Chapter Forty-Two Xander
Shit. Spinning out of the way of Alden’s blade, I pull my own free and block his next swing as the clash of metal pierces my ears. “Siyala, run,” I grit out, kicking into Alden’s shin and causing him to retreat a step. I risk a glance her way, frustrated to find her still standing there. “Siyala—”
Pain explodes at my temple, Alden suddenly right in front of me, arm already cocked back in preparation for a second blow.
Blinking the stars out of my vision, I duck low, swiping at his legs with my dagger but moving just a second too slow.
He leaps back, our heavy breathing filling the space as I finally hear Siyala’s steps retreating. Good.
“Was it worth risking everything?” Alden sneers as he lunges for me again, swinging up with the dagger while feinting to the right.
I counter, my left fist clipping the edge of his jaw before I leap back at the air that stirs in front of my face from his passing blade.
The hair on the back of my neck rises as I move to stand straight up, lifting my arms to defend my blindspots when the top of my head smacks into the ceiling of the tunnel.
Stumbling backwards, I curse, dodging left a fraction too late.
The sting of his blade slicing across my arm makes a breath hiss from between my clenched teeth.
“Alden, this is madness. We fight for the same cause!” I catch his wrist mid air and march him backwards until he slams into the tunnel wall, a warning in my grasp as his dagger hovers above us. “My loyalty is to the resistance—”
“It is to her!” he bellows. His hand opens, and the dagger falls, silver flashing in the light of our torches on the ground as I watch it land in his opposite hand.
Footsteps whisper from behind me, a shadow moving across the tunnel.
Someone else is here. Are they going after Siyala?
Metal scrapes against my armor, the drag of his blade just missing my side as I pivot my hips.
Air rushes into my chest in heaving gasps then is lost completely when the heel of his boot connects with my knee and I go crashing to the ground with a grunt.
My blade flies from my hand, heart pounding in my chest as I scramble to get to my feet.
But Alden is there, knee driving into the underside of my jaw, sending me sprawling back towards the ground as my ears ring and my vision blurs.
I brace my arms out above me on instinct as I blink through the stars in my eyes, Alden’s weight slamming into me, the glint of his dagger mere inches from my neck.
“Any last words, Xander Maxwell?”
I try to thrust him off, my heels slipping against the rough stone beneath me as I search for any kind of leverage. But my attempts are stopped, countered by Alden easily and terror plunges into my stomach as his knees dig into my sides.
“Maxwell isn’t my fucking last name,” I growl, but Alden’s focus is now entirely on how close the tip of his dagger is to my skin.
He presses down with a guttural sound, and the blade moves lower, the muscles of my forearm burning with the strain of holding him back.
Stars above, what if I die? What will he do with her?
Sweat gathers at my palms, and my vision flashes, my quick breaths making my heart skip a beat.
Glaring from above me, Alden looks animalistic in his own right, and a victorious smile curves his lips as he watches me struggle.
He sucks in a breath, mouth parting to no doubt deliver his final words to me when his eyes abruptly grow wide.
They meet mine as he wheezes a single breath, but when his lips peel back again, blood is seeping between them and a gurgled noise rises from his throat.
The dagger falls and hits my cuirass with a clang loud enough to make me wince.
Shoving him to the side, I scoot back, watching as he falls like dead weight, a familiar-looking hilt sticking out of the back of his neck.
Siyala stands with her hands held out in front of her, those amber eyes encircled by a hue of bright gold.
Her arms shake, and her teeth flash stark white against the dark of the tunnel.
She looks ravenous. Rage-filled. Like her wild fox is pressing at the edges of its mortal confinement and begging to be released.
Alden makes another noise, and Siyala’s eyes narrow in his direction.
Leaping to my feet, I intercept her before she’s on him again, her teeth snapping in his direction as a low growl rumbles in her chest. “Siyala—”
Fighting against my hold, she tries to get at him again, those eyes glowing—actually glowing—a brighter shade of gold.
“Siyala, look at me.”
“He tried to hurt you!” she rasps.
“But you saved me.” A broken sound crawls up her throat, and I frame her face with my hands, gently guiding those gorgeous eyes to mine. The intensity in them makes the breath in my chest halt—not out of fear, but in complete and utter awe. “You. Saved. Me.”
She struggles to understand what I’ve said, her focus bouncing from me to Alden and back again.
“You’re okay.” It’s more statement than question, but I nod anyway, slowly bringing my forehead to hers.
She releases a ragged exhale, resting her hands on my armor, right over my racing heart.
“You’re okay,” she repeats, even as her eyebrows pull together.
Remembering her enhanced hearing, I force myself to calm, my heartbeat slowing in response.
Siyala drags in a deep breath and then opens her eyes as she pulls slightly away.
The golden ring around her irises is gone now, as is the ferocity with which she tried to attack Alden again.
All that’s left now is a female who looks tired, as if the weight of what she’s done is already pressing upon her shoulders.
I want to comfort her again, to wipe away her panic until she only knows peace.
I want to spend hours, nights, months drawing only pleasure from her.
Reminding her that she is strong and determined and incredible. But we don’t have that time.
The reminder forces my head away from hers, my hands leaving her face as I turn to stare at Alden.
“What are we going to do with him?” Disquiet creeps into my veins.
Alden was my last resort for bringing one of my own to the Trusted.
Without him, I am completely alone. Tucking the wayward strands of my hair behind my ears, I huff out an unsure breath.
