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Burning Dawn

Page 94

   


“Ah, well, you’ll soon discover otherwise. When next you wake, you’ll be bonded to me. You’ll do everything I tell you.”
He was too smug to be lying. She longed to respond—every fiber of her being was screaming, “Never!”—but she didn’t have the strength.
He held out his hand, empty now, and Bjorn’s sword flew into his grip. Her eyes widened. What did he—
He stabbed her in the stomach, once, twice, a third time. Agony. Such agony. Blood burned a path up her throat and gurgled from her mouth. The moment he pulled the metal out, she tumbled to the ground, unable to hold herself up.
“See you soon, my sweet.” He stepped over her.
From the corner of her eye, she watched, horrified, as he stabbed Bjorn in the heart. If the warrior had managed to survive the severed spine, he was a goner now.
No, no, no. He was a Sent One. Stronger than most. He could survive even this.
Please.
The sword clattered to the ground. Whistling, the prince entered the castle.
Bastard. As she writhed in burning agony, her mind locked on a single fact. If he wasn’t stopped, he would hurt and kill everyone she loved. Can’t let him.
She reached for the sword, but the action caused her heart rate to increase, and her blood to pour out faster. She stilled. I’m dying, my last minutes ticking away.
It was okay, she reminded herself. She would come back. Malice had seen to that.
In Thane’s eyes, she would be a monster.
A whimper budded in the back of her throat.
Can’t worry about that right now.
To face the prince, she had to be stronger. And she would have to face him, not just because he’d compelled her—she could feel the desire to find him already stirring in her chest—but to help Thane.
Elin wiggled, and kept wiggling, hastening the flow of blood. The darkness waiting on the periphery spilled into her mind, closing in...growing thicker...
What if the prince lied, and you aren’t really immortal?
The thought hit her, and she stilled. It was a possibility.
No. No, it wasn’t. I’m coming back, even if I’m not fully Phoenix. No matter what, she was fully determined. Nothing could pry her spirit’s kung-fu grip from her body. Nothing.
..ld slithering through her limbs. Destination: her heart.
It was coming. Death was coming. There was no stopping it.
...pooling in her chest...
“Thane,” Elin said with the last of her breath.
* * *
THANE FOUGHT TO remain conscious. Ricker had freed Kendra, and the two had chained him to the bed. Kendra had wanted to kill him, and Ricker, who was clearly in the throes of her poison, had wanted to please her, but besides binding him and stabbing him a second time, neither had made a move to end him.
“What has made you like this, Kendra?” Thane asked her.
“So amazing?” she replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“So...twisted.”
A flash of vulnerability in her eyes, gone so swiftly he wanted to convince himself he’d imagined it—he couldn’t.
“Do you really want to hear the sob story of the poor little princess ignored by her entire clan, so desperate for affection she gave herself to a rival king at the age of fourteen, and he passed her around to his troops? Well, I’m not that little girl anymore. I’ve learned to take what I want. The clan. Men. It doesn’t matter.”
He should have seen. Should have realized. She had a past more terrible than his own, and he’d only added to her problems. “I’m sorry,” he said, and this, too, he meant.
“You’re sorry? You’re sorry!” By the end, her voice was a screech. “He’s going to hurt you so bad, and I’m going to love every minute of it.”
“Who is he?”
Her lips twisted cruelly. “Your worst nightmare.”
“Is that what I am?” said a voice Thane recognized. “I always considered myself a forbidden fantasy.”
Thane tensed.
The prince.
Malice glided into the room. A white robe draped his body. Pretending to be a Sent One? It was a known fact: fallen angels were insanely jealous of Sent Ones.
Thane fought his bonds. Bjorn. Xerxes. Since being stabbed, he’d tried to call them at least ten times, but neither had responded. He’d tried to call Zacharel, too. The prince is here. Take the women and leave. Now. Again, there was no response.
Dread cut through him, sharper than the blade. They would never block him and never purposely ignore him. Which meant they had to be...incapacitated. Yes. Incapacitated, not dead.
And if they were incapacitated, the women...
No. No!
“Look what we did,” Kendra said, grinning as she motioned to Thane. “Just like you told us.”
“It’s not too late,” Thane told her. “You can help me, and I can help you.”
“I don’t need help.” But the beginnings of indecision stirred in her eyes.
“You did well,” the prince said to the princess. “You have a problem, however. I no longer have any use for you.” He placed a hand on both Kendra’s and Ricker’s brows. Striations of black appeared on their cheeks...down their necks... Their eyes rolled back, revealing the whites. Their bodies began to shake and shake...and when the shaking stopped, their skin was...stone? The black had spread, covering the pair from head to toe, creating a high-gloss sheen.
Thane had never seen anything like it.
The prince opened his hands, and the pair fell to the ground, nothing more than a pile of dust.
The evil power such an act required...more than Thane had ever witnessed. And completely unnecessary. With a little time, he could have reached her. Now, it was too late.
Malice grinned. “Your greatest enemies will never regenerate. You’re welcome.”
“That is the difference between us. I no longer had any desire for vengeance.”
The prince narrowed his eyes. “You lie.”
“And you are so afraid to face me, you had to stoop to this.”
Amused again, rather than insulted, the prince said, “You mock, and yet my battle strategy far surpassed yours.” He shrugged. “Did you try to summon your two favorite boy toys the way you Sent Ones like to do? Well, I’m sad to say they won’t be responding. Both are currently dead.”
His worst suspicion..nfirmed.
Though the prince hadn’t touched him, he felt as if his heart had just turned to stone inside his chest. Cracks formed, before the petrified organ burst into countless shards, cutting him. “You are the liar.” Demons enjoyed twisting the truth. He couldn’t forget.