Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Icame to in a room I didn’t recognize. Fighting an attacker I couldn’t see. My legs flailed as I kicked out, tangling in the covers wrapped around me.
I went still. My heart beat wildly in my chest.
But I wasn’t inside the Round Tableau anymore.
Ben was gone. He couldn’t hurt me.
And whoever had saved me had disappeared, too.
“Quinn!”
Landon and Kingston rushed forward, both careful not to jostle me as they reached the bed. Blinking at the ceiling, I waited for the haze in my vision to clear. I met their concerned gazes, worry etched sharply into their expressions as they scanned my face and body.
My pulse slowed.
I was safe.
Forcing a dry swallow, my throat scratched like I’d ingested sandpaper. I rasped, “Water?”
Landon sat beside me and reached for the bedside table. As he held a glass out in front of me, Kingston remained standing, keeping his distance. His posture was stiff with tension.
I forced a smile, but it couldn’t erase what had just happened.
It was too much. I didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened if I hadn’t had the knife.
Avoiding his gaze, I surveyed the bedroom I’d woken up in, squinting at the familiarity I couldn’t place. Aside from the missing piece of our puzzle, déjà vu from waking up after being drugged washed over me.
“We have to stop meeting like this.” I tried to laugh, needing to distract myself as I sat up to take the water from Landon. Sharp pain flared in my side, and I winced. “Oh, fuck, that hurts.”
The concern in their gazes told me jokes were the last thing they needed right now. Landon scoured my face and body as if he’d developed X-ray vision, scanning for hidden injuries. Kingston’s pained expression, torn like he wanted to come closer, hit hardest.
“Your father is here.”
He nodded.
Guilt flashed through me at the thought of them learning I was unconscious and hurt—again—and at bringing Drake D’Arthur back to Pendragon.
Because I’d gotten in that golf cart.
Everything filtered back in slowly. Ben tricking me into going to Winchester Hall. Being led to the Round Tableau. My knife. The blood.
“There was so much blood.”
Kingston stepped forward. “You did what you had to do.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “We’re just glad you’re alright.”
Landon nodded, taking my hand.
An unexpected voice in the doorway spoke before I could.
“I accept your apology,” Max snapped.
With his arms crossed over his chest and a furious expression, he looked like this was the last place he wanted to be, but…
“You came.”
The words escaped unbidden, without fear of how he’d react if he needed to reinforce his act of not caring about me.
“Yeah, I came to see if we can get a move on with training.” His onyx eyes bore straight into mine as he clenched his jaw. “This is holding shit up.”
I heard what he said.
But he could lie to himself all he wanted. It didn’t change what I knew. He had no reason to be in that doorway other than wanting to check on me.
Without thinking, I pushed to sit up higher in the bed. My vision blurred. And a stab in my side made me cry out. Breathing heavily, I gritted my teeth through the pain. “Oh, motherfucking shitballs, that hurts!”
Max took a step backward, the movement quick in hopes I wouldn’t notice.
Landon helped me brace and ease back against the pillows. “Do you remember what happened?”
Breathing through the pain, my eyes locked on Max’s. “I stabbed him.”
A hint of pride flashed in his gaze, but he quickly shuttered his expression.
“He punched me.” I blinked as the memory came back to me. My first swing connecting with his side. His reaction. “He tried to—”
Kingston stepped forward when I choked on the words. Max’s nostrils flared.
“He punched me in the ribs.”
Max couldn’t hide when we were all together. Even though his was the most restrained, the three of them wore identical expressions.
Murderous rage emanated off them.
Kingston glanced at my side. “The doctor said your rib isn’t broken, but he found bruising.”
“Sorry, what?” I lifted my shirt, spotting the fresh bruise on my side and muttering under my breath. “Asshole.”
I lifted my head. All three of their heated stares had fixed on the reddish-purple spot.
“I’m fine.” I tugged my shirt down. “It’s not that bad.”
Kingston sighed. “You might just be sore from the punch. We won’t know if the ribs are bruised right away.”
“Is Ben…”
“He’s with the doctors now.” Landon spat as he glanced at the doorway. “He survived.”
I couldn’t think about that for long, so I shifted focus. “Will this affect me in The Quest?”
“Only if you can’t breathe.” Max snorted as he said it, but his fists clenched as he tore his eyes away from me to pin them on Kingston. “Do I have to be worried about this happening to anyone else?”
Ignoring Max, Kingston explained to me, “A bruised rib could take weeks to heal.”
“Should’ve left when you had the chance, huh?” Max sneered down at me before glaring at Kingston. “I asked you a question, Your Highness.”
