Chapter 59 #2
I rolled under his next slash, grateful for the countless hours I’d spent training. If I made it through this, I’d have to write to Grandmother and tell her the tutors and instructors were worth every penny.
He thrust a blade at my heart, and I retreated into the center of the room. He was too fast. Too strong. I had split seconds to react. No time to form a plan. No time to call upon my magic.
He followed me, and our blades met in a tremendous screech of steel.
When we parted, I rolled across the foot of the four-poster bed, the magical vines brushing my shoulders as I came up on the far side. The bed served as a barrier between us.
For half a second.
The assassin vaulted over the mattress with fluid grace.
But I was already moving—retreating toward the doors to the balcony, both dagger and poker held ready.
“Haven?”
I gave the man framed in the bedroom doorway a fraction of a second’s attention. “A little help?”
Grayson rushed into the room, shouting something I couldn’t hear over the clash of steel. The assassin half turned toward this new threat, and I drove my foot into the attacker’s gut.
He stumbled backward, crashing through the balcony doors.
Lunging for me, the assassin grasped my towel and dragged me toward him. Close enough to smell the sourness on his breath. Close enough to see the flatness in his eyes.
I jabbed the dagger deep into his chest as a sharp gust of Grayson’s wind blew him backward.
My towel came loose, and the assassin’s arms cartwheeled as he tried to regain his balance.
He fell, hitting the snow-covered roof below us with a sickening thud. His body bounced, rolled, and vanished into the dark courtyard below.
Adrenaline still coursing through me, I grabbed the railing, half afraid the killer would levitate and try again.
“He’s gone.” Grayson was staring at me with his mouth hanging open. Then he shifted his gaze, focusing on the night sky as if his life depended on it.
“Are you hurt?” His hands were shaking slightly, and he clenched them into fists as if to hide the tremors. “You could have died.”
A frigid breeze swirled around us, and I realized I was naked. With an unbecoming squeal, I raced inside to the bed, desperately grabbing the extra blanket from its foot. I wrapped the soft wool around my cold body. “I’m fine.”
Grayson stepped inside, trying and failing to secure the broken door—almost as if he worried I might be cold.
Then he crossed to the fireplace, adding another log.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Dammit, Haven, when I heard the fighting—” He cut himself off.
“You’re not safe here. We shouldn’t have come. ”
“I was safe in Legacia?” We both knew that wasn’t true.
He flinched. “You’re still angry. If I’d known you were theirs—”
Theirs. Not his. I ignored the pang in my chest. “That shouldn’t matter.” Frustration bled into my voice. “You shouldn’t have stood by and let Drake assault or whip anyone. You shouldn’t have let Carron throw anyone in the pit.”
“I didn’t have a choice!”
I screamed. I couldn’t help it. In my defense, I’d had a long day, and he was one of the most annoying men on the planet. “How in this godsdamned world can a smart man be so stupid?”
Grayson’s shoulders stiffened, and his chin lifted. I’d pushed him too far. “Mind your place.”
“My place? Subservient to a man?” I lifted my chin. “I think not.”
“Haven?” Remy had joined us, a sword in his hand and a question written clear on his handsome face. “What happened here?”
“Assassin.” Telling him someone had tried to kill me was less complicated than explaining the tangled mess between me and Grayson.
Remy’s cheeks paled.
“I stabbed him, and Grayson blew him off the balcony. There may be a bit of a mess in the courtyard.”
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Remy sheathed his sword, strode across the room, and gathered me into his arms. His gaze searched my face and then my body.
I managed a small smile as I leaned into him. “Not a scratch.”
Remy closed his eyes for a moment, his arms tightening around me. “Thank the gods.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“So much for keeping her safe.” Grayson scoffed. Loudly. “How did he get in?”
He didn’t get to act like I was beneath him one moment and pretend he cared the next. “Leave. Now.”
“You’re our shield. I have a right to know how someone got past the palace guards. If he can’t keep you safe, we will.”
“I am not your shield.” I vibrated with anger. “We’re not in Legacia, and you have no claim on me.”
“She’s right.” Remy loosened his tight hold on me as his hands clenched into fists. “She’s not your shield. She’s your destiny. I heard you talking to her. Mind your place? No decent man talks to a woman like that. Especially not his destined bond.”
Grayson crossed his arms over his chest. “Not mine.”
Remy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re an idiot.”
I placed a hand on the prince’s arm. “It’s okay. Really.”
“It’s not. Z says it will take all six of us to protect you.”
“I understand Grayson’s point. He would never choose me. Fate meddled. I don’t blame him for rejecting her machinations.” Gladys would have to find another woman. I turned away, eager to find something better than a blanket to cover myself.
“Haven!” Remy’s voice had changed. Gone was the protective tone. Something else had taken its place—something that made my stomach drop.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw his face. The color had drained from his cheeks, and his mouth hung open. “What’s wrong?”
“Your back. What the hell happened to your back?”
“It’s nothing.” My voice came out too high, too fast.
Remy took a step closer, his hand half raised as if he wanted to touch but didn’t dare. “Haven …” He seemed to struggle for words. “What—who did this to you?”
The fight went out of me all at once. I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, but it was too late. He’d seen. And now I’d have to explain.