Page 5 of The Death King

And in my heart…I knew he was dead.

There was no way out.

I headed back the way I came, passing servants who tried desperately to leave the castle through the other exits, but they were all blocked by fallen debris. The castle was already destroyed, and when I felt a rush of cold air, I knew the roof was gone and only the night sky was above me.

I ran back to where my father had just been, but the soldiers were gone. There was no way out of the castle, so I didn’t know where he went. Hiding out in a crumbling castle didn’t seem like the most strategic move.

“The king is dead.”

I turned to the hallway where I’d heard the soldier make the announcement.

“General Vitton is in charge now. He has instructed us all to abandon the castle and fall in line with the ranks.”

I sprinted into the hallway and saw the soldier who had just spoken, standing in front of my father’s study. I recognized his face, had known him my entire life, but in that moment, his name was forgotten. “What did you just say?” My tears were suppressed by a dam made of flimsy material, and any moment, the water would spring free.

He stilled when he saw me, his eyes shifting back and forth in a panic. “Princess, you were supposed to leave the castle?—”

“The passage is blocked. Lieutenant Finney is dead. What—what did you say about my father?”

“I—I’m sorry.” The other soldiers started to file out. He glanced at them, knowing he needed to evacuate the castle before it collapsed on all of us. He looked at the study before he turned away. “Run, Princess. There’s nothing left for you here.” He joined the others, leaving me alone in the hallway, the walls shaking again as the dragon pulled out another section of the stone.

Instead of fleeing with the others, I looked inside the study.

There he was, collapsed on top of the surface, his body still in the chair where he used to sit every day, going over ledgers or poring over old maps. The place where he would work while I read by the fire.

Stunned by the horror, I stared for seconds, traumatized but unable to look away. Then I sprinted to him. “Father!” I grabbed his body and shook him, like he would wake up from this stress-induced coma, but his body was limp and lifeless.

That was when I noticed the vial in his dead fingertips.

A vial with drops of yellow at the bottom.

I stared as I stepped back, unable to absorb the truth of what had just happened. “No…” I cupped my mouth and stifled the hot tears, the kind so sharp and painful they sliced my skin on the way down. The castle continued to tremble, the kingdom was about to be slaughtered, but all I could do was cry.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, so distinctive they made me stifle my tears. My childhood had been spent hearing the tap of metal from the soldiers as they passed my bedroom door in the middle of the night. I could hear them approach from outside my father’s study as we sat by the fire together. And this sound…was nothing like that.

It was heavy, not metallic. It was purposeful and confident. Menacing.

The castle stopped shaking. All went quiet.

Then the Death King stepped into the study, his sword hooked across his back, his presence so potent I felt that I would see him even if I were blind. His men appeared behind him, in similar armor but with dark shades of gray rather than his matte black.

I crept back into the corner, hoping not to be seen, my tears subsiding.

The Death King slowly made his way to the desk, looking down at my father with a subtle look of disgust. He eyed the vial before he pried it from my father’s limp fingers and held it up to examine the yellow drops that remained. “Nightshade—a coward’s respite.” He threw the vial down, the glass shattering on impact. “Search his study and quarters.”

One of the men turned to the bookshelves next to me, and he stilled when he noticed me, crouched down behind one of the armchairs. He didn’t have the same strength or power as the man he served, but he was formidable in his own right. There was definite savagery in his gaze. “Found something.” The corner of his mouth rose in a sneer.

My hand reached into my belt and gripped the hilt of my dagger. It was no match for his sword and his strength, but if I was going to die, I was going to take an eye or a nose with me. I tried to back up farther, but the wall was like a mountain, and I was stuck.

He kicked the chair aside, and it toppled over. “Ooh, she’s pretty.” He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me forward to the floor in front of him. “Small and pretty.” He kneeled down, grabbed me by the neck, and squeezed. “Exactly how I like ’em.”

Tears burned my eyes as the fear made me tremble. The sickening smile, the taunt in his gaze, it was the stuff of nightmares. With a jolt of strength that came from the instinct to survive, I swiped my dagger across his neck, cutting a distinct line of blood.

He jolted back and grabbed his neck to stanch the bleeding. “Bitch.”

I kicked him aside and tried to run for it, but the other guard was ready for me. He slapped me across the face with his metal glove and sent me flying back to the ground.

The first guard continued to grip his neck to stop the bleeding, but his eyes promised retribution. “Gut her like an elk.”

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