My plan to help Siyala escape had been accelerated when I learned King Dolian wanted her brought out of the dungeon.
He threatened to starve her to make her more compliant and despite how carefully I tried to execute freeing her, it was all thrown out the window in favor of doing the best I could to get her out now.
But how am I going to explain Alden’s dead body to the king?
Then again, I had planned on planting a body in front of her cell to make it look like she bested a guard to escape.
There was no shortage of loyal King’s Guardsmen I could pick from to use.
Perhaps Alden’s needless death would be useful after all.
Bending down, I pull her dagger from his neck, wiping it on his tunic until it is clean.
“Do you have your sheath?” She pauses, looking down on the ground before turning in a circle and pacing a few steps back in the direction we came from, finding it there.
When she presents it to me, a strange combination of pride and terror courses through me.
“I told you to run.” Sheathing the dagger, I spin it in my hand until the hilt is facing her.
Her brows drop low above those lovely eyes, the shape of them stunning even framed by a scowl.
“You made me promise that no one would ever take what was mine ever again,” she counters, plucking the weapon from my hand.
Resolve burns deep in her gaze, and the sight of it makes warmth stir low within me, pooling in an area that has no business being involved in this situation right now.
“I was just making sure I kept my promise.”
The urge to crush my mouth against hers nearly makes me take a step forward, my godsdamn hands lifting as if to frame her face again.
To dive into those perfect moonlit strands and tug her as close as possible until there is no space between us, save for the sound of our beating hearts.
But I quickly rein the impulse in, stuffing it into a box and locking the lid.
She is mere minutes away from leaving for good, and complicating our goodbye would serve neither of us well.
“Wait here,” I command before heaving Alden’s body over my shoulder and retreating back to the dungeon.
Once I’m back at her cell, I stage the false scene—sliding Alden’s own weapon into the wound at the base of his neck and positioning his body so that it appears he was felled while entering her cell.
Extinguishing the nearby torch, fear creeps into me as I walk in the dark.
This isn’t part of the plan. Bad things happen when you deviate from a plan— Bad things were going to happen to her if I didn’t deviate.
She is worth the risk. The breaking of my rules. She is worth it all.
Siyala is pacing when I return, but she doesn’t hesitate to reach for my hand, and together, we finally continue the rest of the way through the tunnels, popping out into the resistance meeting room.
She takes it in briefly as we cross the room to where a cloak is hanging from the wall.
I make to strip my armor so that we can travel somewhat undetected when the second hidden door to the room opens.
My hand curls around Siyala’s arm, but I relax at the sight of Grayson, his own shoulders drawing down from his ears.
“Good, you haven’t left yet.”
“What is it?” I ask, Siyala shifting closer.
“Alaric sent word from the docks. The shifter ship is delayed, set to leave in the morning now.”
My chest deflates. “Delayed? You’re sure?”
Grayson nods, hands bracing his hips. “They’ve discovered a leak in the hull.
It’s not bad enough to derail them for days, but they won’t be ready until tomorrow at the earliest.” I exhale roughly, glancing at Siyala from the corner of my eye.
“We’ve got a few men keeping tabs. They will send word when the ship is a half hour from leaving. ”
“So what does that mean?” Siyala asks, and though I trust Grayson implicitly, his attention falling to her makes something primitive surge within me. I turn to face her fully, drawing the hood up and over her head again and ignoring Grayson’s snort behind me. “Am I going back to the cell?”
“No,” I answer quickly, tipping my head back in thought. Where would be the safest place for us to go for the night? Longer if necessary?
“There’s a large group of recruits currently engaged in their final guard tests,” Grayson says. When I look at him, he rocks on his heels, hands slipped into his pockets. Mischief dances in his deep brown eyes, and I roll my own because of it.
“No.”
“I’m just saying, it’ll be fairly empty there.”
“Grayson, I said n—”
“Where?” Siyala peeks around me to look at my mentor, making his smile grow wider.
“He speaks of the barracks,” I tell her. “Where the majority of the guards live. It’d be like walking you into the belly of the beast.”
“Except that there is no beast because most of the men are gone.”
I clench my jaw. He isn’t wrong. The newest recruits make up the majority of the guards staying in the barracks.
Most find their own places once they officially earn the King’s Guardsman title and the coin that comes with it.
I had never felt the need to be farther away from the king than necessary, a decision I find highly stupid now.
“I can’t leave her in a room by herself in that place,” I say, shaking my head. “We need to think of somewhere else.”
“Can’t I just stay with you?” Siyala’s voice penetrates my thoughts, forcing my gaze her way yet again. “In the barracks?”
“I only have one bed,” I counter, lamely. Grayson snorts again, and I bite down on my tongue to keep from walking over there and knocking him on his ass.
Siyala shrugs, but there is a challenge in her voice when she says, “It doesn’t bother me.” Fucking stars above.
“Fine,” I spit out, grabbing the cloak anyway as I turn to face a gleeful Grayson. “Send the messenger to my room when they have word on the ship.”
“Will do, Xander,” he says with a godsdamn salute. “Anything else you two might need? Like perhaps a pair of boots for the lady?”
She looks down at her feet before we share a glance, neither of us realizing our mistake until now. We left her boots in the cell.
“Boots would be great.” Guiding Siyala to the door that Grayson came through, I open it, pausing to toss another request at him. “And a hot meal.”