CHAPTER 27 #3
Sebastian didn’t think – he moved. Muscle memory, instinct, rage. His blade met the man’s mid-air and crimson sparks flew from both of them. Sebastian ducked low, parried, sliced with his blade. The steel clang echoed down the corridor.
Kara was behind him.
He had to keep her behind him.
The second guard struck fast, catching his already broken ribs – pain ripping through his chest. The shock dropped him to one knee as black spots burst in his vision.
He heard Kara shout his name – desperate, terrified – and it dragged him back.
He gritted his teeth, crimson magic flaring wildly across his arms, and forced himself upright, driving his elbow into the guard’s throat.
The man hit the floor gasping. Sebastian finished him with a clean, vicious strike.
The first tried to regroup. Outflank him.
No, you don’t.
He pivoted, his magic sparking red-hot now – not from anger, but desperation. The sword moved like it knew what he needed. His blade was faster than theirs – it always had been. He slashed across the guard’s neck in one fluid motion – he crashed to the ground.
Then – silence.
His chest heaved as he looked down at the bodies. Blood dripped to the floor, his or theirs, he couldn’t tell. His legs trembled, but he stayed upright. He looked back at Kara. She was standing very still.
“You alright?” he asked hoarsely.
She nodded.
But he wasn’t.
Because she’d seen him at his most dangerous. The carnage. The blood.
He turned to the vault door and pushed his hand against the lock. Used his own strength and a surge of magic to break through until it gave with a snap and a hiss. The door creaked open. He saw them straight away. The Shards, laid out on a pedestal in the centre of the room. Waiting.
But Sebastian didn’t take them. He looked back at Kara.
At the blood on her dress. Her wrists, bruised and raw from days in nightshade. All his fault. She’d been shackled and sentenced because of him.
“Sebastian? Are they in there?” she asked tentatively.
Fuck. She looks scared of me.
“Yeah.”
He grabbed them, shoved them into his pockets. Tried to ignore that his hands were shaking.
He didn’t look back at her.
Because he wasn’t sure what he’d see.
There was no time to dwell on it. More men would be coming. Sebastian grabbed her hand.
“This way.” He tugged her harder than he meant to. “The stables – southern exit.”
They ran. Down corridors, through the mercifully deserted hall – it was still early. They had almost made it when shouts rang out from the passageway behind them.
Shit. They’ve seen us.
“Keep moving!” he shouted as he threw her ahead of him. He turned to drop two more soldiers who had gotten too close. Every strike burned now. He was slowing, the injuries taking hold.
I have to make it. I have to get her out.
He ran after her until he burst into the stables. The valmares were panicked, the noise causing them to stamp and snort in their stalls. Hoofbeats echoed. Shouts. Orders.
More were coming.
Kara had already run for a saddle. Sebastian wrenched open the stall gate.
A flash of movement caught his eye. Too fast. Too close.
A guard rounded the corner at full sprint, blade raised, scarcely a breath away. Sebastian spun too late.
Fuck–
The sword was coming straight for him–
Kara moved. She threw herself into the soldier and his blade caught her side instead of Sebastian’s.
She cried out, stumbling backwards. Her hand flew to her waist, clutching the stall as her face twisted in pain.
Sebastian saw red – a roar tearing from him.
He lunged, driving his blade through the guard’s chest with brutal force. The man collapsed instantly, lifeless.
Sebastian wheeled around, wild and searching – Thorne always patrolled in pairs. But no one came. Just silence.
And Kara was bleeding.
Sebastian was at her side in an instant, catching her before she fell.
“No, no, no–” His hands were already on her. Blood coated his fingers as he tried to put pressure on it. “Let me see. Let me – fuck, Kara, I didn’t see him, I should’ve–”
“I’m fine, it’s nothing,” she gasped, pushing his hand away.
“You’re not,” he growled. “You’re bleeding.”
“And you’re breathing.” She tried to smile. “That’s what matters.”
He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have – why did you do that–”
“I told you before,” she panted. “I can’t let them hurt you.”
It nearly broke him.
He went to say something else but she cut across him.
“Stop it.” Her hand caught his face, palm warm against his blood-smeared cheek. “Sebastian. Not now. Get us out.”
Her touch dragged him back to his senses.
Get her out.
He swallowed hard and nodded. He threw the saddle over the valmare then helped her up onto it like she was made from glass.
He gritted his teeth against the agony in his side, his magic sparking, dulling the pain just enough – giving him the strength to move.
He swung into the saddle behind her – one arm locking tight around her waist, the other holding the reins.
“Hold on,” he whispered. “Hold on, Kara.”
Then he kicked the gate open.
And rode hard into the sunrise. The pyre unlit behind them.