Chapter 29
Kieran
She went limp in my arms.
For one terrible, heart-stopping moment, I thought—
But no. I felt her. Distant, quiet, but there. Not gone. Just... spent. Completely and utterly exhausted. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. Blood from her nose had dried on her face. The cuts on her arms were still bleeding sluggishly. The brand on her shoulder—
I forced myself to look away from the damage. To focus on what mattered.
She was alive.
We'd won.
Tobias’ body lay a few feet away, the blade still buried in his chest. Dead. Finally, permanently dead. I had half a mind to burn him to ash or string him up on a pole in front of the whole Court so everyone could see what happened to traitors.
But it would have to wait. My family came first.
Lorenzo was sitting up now, one hand pressed to the wound in his chest. Not the heart—thank the saints, not the heart—but close enough that he'd nearly died. His face was pale, but vampire healing was already working. He'd live.
The door burst open.
I moved instinctively and shifted to cover Merrit with my body, my good hand going to where my sword should be and found nothing. I'd lost it in the fight.
Luckily, it was just my brothers.
Nikolai stumbled through first, pale and magically drained but walking. Then Henrick, barely standing, used the doorframe for support. Solis was last, bleeding from too many wounds, moving like every step cost him.
"Kieran." Nikolai's eyes found me, then dropped to Merrit in my arms. "Is she—"
I relaxed slightly but didn't move away from her. "Alive. Unconscious."
"Everyone?" I asked.
"Alive," Henrick confirmed, sagging against the wall. "Barely. Raleth's dead. The conspirators are all down."
Footsteps thundered through the corridor, heavier, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass.
Rhett and Jex appeared in the doorway.
Jex looked like he'd been through a meat grinder—deep gouges across his chest where the other demon's claws had raked him, one shoulder hanging wrong where the shifter's axe had bitten deep. But he was standing. Moving.
Rhett limped in behind him, most of his vials shattered, blood soaking through his shirt from half a dozen cuts. But his eyes were sharp, assessing.
"Everyone still breathing?" His gravelly voice cut through the room.
"Barely," Nikolai said, sliding down the wall to sit.
"Good thing I brought the entire fucking pharmacy." Rhett pulled out the remaining intact vials from his bandolier—maybe seven or eight, glowing faintly with different colors. "Healing draughts. They won't fix everything, but they should keep you lot from dying in the next hour."
Rhett moved through the room with practiced efficiency, distributing healing draughts, each tailored to the injury—Lorenzo first for his chest wound, then Solis, Jex, Henrick, and Nikolai.
When he handed one to me, I tried to refuse. "Give it to her."
"Already planned on it," Rhett said, pulling out another. "Take yours or you'll pass out before we get her home. You're bleeding from about fifteen different places."
I hadn't noticed. Adrenaline, probably. But looking down, I saw he was right—blood soaked through my clothes. I took the vial with my good hand and drank it. Warmth spread immediately, dulling the worst of the pain. Not healing, but helping.
Rhett crouched beside me, pulling out a glowing amber vial. "Make her drink this. All of it."
I shifted her carefully, tipping the potion against her lips. She was unconscious but swallowed reflexively, instinctively. The liquid disappeared, and warmth spread through her—not just physical, but through the bond, too. Like the potion was reaching the damage inside as well as out.
Color returned to her face, just slightly. Her breathing evened out, deepening with each inhale.
"She'll be okay," Rhett said, watching her with the eye of someone who'd seen too many injuries. "Burned herself out with that psychic attack. Telepaths always push too fucking hard."
I went still. "You know?"
"That she's a telepath?" Rhett snorted. "Yeah. Jex and I have known for years. The way she'd know things she shouldn't, react to thoughts instead of words." He shrugged. "Wasn't our secret to tell."
Jex rumbled his agreement from where he sat against the wall, one massive hand pressed to his wounded shoulder. "Family keeps secrets."
"Family," Rhett agreed simply. He met my gaze. "Which means if anyone comes for her because of what she can do, they go through us first."
Something tight in my chest eased. They'd known for years. Protected her. Kept her secret without question or hesitation.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
Rhett waved it off. "Nothing to thank. She's our family. Has been since the day she gave us a chance." He stood, wincing. "Just keep her safe. She's been through enough."
"She will be," I promised. "Whatever it takes."
Rhett nodded, satisfied, and moved to check on the others.
