Chapter 69 Rhea #2
By the time my mind quiets enough to fall back asleep, the sun is peeking over the horizon. With my skin sufficiently chilled from the bitter air, I step back into the sitting room, turning to close the slider, when an unfamiliar voice halts me.
“Lady Rhea.”
I spin, my heart leaping as I meet the dark eyes of a man.
His messy blond hair hangs over his forehead, as if he’s run his hand through it over and over again.
Dark circles color the skin beneath his eyes, and his rumpled clothes look as if he hasn’t changed in days.
I swallow, my body tense as our gazes hold.
He stands in the sitting room just past the entrance, the door behind him open.
My eyes leave his to check for Brisk, but either he’s not at his post or he is, and didn’t stop this man from coming in.
“You killed my brothers.” Even with only the early morning light, I can make out his murderous expression.
The way he grimaces and his body moves as if it takes all of his effort.
He steps towards me as his fist tightens around an altered bow, the pressure making it creak beneath his grasp.
“They were the only family I had left, and you killed them.”
“I didn’t kill anyone—”
“Don’t lie,” he interrupts, pointing the bow towards me, an arrow already nocked and drawn within it.
“The men came home with rumors about your magic turning our comrades to ash. That you drained their life!” he shouts, his entire body trembling as he closes the distance between us by another few steps.
I counter by moving backwards, my back hitting the glass slider.
“I didn’t mean to,” I whisper, my heart beating furiously as I chance a single step to the left. “I was forced to do it.”
The man’s laugh is jarring as he jerks the strange bow in my direction.
But his smile falls quickly, and his cheeks become stained with tears.
“They were all I had. It was the three of us just trying to save up enough to live somewhere quiet. We were only supposed to be in the guard for another year at most.”
I suck in a breath, blinking back the pressure that builds behind my eyes. “I’m sorry. Truly, I’m so sorry.”
“Your apology isn’t going to bring them back!
Nothing will!” he snarls, sweat gleaming over his brow.
“The king expects us to just accept your magic without question when we know nothing about how you might poison us with it!” A shadow forms right outside the door, drawing my gaze as Xander peeks his head around the doorframe.
“I asked for an audience with the king so I could share what so many in the guard think—that trusting a mage is a mistake. And he denied me, sending that bastard Simon to say he was too busy to meet with me.”
My breaths shorten as I take another step to the left, but the man mirrors it. “Your brothers and your friends did not deserve their fates,” I rasp with a shaky breath. But I can tell my words fall short as resignation settles over his tear-streaked face.
“They deserved more than you, and now the king will know what it’s like to lose someone he loves.”
The room descends into a cacophony of noise—the sound of a click and whoosh of air, a sword being drawn from its scabbard and the pounding of footsteps.
I watch in slow motion as Xander enters, sword in hand and angled towards the man.
Pain flares hot and bright in my chest as I’m knocked backwards, stumbling into the slider before collapsing to the ground.
My pulse beats loud in my ears, each second ticking by rhythmically as I lift my head to find Xander now right in front of me.
How did he move so quickly? He drops his sword, falling to his knees beside me.
The man behind him staggers out into the hall, blood draining from his face.
Why aren’t you going after him? I try to ask, but I can’t get the words out.
Xander’s hands land on my shoulders, and he guides me onto my side before shouting something behind him.
Cold pierces the tips of my fingers, and I flex them out in front of me, half expecting my shadow magic to be spilling from them.
“Rhea? Rhea, can you hear me?” His voice is muffled, as if he’s speaking underwater as he leans over me, a hand pressing at my back.
My chest burns, and I try to move my hands closer to brush away whatever is causing it, but Xander pins them to my stomach with one of his.
“It’s okay. We’re going to get you help.
” His voice shakes, and then he lets go to bring his hand to my chest, pressing down on it so hard that I scream.
Or, I try to. A strange noise comes out instead. “Fuck! Rhea, look at me.”
I try to ask him what’s wrong but gag when the taste of metal floods my mouth. It makes me cough, sending liquid splattering onto the floor in front of me and dotting Xander’s trousers.
“Don’t talk. Just focus on staying awake.”
My next inhale is gurgled, and my gaze drifts down, my vision going double as I stare at the fletching of an arrow, blood seeping out where it’s impaled me.
All at once, sound comes rushing in, scent and sensation following close behind.
Another broken sound meant to be a scream wrenches out of me, taking all the fight I have in me with it.
Blood dribbles from my mouth as the ground vibrates with more footsteps, and my lids grow heavy. Tired. I’m so tired.
“Hang on, Rhea,” Xander says, giving me a gentle shake when my eyes start to close. “No, come on. Stay awake!”
My lashes lower again as I groan, exhaustion smothering me as the numbness at my fingers travels up my arms. If I can just fall asleep, I won’t have to feel this pain.
Won’t have to hear that man’s words bouncing around in my head, a tomb filled with the screams of those I had killed. If I can just sleep—
A different voice sounds, this one panicked as its owner settles in front of me. They say something—command it of me. But there is no fighting the way death blankets me, its alluring darkness calm and quiet and final.