Chapter 84 #2
Kallie scoffed. "You are more delirious than I thought."
His smirk curled into a smug smile. "You don’t know. Do you?"
"Know what?" Kallie asked.
He threw his head back and fell into a fit of laughter. Mangled words slipped out. His veins became more prominent and turned a vibrant blue. Spit dribbled down his chin.
Kallie shouted at him, but no answer came.
His laughter overtook his body, and he convulsed, slicing his throat on Kallie’s blade.
Kallie gaped as collapsed at her feet.
Her stomach churned, and she quickly looked away, only to find Sebastian swinging for Rian’s neck.
Kallie screamed out a warning as she sprinted.
Rian ducked, then swung out his leg, tripping Sebastian.
"I trusted you," Rian said, hovering over Sebastian, "yet you betrayed me. You stole my throne, my kingdom. You turned my people into test subjects!"
Sebastian pushed himself up and glared at his brother. "They should have never been yours to begin with! I should have been king. I should have been the one to rule. You were always the weak one!"
"It didn’t have to come to this," Rian countered, his sword lowering an inch. "It still doesn’t. Yield, Sebastian."
The prince huffed. "It was always going to come to this."
A flash of silver caught Kallie’s eye, and she lunged.
She wrenched Sebastian’s hand back moments before he drove a broken blade into Rian’s thigh. Kallie ripped the blade from his hand and pressed it against the prince’s back.
Sebastian tugged, but Kallie’s grip didn’t budge.
He tipped up his chin. "I will never yield to you, so do it. Kill me."
"I don’t want to do this. You’re my brother," Rian said, his hand trembling.
Sebastian scoffed. "Even now, you’re weak. You are not fit to be a king. You never have—"
Kallie slapped her hand over her mouth as Rian drove his sword through Sebastian’s side.
Rian dropped to his knees. He grabbed Sebastian and held him against his chest. A streak of tears ran down Rian’s cheek.
On shaking legs, Kallie stood and looked out. All around them, the sounds of war continued to ring.
Hesitating for a second, she reached out and rested her hand on Rian’s shoulder. "Rian—"
"It didn’t have to be like this," he whispered, trembling.
"It’s over, Rian," Kallie said gently. "Give the order."
He peered up at her, his eyes stained red. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, the world turned sideways as Kallie was thrown to the ground.
When she opened her eyes, she found two silver ones boring into her.
"Graeson?" Kallie sputtered. "What are you doing? Sebastian is dead. The battle is—"
"You nearly got yourself killed!" Graeson shouted, chest heaving. Sweat ran down his forehead and over his scar. His black hair stuck to his face, like ink staining parchment.
She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. "Did you not hear me? The battle is over."
He shook his head. "The battle is not over. Not even close."
"What? What do you mean?"
He moved and helped her to her feet.
As Kallie stood, she looked around. Drakonises still zipped across the sky as soldiers fought on the ground. Explosives still shook the capital. Screams still pierced the air. All around her, the battle continued.
Kallie took a jilted step backward.
The fighting hadn’t stopped.
She didn’t understand. Those nearby should have stopped. They should have put their swords down and fallen to their knees. Did they not realize Sebastian was dead?
"Rian—" Kallie began but cut herself off when she found Laurince kneeling beside Rian, a Frenzian soldier dead beside him.
As Laurince told him something she couldn’t hear, Rian snapped his attention to Kallie. His grip on Sebastian slipped, and horror flooded his features.
Graeson grabbed her wrists and bundled them between his hands. "The war is not over, Kal. Not yet."
Kallie looked from Rian to Graeson. The same fear and shock shone in Graeson’s usually calm demeanor.
"How? We won—We—"
Graeson’s grip on her hands tightened. "Kal, he’s alive."
"Sebastian? No, Rian killed him. He’s right there—"
Graeson shook his head. "Not Sebastian, Domitius—he’s still alive."
"No." Kallie tried to take a step back, to put space between them, to breathe, but there was nowhere to go. "You’re wrong. You’re—"
"Look, Kalisandre," Graeson demanded, pointing toward the castle.
Kallie shook her head. Her entire body trembled. "No, you’re wrong. You killed him! He can’t be—"
"Kalisandre!" Graeson grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently.
Kallie blinked.
"Look," he demanded.
Kallie swallowed and looked toward the castle sitting on the hill.
There, beyond the battle raging in the streets, stood a figure astride a black stallion, towering over the winged soldiers who surrounded him.
Although Kallie could not make out the man’s features, she recognized the curl of the iron horns that adorned the metal helmet.
Only one person owned a helmet in the shape of a bull.
"It’s not possible," she breathed out. "It has to be someone else. It has to be—"
"It’s him, Kals. Domitius lives. I failed."