s body, I felt a hand wrap around my calf, yanking me down. “Ahhh!” I hit the floor with a painful thud, the box rolling out of my hands across the passage.
Kicking and punching me, Boyd tried to get around me to get it. A blade jabbed between his eyes, pushing in enough to trail blood down his face.
“You move and I skewer your brain.” Rage burned from Croygen’s eyes while he reached down, helping me up. “This is for daring to touch her…” He seethed, flicking his sword down in a sharp movement.
A scream pierced the air, blood squirting from Boyd’s mouth, his entire upper lip cut up to his nose, showing his bloody teeth in a grotesque image. Wailing in pain, he thrashed on the floor, Croygen’s gaze still locked on him, wanting to end his life. I felt his anger, his vengeance like my own.
“Croygen, we have to go!” I yanked on his arm, pulling him with me.
He didn’t budge for another moment, sounds far in the distance reaching us.
“Croygen?” I pleaded.
Snarling, he slammed his boot into Boyd’s skull, knocking him out cold before he relented.
“Hurry up!” Cooper belted from far down the passage, sounding like they were already heading up.
Turning to retrieve the container off the ground, panic froze me in place, my stomach sinking.
The box was gone.
Slowly, my gaze lifted to see Amara standing a few yards away with it in her hands, along with Boyd’s gun.
“What are you doing, Amara?” I swallowed, anxiety rising.
“Nothing more than what you guys would do to me.” She sneered righteously, pointing the gun at me. “I’m just making sure I come out the winner in this.” She clicked the safety off, ready to shoot.
“Wait.” Croygen stepped slightly in front of me. “Don’t shoot.”
“Why not? It would make me so much happier.” She smiled at me. “Plus, I’m only helping you out.”
“How is that?” Croygen gritted through his teeth.
“Stopping you from becoming Ryker.” Wrath billowed off her. “Becoming a pathetic, lovesick puppy. Come on, Croygen, look at what you’ve become. Have you forgotten what you used to be like, how much fun we had? Deep down, you know you liked what you were with me. It was the most real you’ve ever felt.”
Croygen didn’t respond, not fighting back, plunging my stomach even further into the floor. Did he think that too? I couldn’t gauge his emotions, his walls locked tight around him, but hurt and shock bubbled up in my lungs.
“You’ll thank me.” She started to push down on the trigger, the barrel pointed at my head.
“No.” He stepped more in front of me, his cheek flinching in agony. “Fine, Mar. You win.”
What?
“Take it and go. Just don’t shoot her.”
She shook her head in disappointment at him.
“I should, just to watch you grieve,” she mocked. “Just another sentimental fool. What a waste.”
“You have what you want. Just go,” Croygen repeated.