He sighed. “I can’t answer that until I know more, Max.”
“Noted.” He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “So, anyone can be attacked at random, including my future wife, and you’re not doing a damn thing. Why am I not surprised?”
“My hands are tied, Max. My father says it’s his responsibility to handle these situations.” Kingston’s tone held an edge he usually contained. “I’m not happy about it either.”
Max scoffed. “Fine. I’ll protect her myself.”
He left the room so quickly, I barely had time to process what he said, but it hit me two seconds later like another blow to the ribs.
His future wife.
My hands shook as I clasped them in my lap. Max didn’t have to come, and I thought it had meant something.
But he didn’t have to storm out either.
It was just the three of us. He could’ve given me a sign. He could’ve asked for help.
Instead, all he showed was concern for Vivian.
“Quinn,” Kingston said carefully. “It’s going to be alright.”
“Breathe, beautiful. We’re here with you. He’s—”
“Hers.” My heart beat against my ribs, pain flaring that had nothing to do with my injury. “He’s always been hers. That’s what Elaine said. It’s what Morty and Merle said.”
“What?”
“I overheard them talking. Morty implied that Max has been using me. That his goal has been to get him and Vivian out of Camelot Court’s control. I—” I met their eyes, shaking my head. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t believe it.”
“You shouldn’t believe it. There’s no way that’s true.”
“But what if it is?” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “What if they were right?”
Neither of them said anything.
But they shared a look that tore my heart to pieces.
Kingston turned back to me with a sympathetic gaze. “Let’s not jump to conclusions until we know for sure.”
“Can I use my phone? I need Gia.”
“Of course.” Kingston’s agreement came right as Landon took my hand. “For now, Quinn, you also need to rest. Stay here and get some sleep.”
Anxiety prickled my nerves. “No way.”
“Quinn—”
As Kingston paced in the doorway, I sensed he picked up on my thoughts, so I shook my head at Landon. “I can’t stay in bed all day. I’d be a sitting duck. Ben said he was bringing me to someone else. What he tried—That wasn’t the reason he took me there. And whoever found me…”
“It was Morty.” Landon filled in the blanks.
“He had gone to Winchester Hall for something and noticed the golf cart haphazardly parked outside the Round Tableau. So, he went inside to investigate and found you. He called Kingston, and Kingston found me. We went to meet you there. When we searched the Round Tableau, the cameras showed us where you’d left Ben. I wanted to leave him there, but…”
Kingston’s resigned sigh communicated his reluctance to save him, too. “Yes, Morty argued we should bring him back here, at the very least, so if he died it wasn’t on our hands.”
My brow creased. “He’s always popping up. Morty. I can’t figure out if he’s good or bad. He gave me the knife, but—”
“He what?”
I glanced up at the surprise in Kingston’s tone. Skirting my gaze to Landon, I closed my eyes at the realization I’d forgotten to tell him about it.
“He gave me a pocketknife on our first day of training. During Ben’s lesson. I wasn’t sure why he did, but I decided to hold onto it. Now, I can’t help wondering if he knew about the attack. What if he—Could he be playing both sides?”
Landon looked at Kingston, who pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to work through his thoughts.
“I’m not sure, love. He’s been against Camelot Court since what happened to Desi, but I wouldn’t say he’s on any side. He has an agenda, and at times, we’re aligned. But he’ll stop at nothing for vengeance, so we don’t always see eye-to-eye.”
“Either way, someone wants me gone. I can’t just sit here and wait for them to do it. My side hurts, but I’m fine.”
They shared a look, and I frowned.
“Stop that. I know what you’re thinking, but I can’t focus on what happened if I want to win this. And winning this is the only way to stop it for good, right?”
Reluctantly, Kingston nodded.
“So, what lessons do I have left?”
“Only two. Escape with Tristan, and…”
“Subterfuge with Max.” I sat up higher, ignoring the sting at the prospect of time alone with him to dig into his response to my attack. “I’m not missing that.”
Kingston exhaled heavily. “I worried you might say that.”
“Kingston!” Landon argued, but I squeezed his hand and he gaped at me. “Quinn, it’s not safe right now.”
“Is me being alone in this room safer?” I implored him with my gaze. “With his father here?”
Landon frowned, staring between us as he tried to think through a different solution. But eventually, the threat of Drake D’Arthur outweighed all else. He turned to Kingston. “Do you trust him?”
Kingston met my gaze and forced his best attempt at a smile. When he nodded to Landon, my eyes fell shut.
“Yes.” His voice held no trace of doubt. “I trust Max won’t hurt her. Tristan either.”