36. Ash
Ash
The world narrowed to his hand tangled in her hair, and something inside me snapped.
To hell with the sword. A blade was too clean for this.
My fist flew first, connecting with Garrick’s jaw with a sickening crack that snapped his head to the side.
The moment his grip on Claire faltered, I didn’t wait.
I drove forward, slamming him back into the nearest wall hard enough to rattle the beams.
“You don’t touch her,” I snarled.
I swung again.
Blood split across his lip.
And I swung again.
He tried to fight back, but he was used to hiding behind others while they did his fighting for him.
I didn’t just want to hurt him; I was fueled by something far uglier than training.
I wanted retribution for the glamour he’d choked me with—the suffocating spell that had stopped me from warning Claire.
And white rage burned hot that he’d forced me to stand by while she was handed to him like nothing more than a transaction.
Not anymore.
He swung, but I ducked beneath the blow and drove my elbow hard into his ribs. As he staggered, I caught him by the collar and slammed him into the floor, the impact knocking the air right out of his lungs.
“How dare you?” I snarled. “How fucking dare you!”
“Ash!”
Claire’s voice came, but I barely heard her. I raised my fist again—
“Ash, stop!”
Something in her voice cut through the haze just enough to make me hesitate. And that was all it took for me to register the boots echoing down the hall. Guards flooded the doorway.
“Detain her!”
They all came at me at once. I met them. I drove forward, catching one guard across the arm before another slammed into my side. Pain exploded through my ribs, but I pushed through it—twisting, striking—taking one down, then another—
But then hands grabbed me from behind, hauling me back. I lashed out, elbowing one guard hard enough to hear cartilage crack, but another caught my arm, wrenching it back—
“Ash, please!” Claire’s voice came again. “Please, let’s just go!”
They forced me down. My knees hit the floor, then my shoulder as they drove me flat, weight piling on top of me until I couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe—
“Hold her!”
Cold iron snapped around my wrists. I stilled, my chest heaving, my blood pounding in my ears, and my gaze found Claire standing just beyond them, eyes wide, tear-streaked.
“Claire,” I tried to say, but my voice came out hoarse.
“Don’t—” she choked. “Don’t do this.”
They snapped handcuffs over my wrists and lugged me out of the room. My legs went limp as I stumbled behind one guard.
I’d already done it. And I would do it again.
Every time.