The sound of her knees hitting the ground echoed in her ears, but she forced herself to ignore the shaft protruding from her body to find Jaren. He was crawling across the ground toward her, clutching his chest, his eyes filled with pain.
He’d finally found the strength to push up off the ground when a booted foot shoved him back down, a sword pointed at his throat. Hayes stood over him, apparently having tired of his arrows not finding their mark. He glanced back at Eithan, a smirk on his pock-marked face, seeking the go-ahead to end Jaren’s life.
Vera tried to get up, tried to get to him, when her vision suddenly went black. She blinked, swiveling her head around, terrified and bewildered.
She wasn’t on Aleron anymore.
She was in a dark corridor, kneeling on a stone floor. The cold penetrated through her clothes, and she could smell the metallic scent of blood in the air. Looking up, she watched in horror as an enormous male held a boy at sword point.
Her shout lodged in her throat. It was Jaren. He was little more than a child, but it was him. She looked into those familiar eyes, widened in fear, and held her hand out toward him like a lifeline between their souls. All she knew was he needed her.
And she needed him.
The vision faded away as quickly as it had come, but it remained seared into her mind like a parasite. Something tensed and hummed in her chest, and then it was burning and flaring as she lurched to her feet.
Staring straight at Hayes, she wrapped her fingers around the arrow and wrenched it from her chest, her roar of agony echoing out as blood soaked her tunic. His head whipped around, his eyes widening in fear as he met her gaze.
Because at that moment, Vera was gone. Something dark had twisted inside of her, and nothing but fury and violence remained, demanding she make him hurt. Make them all hurt. She swore to the gods, she would fucking kill him if he moved. “Sphe zhimb pray? bra, y?u te a tsha dupye tseb, te adez? mbi zab.”
He didn’t need to understand her to know her intent. It was radiating off her in waves. His mistake was glancing at his prince for orders. The second his eyes flickered, she was on him, savoring the feeling of cartilage breaking as her fist made contact with his face.
She could hear clashing startup behind her, but she didn’t dare look away from Hayes. He wiped the back of his hand under his nose, smearing blood across his cheek, and she smiled, her expression manic.
Fuming, he rushed her, but she dodged his swing, throwing him off balance. He cursed, coming for her again and again, but she darted past his pathetic advances, landing blow after blow, delighting in his grunts of pain as she tried to see how many ribs she could crack.
She circled him, the new angle allowing her to spot Jaren fending off three of the guards who’d targeted him while she’d been distracted. Although most of the guards, including Coleman and Trey, stayed back around Eithan, a few more had begun to creep forward.
She saw red, and the sound that escaped her was anything but human. They wanted to play games? Fine. She’d play. She ducked Hayes’ next lunge, pivoting and striking him directly in the chest. He flew backward, his head cracking against the ground, and he didn’t get back up.
Swiping his sword where he’d dropped it, she then snatched the closest rock from the ground, and aiming at a particularly ugly guard, she focused her strength and launched it. It met its mark with a gratifying thunk. She watched his eyes roll back, blood running between them as he crumpled to the ground.
Glancing at Jaren, she saw he’d taken down two of the three that’d attacked him. He was breathing heavily, but with relief, she saw that he appeared fine. She raised her stolen blade, edging closer to the third man while his attention was still trained on Jaren.
One of the other guards called out a warning, and her prey twisted toward her, but it was too late. Like a woman possessed, she leaped on him. In his surprise, he dropped his sword, and she wasted no time straddling him and pressing her blade to his throat.
“If anyone moves, he dies.” She looked up at Jaren, who was standing next to her, sweat glistening across his skin. She fought back her shuddering relief that he’d chosen to heal himself. In fact, she no longer felt pain either. She’d healed herself without even realizing it.
“I’d listen to my aitanta if I were you, princeling.”
Vera pulled her gaze away to lock on Eithan, barely visible behind his wall of guards, all of them looking equal measures of shocked and horrified. All except for Trey, who stood behind him, arms crossed, his sword still in its sheath.
Eithan raised his hands, placatingly, “You don’t want to hurt him, Vera.”
“Actually, I do.” She bared her teeth and put just enough pressure on the guard’s neck to draw a line of blood, snarling in satisfaction at the hint of fear she could scent on him.
“I’m guessing with all the bonding you and Elric did, he failed to mention I have a bit of a temper. You see, I don’t like people touching my things, and he,” she said, tilting her head toward Jaren, “is mine.”
She felt a small pulse of warmth in her chest, like a flutter of pure joy, and it was so at odds with how she currently felt that it distracted her, pulling her out of her rage. She frowned, confused at what she felt, and glanced back to see Jaren smiling wickedly.
Feeling calmer and more like herself, she asked him, “Are you okay?”
A rumble in his chest was his only reply.
Sighing, she didn’t even bother looking down at the man beneath her before ramming the hilt of the sword into his temple, knocking him unconscious. She tossed the weapon out of reach and stood, swaying slightly. She felt suddenly dizzy.
“I don’t want to continue fighting, Eithan. But I will. All of this could have been avoided if you’d just listened. I will not go back.” She looked at him, feeling more drained and exhausted by the second. “But I swear, even after all of this, I will still talk to King Vesstan. I will not refuse to help with an alliance out of spite when it could benefit all involved.”
Jaren sheathed a dagger to intertwine their hands. Side-eyeing the group, he led her to one of the horses that had run several yards away in all the excitement, grabbing their pack along the way. She tensed, expecting Eithan to try to stop them, but none of them made a move.
“This isn’t how things were supposed to turn out.” Anger coated Eithan’s words, clashing with the controlled mask on his face.
“I know. And believe it or not, I don’t hate you.” She looked behind him and made eye contact with Trey, her next words meant more for her friend, “I understand that you had to follow orders.”
Trey looked heartbroken, like he didn’t expect to ever see her again. She placed a hand over her heart, ignoring the sticky tear in her tunic, praying he’d hear what she couldn’t say. The corner of his mouth lifted, and he dipped his head.
Feeling Jaren’s hands slide across her waist, she finally turned, for once accepting his help to mount. His body had scarcely curled around hers when he reached around for the reins and spurred the horse into a gallop.