“Kill me? Can you kill the man who loved you like a father, Valda?”
Valda blinked at the sudden softness in his voice. Her sword wavered, and so did her powerful stance.
“If you don’t abdicate, I will kill you, your mate, and I will send out a platoon to kill all the Sealian survivors in the settlements.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I killed Skylians who opposed me. Do you think I will second-guess killing those parasites?”
“Valda…” Maris pressed her forehead to Valda’s strong back. “Please…”
The tension in Valda’s chest returned tenfold. She felt Maris’s warmth traveling over her body, seeping into her skin, and settling in her stomach. Maris was petrified for her people, as was Valda. If they both died, who would protect them?
“Please, darling,” Maris whispered only for Valda to hear.
The word of endearment shattered Valda’s brave veneer. And although she knew Maris used the term to manipulate her, Valda was just glad there was a glimmer of love in that word.
“Let’s recoup,” Maris breathed. “Let us choose our battles.”
Valda swallowed hard as she felt Maris’s hand over her waist. Reluctantly, she sheathed her sword and turned to face her. Maris’s eyes shone with worry. The sorrow and hatred were buried for now. Dipping her head at her mate, Valda turned back to Arwin.
“Fine.”
Arwin grinned. “Oh?”
“I abdicate. The crown is yours. You’ve caused enough innocent death as it is.”
“A wise decision really,” Eris interjected, but no one acknowledged her.
“I suggest you leave now. Don’t take any personal belongings, just leave. I will make it look like I killed you and your mate, and no one will go after you. Think of it as a gift. To live among your people in complete anonymity could be a blessing.”
Valda’s deep rumble disturbed the room’s consuming silence. Valda’s gaze fell on her mate again, giving her back to Arwin. The young woman was holding on to her own feelings, trying not to crumble under the pressure of their situation. Valda could feel it, and what hurt her the most was she couldn’t do anything to alleviate her pain. Valda brushed Maris’s arms with a soothing caress, pulling her to her chest.
Maris did not return the embrace.
“We will be all right. Please trust me.”
Maris did not reply, not even a nod of acknowledgment.
Without warning, Maris’s hands darted and clutched Valda’s shoulder, her fingers digging into the fabric of Valda’s shirt in sheer horror. Valda’s eyes widened in alarm as she heard Maris’s desperate cry, but before she could react, a chilling jolt tore through her back like an icy dagger, piercing deep into her muscles.
Agony ripped through Valda’s body, leaving her gasping for breath. With a surge of adrenaline, she forcefully pushed Maris away, her gaze frantically searching for the source of the pain.
Arwin stood before her, gripping the dagger that had just been wrenched from her back. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the pristine white marble floor.
Valda’s strength wavered, her energy draining away. She sank to one knee, her eyes fixed to the man she had once revered as a father. The blood from the dagger dripped relentlessly.
“Valda! No! No!” Maris’s desperate cries echoed through the air, her trembling hands futilely pressing against the gaping wound to stem the torrent of blood.
With a swift flick of his wrist, Arwin angled the dagger downward and jerked his head toward Maris. “I think we need to make this more convincing, don’t you?” his voice dripped with sinister intent.
Maris’s urgent tugs on her blouse urged her to rise despite the pain. Struggling to her feet, Valda leaned on Maris for support, leaving a trail of crimson behind. Her mate’s anguished pleas reverberated in her ears, fueling their shared desperation. They had to staunch the bleeding, they had to flee, they had to survive.
As they hurriedly sought refuge, Valda heard the relentless pursuit of another set of footsteps. They stumbled into the first room they could find—her mother’s chamber. The balcony doors stood ajar, allowing the frigid breath of the Skylian night to invade her already chilled skin. She shivered uncontrollably.
Valda’s breathing became labored, her vision blurred. Amidst her panting, Arwin’s voice pierced the haze. “This is not the way out!” he declared, interrupting Valda’s faltering thoughts.
Glancing down, Valda noticed the pool of crimson forming beneath her. Despite her wavering senses, she caught sight of Maris manipulating water from a nearby pitcher, making it float before her. In an act of desperation, the liquid surged into Arwin’s nostrils, choking him. Maris stood in a defensive stance, her fists clenched, striving to maintain her hold and deny him air. Valda could hear the suffocating gasps and gagging sounds, and a fleeting smile touched her lips before her strength gave way, and she collapsed to the ground.