Lorenzo was already looking better—color returning, breathing easier. The healing potion combined with vampire physiology was knitting the worst of the damage. He'd have a scar, but he'd live.
"We need to secure the area," he said, voice still rough but functional. "Make sure there aren't more conspirators waiting."
"I'll check." Nikolai pushed himself to his feet with visible effort. "Henrick?"
"Right behind you."
Nikolai and Henrick disappeared into the corridor. I heard footsteps, voices, then the methodical sound of blades meeting flesh—beheadings, the way we'd been trained. Better to be certain.
They returned minutes later, Nikolai's sword bloodied. "All clear. All down. Permanently."
"The compelled guards?"
"Gone. Fled when Henrick broke the compulsion." Henrick sagged against the wall again. "They won't remember much. The trauma of forced compulsion usually fragments memories."
"Good." I didn't want innocent people punished for what Tobias had forced them to do.
Nikolai approached Tobias’ body, crouched down carefully, and started searching his pockets.
"What are you looking for?" Lorenzo asked.
"Evidence. Proof." Nikolai's hands found something in an inner pocket. "Ah. There."
He pulled out a folded stack of papers, opened them, scanned quickly, his expression darkening.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Names. A list of conspirators in other provinces." He looked up. "Correspondence about the coup. Timeline of attacks—the southern gate, the poisonings, everything. And..." He pulled out another document. "Orders. Signed and sealed."
"Let me see."
He brought them over. I read through them with growing cold fury.
It was all there. Every attack. Every assassination attempt. Every part of the coup laid out in meticulous detail. Tobias had documented everything, probably as insurance, or maybe just because six hundred years of being the king's enforcer had made him compulsively thorough.
"There are more," I said, reading the list of names. "Other conspirators. In Lorenzo's province, in the eastern territories, even in the capital itself."
"We'll root them out," Lorenzo said grimly. "Now that we know who they are."
"This cell is eliminated," Henrick added. "The immediate threat to Morathen is over. The rest... we can handle."
Solis pushed himself off the wall, wincing. Blood still seeped through the bandages Rhett had wrapped, but vampire healing was already knitting the worst of it.
"There's one more thing," he said quietly. "Something I didn't tell you before."
I looked up from where I sat holding Merrit.
"When I saved her... I didn't just save her life." He met my gaze. "I took her memories. The fire, her parents, all of it. Suppressed them completely."
The words hit like a physical blow. "You what?"
"She was ten years old and just watched her parents get murdered. I couldn't..." He stopped, steadying himself. "I made a choice. To spare her that trauma."
"Without asking."
"There was no time." His voice was flat. "I can give them back. When she's ready. If she wants them. But it has to be her choice."
I looked down at Merrit, unconscious and finally peaceful after so much pain. Another choice made for her. Another piece of her stolen, even if it was meant as mercy.
"When she wakes," I said, "you’ll tell her. And then she can decide."
Solis nodded. "I will.”
I looked down at Merrit again. The immediate threat was over. She was safe. That was what mattered most.
"We need to move," Lorenzo said, pushing himself to his feet. He swayed slightly but stayed upright. "But first—"
He didn't finish the sentence. Just drew his sword, moved to Tobias' body, and with one clean strike, severed his head from his shoulders.
Better to be certain. Especially with someone as old as he was.
"Now we can go," he said, cleaning his blade.
"Agreed." I shifted, trying to stand while holding Merrit.
Jex was there immediately, despite his own injuries. "I'll carry her."
I hesitated, not wanting to let her go. I didn't want her out of my arms for even a second.
"You're injured," Jex said, voice gentle despite the gravelly rumble. "Exhausted. Let me. You know I've got her."
I did know. Jex had protected her for years, would die before letting harm come to her. And I was injured, exhausted, barely able to stand myself.
Reluctantly, I nodded, carefully transferring her to Jex's massive arms. He held her like she weighed nothing, cradling her against his chest with surprising gentleness for someone so large.
"Let's move," Lorenzo ordered.
We made our way out of that terrible room. I didn’t look back as we passed Tobias’ body. Didn’t linger on the table with its torture implements.
Bodies lined the hallway. The conspirators who'd tried to stop us. Raleth. The twins. Morana. The demon. The shifter. All dead.
We'd fought through all of them, and barely survived.
But we had survived.