Page 75 of You're Not My King!

I scoffed, smirking. “Do you have a father?”

Loooow blow, but shit, it worked like a fucking charm. It was as if a switch had flicked. He charged, a raging bull with no horns and no tactics. His arrogance was stifling, making him blind to anything but me. I fished out the shard of rock from my bandage, cursing when my fingers fumbled. But just as he reached me, hand shooting out to grab whatever part of my body was closest, I got a firm hold on the makeshift weapon and applied every ounce of my strength and drive to plunge it deep into his bad leg.

Right between the missing scales under his knee.

He roared in pain, collapsing backward to paw at the wound, and I didn’t hesitate, didn’t give him the chance to recover, I just latched onto the throne, using it as leverage to kick out and land blows to his face and throat. The arrogant bastard had been so sure he could control me that he hadn’t bothered to bind my arms or legs. Sure, the collar restricted my movements, but with him writhing on the floor at my feet, he was close enough that I could punch and stamp and claw.

There was no skill behind my strikes, no pattern, I just pounced on him like an angry cat, a mama bear protecting her cub, and slammed into anywhere I could. I was a flurry of elbows, knees, and whatever part of my body I could utilize, pushing through the pain in my knuckles and aching muscles.

It probably looked savage, like a rabid animal attacking its prey, but I didn’t care. I felt fucking great. I aimed for soft spots when my mind wasn’t blinded by the frenzy, the scars where his scales had been punctured, offering him no protection. I was under no illusion that I could kill him myself, my punches were still weak, despite the intention behind them, but I was gonna get in those hit points if it was the last thing I did.

“You hurt my mate. You hurt my friend.” The words gritted out of me, almost mindlessly, as I felt every ounce of tension and fear that I’d built up over the last year leave my body in a rush. Every sickening crunch was like a strange sense of closure, finality. I had never done this with Zack, never gotten the chance to fight back, to reclaim my dignity and my self-worth. But I could now. I could fight for Vo’ak, for Cesare, but most importantly, I would fight for me. My freedom.

Even if it was the last thing I did.

“You don’t get to hurt me anymore, you fucking asshole.”

As I expected, the chief eventually managed to regain the upper hand, using his alien strength to overpower me, flipping our positions. My head slammed into the ground, knocking me dizzy as blow after blow was aimed at my face. I was able to lift my arms between us as a shield, softening some of the punches, but he just moved to my body instead. I was going to die if he didn’t stop, and judging by the cruel glimmer in his eyes, he had no plans to. I couldn’t see Cesare, could barely see anything with my vision muddying at the edges. I just hoped the boy had enough common sense to run, or I knew he would be next.

That would be my last regret.

“You will die here,” Dacks-ur snarled, jaw clenched so tight the veins in his head bulged. “I will mount your lifeless body in front of your broken mate, over and over, before putting him out of his fucking misery.”

Yeah, my mate would be broken, there was no doubt about it, but this cunt could never even fathom the wrath my dead body would unleash. His little tantrum would pale in comparison to whatever range of emotions Vo’ak would feel toward the idiot who’d dared to put his hands on what was his. It was the influence of an intense love that he could never understand. My mate would flay him alive before he could even get a word in, and that thought had me smiling maniacally.

“Vo’ak will fucking destroy you,” I slurred with a gurgling laugh, blood spattering from my mouth. The chief faltered. “I can die knowing my mate will avenge me. That he won’t only kill you, but he’ll chop you up, piece by piece, and wipe your very existence from the universe. Tell me, would anyone do the same for you?”

I saw a flicker of awareness pass over his face, his throat bobbing with a swallow. It was as if a record had scratched in his brain, and he wavered above me, but I also noticed the second he came back online.

He shook his head, snarling until a foamy drool collected under his fangs before drawing back his arm, powering up the punch that I knew would be my last. I braced for it, leaning into the same tactic as the last time I’d been on the brink of death—closing my eyes and envisioning my happiest memory. It was a simple one, soft furs against my skin, Vo’ak’s woody scent in my nose as his body curled around mine, keeping me safe and warm. Protected and loved.

I felt myself smile.

The killing blow never came.

Instead, there was a sickening squelch, and I peered up at Dacks-ur, flinching at the glazed expression of shock on his face; eyes wide, jaw hanging unnaturally as a river of blue poured from the corners of his mouth. I frowned, and it hurt, as I realized his hand had dropped to his side, limp and forgotten.

He was almost in slow motion as he fell forward, a domino toppling over and landing half on top of me, crushing my arm, but I didn’t care. Cesare was there, standing over us, clutching a bloodied knife in his shaking hand, breaths panicked and eyes distant, unblinking. I glanced at the chief’s motionless body, at the blue blood gushing from the wound in the back of his head, before returning my attention to Cesare. An overwhelming rush of pride welled in my chest.

He’d killed him.

I hacked a cough, the dead weight constricting my already withering lungs. The sound seemed to break Cesare from his trance as he let the knife clatter to the stone floor before rushing to me, using every ounce of strength to roll the chief to the side. I inhaled shallowly, surprised to realize I wasn’t in much pain. It was probably the adrenaline—or impending death. Either way, I hoped to pass out before it wore off.

Cesare clutched my hand, his voice small when he said, “Reuben?”

“You saved us,” I remarked through wet coughs. There was definitely something punctured, and I thought my nose might have been broken again.

“I… I couldn’t let him hurt you anymore.” Cesare smiled, but it was a fragile thing, small and unconvincing.

“You were brave.” I squeezed his hand in reassurance. “But now you gotta leave. The guards’ll find him soon, and you’ll be in a lot of shit when they do.” I was kinda suspicious that they hadn’t swarmed the place already. Either they didn’t care, or they couldn’t tell the difference between roars of pain and sex noises. “Go find Tanner, tell him I’ll haunt him if he doesn’t help you.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

I was losing consciousness, floating in and out, and while I admired his stubbornness, I needed him to be safe. “Ces?—”

The sound of chaos outside cut me off. Cesare stiffened, panic shadowing his face as howls rang and the clang of swords echoed through the cave, but all I felt was a surge of relief.

My clan is here.

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