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A ringing sounded in my ears and the gush of warmth on my face made its way quickly to my mouth. I could taste my own blood.
The royal guards’ hands descended on me once more and I watched as the courtyard flooded with people while I was dragged backward.
My face swelled, quickly puffing as they took me. My head rolled.
No. Fight.
Somewhere the small part of me that was left screamed at me to keep fighting.
The blood didn’t stop and I knew it was coming from my nose, but I wasn’t sure where else.
Nicole and I were taken to the center of the courtyard, and our gags were ripped out.
Nicole yelled. “What’s wrong with all of you? We aren’t traitors!”
But the jeers silenced her shouts.
A hush spread over the fae and guards that had gathered as a large, masked figure stalked into the courtyard. An ax swung rhythmically from side to side, and a glint from the sun bounced off that damn ax, illuminating the man’s shining white teeth.
Monster. Predator.
Warning bells went off in my head at the joy smeared across the executioner's face, or what I could see of it.
“Beheading,” Nicole whispered.
My heart slammed loudly in my chest and I dry heaved again, only hunching forward slightly.
Beheading?
That ax-wielding psycho moved closer, fae parting to let him by. Their faces held expressions of excitement instead of the disgust they should have held.
He approached where Nicole and I stood, and a large bench with a small crescent circle cut in the center was laid before us.
The sound of a sword slicing made me jump, and the binds that were holding my hands loosened and fell. But they were quickly replaced with strong hands grasping my shoulder. I started to struggle and twist my shoulders, but I was met with a fist to the side of my face.
It knocked me over, and I only remained on my feet because I was held in place by the guards around me.
A few gasps echoing through the crowd were the only warnings I had that something was wrong.
“Enough!” a voice cried out loudly and with so much authority that I jerked my head around, thinking I was dreaming.
Noah. He’d come.
He parted the crowd, shoving his way toward Nicole and me, toward me, like an avenging angel. He moved with speed and purpose and got to us in no time. He grasped his sword’s hilt firmly, and though it remained sheathed, it looked as though he wouldn’t hesitate to use it if need be.
“Let them go,” he snarled.
My face, though swollen, relaxed at the relief of his voice, and I swear if my lips weren’t busted up I might have even looked like I was smiling. Noah had actually come.
A few guards stepped toward him.
Noah’s face turned even colder than it had been. “It’s an order from your prince.”
He drew his blade, because instead of doing as he asked, the guards pressed toward him, pushing Noah back.
Noah sliced his sword forward and hell rained down again.
The chaos and confusion spreading through the courtyard was marked by fae screaming and shouting.
