“This is Princess Annika of Islor.” Tyree hesitates. “She is with me, Mother.”
“She is one of his creations and is not to be trusted.”
“I trust her.” He takes a step toward me, then another, watching his mother closely.
“Very well. Bow, child,” she commands.
I set my jaw. Never. “I am an Islorian princess. I do not bow to Ybaris.”
Her lips peel back with a snarl. “Then I have no use for you.”
I crumble to the ground in crippling pain, every vein in my body straining against my skin as if about to explode.
85
Tyree
“What are you doing?” I roar. Mother’s signature move is stealing breath from people’s lungs. She does it often. But this looks different, like Annika’s veins are trying to crawl out of her skin. “Stop!”
“If she does not bow to me, then she bows to him,” she sneers.
Blood drips from Annika’s eyes while Destry gapes, frozen.
“I am in love with her! Stop!” I charge forward, reaching for her wrist. In the next moment, I’m flying, slamming into the stone wall. With a grimace, I pull myself up.
She is not going to relent.
She is going to kill Annika.
She may as well kill me next.
I cannot allow this. The token blade that was embedded in her throat is within reach. Grabbing hold of it, I launch it through the air. It embeds deep into her back.
With a cry, my mother buckles to the floor.
Ignoring the shock of what I’ve done, I rush for Annika, pulling her limp body off the ground, her eyes rolling. I cradle her head in my arms, wiping the tears of blood away with my thumbs. “Say something, please, Annika,” I urge, my heart threatening to stop beating.
Her lips move, barely. “Your mother … is delightful.”
I pull her close to me, resting my forehead against hers. “You are too stubborn to die. Stay with me.”
“I will, only so I can hold this over your head for eternity,” she whispers, her voice hoarse.
I chuckle despite everything. “You can punish me twice a day, morning and night. I will strip and hand you the flog.”
She licks her lips. “You would enjoy that far too much.”
“Perhaps. We will have to find out.” Because if there is anything I am certain of, it is that this Islorian has stolen my heart and I will kill anyone who tries to separate me from her.
“She lives, still.” Destry nods to where my mother struggles to ease herself up. “And I do not think she is who you think she is, my friend. Not anymore. The shadow consumes her.” Her short sword is in her hand, her knuckles white around the hilt.
Whatever version of Queen Neilina this is, I will not allow her to harm Annika again. Easing Annika to the ground, I stand and stroll over, flipping this person onto her back.
She gasps as the dagger digs deeper into her.
“Who are you?” I demand, my rage overtaking any loyalty or love I might feel for the female who stares up at me.
She sputters a cough, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. “Your only hope against Malachi. Without me, you are all dead.” With another rattling, wet cough, she goes still, death meeting me in her gaze.