73. Killian
KILLIAN
What the fuck just happened?
Esemeray disappeared inside Riggs' body. Then within minutes, he witnessed his brother’s body being sewn with a dark shadow. Killian choked, running his hands through his damp locks, his ribs tightening.
Esemeray reappeared from mist and moonlight. She grunted, laying her head on Riggs' chest, tucking herself tightly where he lay in Killian’s lap, unmoving.
Impossibly, Killian could feel Riggs' skin warming, his chest rising and falling faintly—too faintly. Tears slid down Killian’s face, his voice cracking. “Riggs…can you hear me?”
“Riggs?” Esemeray whispered, reaching out to touch Riggs' face, his lips.
Killian wiped his eyes, staring at Esemeray’s pale face, and her bloody beaten back. “Do you want to explain what just happened?”
Esemeray didn’t respond as she wrapped her arms around Riggs, closing her eyes as if keeping them open was too much effort. Esemeray’s and his brother’s chest rose and fell in sync with shallow breaths. Chills spreading throughout his entire body, Killian didn’t make a move.
“I asked my power to save him,” Esemeray murmured, not bothering to open her eyes.
“Did it work?” Killian asked with hesitation, sniffling, unable to process what the fuck just happened?—
“Is he breathing?” she asked, her voice barely a murmur.
“Yes.”
Barely.
He’d never seen Esemeray so exhausted. Killian cleared his throat, fixing his gaze on Riggs, his pulse skittering. An obsidian shadow snaked around Riggs' neck, moving as if it were alive.
What the hell?
Killian scratched his head, blood caking beneath his fingernails. A windwhirl of emotions flooded his mind, stealing any sanity he had left.
Riggs is alive with a moving tattoo?
“How…is this possible?”
Esemeray’s eyes fluttered open for only a second. “I don’t know. But…my shadows… I don’t feel them anymore.” She murmured, “It’s like they’re gone…”
Not knowing what she meant by any of that, Killian’s gaze traveled down her spine, unable to help his wince. “You’re injured, princess.”
Esemeray nodded, a soft smile spreading along her face. “I’ll be okay.” Her smile fell, her jaw slackening, body jolting, eyes rolling back.
What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening?
Riggs' body began to jerk, shaking uncontrollably. Breathing heavy, Killian slipped beneath Riggs and Esemeray, scrambling to turn them both to their sides.
“Somebody help me!” Killian screamed so loud his lungs ruptured, “Somebody help!”
Heat rushing through his chest, Killian held them both until the trembles eased. Esemeray calmed first, her breathing steadying, but Riggs?—
Killian’s heart sank.
Something was wrong.
Something was terribly wrong.
Riggs—
The faint rise and fall of his chest was no longer present.
Killian’s hands shook at his sides. “Esemeray, what’s happening?” Killian placed his fingers beneath Riggs' neck.
Nothing.
Even the tattoo stopped moving.
His flicker of hope vanished in thin air.
Gone.
Gone.
“Riggs?” Esemeray rasped, her fingers dragging across his skin. “No…no, no, no, no! Riggs, no.” She choked on a sob. “Riggs, NO!”
Killian didn’t understand. Riggs was breathing.
He was just breathing.
“Princess, move!” Killian bellowed, pressing his hands against Riggs' chest once more. He ignored Esemeray’s sobbing, ignored the distant shouting behind him, uncaring to see who was approaching.
The only thing that mattered was getting Riggs to breathe.
“Come on, Riggs, come on!” Sweat beaded off his brow, his pace never slowing.
Again.
Again.
He pumped over and over.
Nothing.
Rapidly blinking, Killian’s hands trembled as he pulled away.
Everything around him slowed into a blur.
Tunnel vision stole his sight.
Agony muffled his hearing.
A reality he refused to accept churned his stomach.
Riggs was dead.
Dead.
The shouting grew louder, and it took all his strength to pull his attention away from his brother. Glancing over a shoulder, Killian’s chest tightened, eyes growing wide.
He was going to be sick.
At least fifty armed men on horseback held torches and headed right toward them, the firelight reflecting off the red flags they waved through the air.
“Fuck.” Killian whistled for Storm.
He knew those two roaring lions stitched on those flags.
The symbol of Dagon.
Breathing heavy, he met Esemeray’s stare and swallowed hard. “Princess, we need to go. Now!” They had three minutes before they reached.
How did they get here so fast?
She violently shook her head. “I’m not leaving him!” Esemeray laid her body over him, holding onto him tightly.
“We’re not leaving him,” Killian reassured her, motioning to Storm. “Let me get you on the horse first.”
She didn’t even flinch.
The princess was unwilling and unmoving.
Could she even walk?
Two minutes.
“I cannot pick the both of you up.”
Urgency seared through his veins, Killian grunted, throwing Esemeray over his shoulder. Her fists collided with his back, her feet kicking with every last bit of strength she had.
“Let me go!”
“Stay,” Killian urged, slinging her over Storm. Heart pounding through his ears, Killian ran, racing to get to Riggs.
He wouldn’t leave him.
Killian’s breath caught. Fire spiraled through the dark, heading right toward him.
Skidding across the mud, an arrow landed right in front of his boot, and another, and another. An amber glow surrounded him, heat warming his skin.
No—
His heart constricted, his blood turning to ice.
Time slowed, Killian glanced at Esemeray, to the guards racing toward them, and back to his brother, laying there, lifeless.
Conflicted, Killian froze, blinking.
He would not fail Riggs.
Killian closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his face.
I love you, brother. I will return.
I will keep her safe.
Panting, Killian mounted on Storm, ripping his shirt off, and repositioning Esemeray in front of him. He handed her his tunic. “We leave now!”
Esemeray pulled the tunic over her body, and attempted to slide off the horse, seething. “I’m not leaving him.”
“We will return for him.” Killian promised, lowering his voice, “I owe my brother a proper burial.” His chest hollowed. “I made a promise to keep you safe, and I am doing just that. We are leaving now.”
“No!” Esemeray sobbed uncontrollably, reaching out for Riggs with trembling hands. “I can’t, I can’t. No we must, we must—” she choked, hyperventilating.
Killian’s heart burst, shattering to pieces beyond repair.
No time to cry.
No time at all?—
He hadn’t had a moment to catch his breath—hadn’t had a chance to come up with a decent plan. Securing Esemeray between his arms, he reached for Storm’s reins, and bellowed, “Hyah!”
Storm’s powerful body moved beneath them, racing north for the mountains of Theradonia. Killian looked over his shoulder, gauging the distance between the horde of guards. He blew out a breath of relief. Riggs was right—Storm’s fast.
Looking forward, Killian’s breath hitched, his vision blurring. “Fuck!” He pulled Storm’s reins, dodging an arrow by mere inches away. Fire spread across the ground, illuminating the lake with an orange glow. Storm neighed loudly, dashing faster than before.
They still had a good distance to clear them for good. No matter the thrill pumping through Killian’s veins the faster they went, every gallop further away from Riggs, was sheer agony. He blinked away the blur, fighting against his mind.
Fighting against every fiber of his being to return to his brother.
Keep her safe.
Killian screamed, forcing his feelings aside, and focused on keeping her alive.
He would be damned if he lost her, too.
Then it would have all been for nothing.
Losing Riggs would have been for nothing.