Page 34 of When Kings Fall

I can hear them getting closer. My pulse races, panic bubbling up in my throat. I glance around the room, desperate, until my eyes land on the polished silverware laid neatly on the table. Without thinking, I lunge forward and grab the first thing I can reach—a knife.

It’s small, delicate, meant for cutting into soft meats or fruits, but when I hold it in my trembling hands, it feels like a lifeline. I press my back against the wall, the knife held up against my throat, the cool metal biting into my skin. My heart is pounding so loudly I can barely hear my own breath.

“Let me leave.” My voice is shaking, but I can’t let them hear the fear. I press the blade harder until I feel the sting of it breaking skin. Warmth drips down my neck, slow and steady.

They freeze. I see it in their eyes, the hesitation, the uncertainty. They don’t think I’ll do it. They don’t know me. I press harder, feeling the sharp sting as blood trickles faster now. I see it in their eyes—the fear I’ve been waiting for.

The keys are tossed at my feet, clattering against the floor. One of them even hands me a gun, his eyes never leaving the knife at my throat. I take it, the weight of it settling into my hand. I don’t know what to do with it, but the fact that they gave it to me tells me everything I need to know. I’ve won.

The drive to the zoo is a blur. The knife is gone from my throat now, but the sting is still there, a reminder of how close I was, of what I’m capable of. I can’t stop thinking, my mind a whirlwind of fractured memories.

Ella’s soft laugh. Diarmuid’s rough hand gripping mine, pulling me through the darkness. Selene’s face flashing on the screen, and the sickening realization that everything is spiraling out of control. I can feel it slipping through my fingers, and all I can do is keep moving, keep driving.

When I finally pull into the zoo’s parking lot, Diarmuid’s team is already there. They’re a mess of chaos, shouting at each other, drawing attention. Perfect. It’s exactly what I need. I don’t even slow down, don’t glance at them. I slip past the guards, my body moving like it knows this place better than my mind does. I’m invisible again, but this time it’s deliberate.

I don’t bother wiping the blood from my neck. Let them see. Let them wonder what I had to do to get here.

The air is colder now, the night creeping in. My breath forms clouds in front of my face, but the chill doesn’t reach me. There’s something burning inside me, something fierce and unstoppable, something I’ve never felt before. It’s not just anger, not just fear. It’s something more, something that makes me feel like I’m finally where I’m supposed to be.

I follow the familiar path along the zoo wall, the main gate slightly ajar, it must have been where all the security came from, and they are still distracted by Diarmuid’s men, it’s the perfect opportunity to slip through and enter the zoo unnoticed. My feet find their way as if I’ve walked this route a thousand times.And maybe I have. In my mind, in my memories, I’ve been here before. But this time, it’s different. This time, it’s real. The stakes are higher, the consequences sharper.

As I near the lion enclosure, that feeling grows stronger, surging through me like wildfire. I know, without a doubt, that whatever happens tonight, I’m going to make sure we all walk away. Diarmuid. Selene. Me. We’re going home.

No matter what it takes.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Selene

THE TUNNEL SEEMS to stretch endlessly ahead, twisting and turning, the walls narrowing and widening in odd intervals. It’s disorienting, and that feels intentional—like the whole place was designed to confuse, to break down any sense of direction. I can’t even tell if the sound of trickling water is close or far. It could be right around the corner or miles away. The dim, uneven lights cast shadows that loom and retreat, making it feel like something is always watching from just beyond the edges of my vision.

Ben walks ahead of me, his movements almost too confident, like he’s been here before. His footsteps are steady, deliberate. Each step he takes feels like a countdown to something terrible, something inevitable. And yet, I follow. I have to follow him. I tell myself it's because I need answers, but deep down, I know it’s more than that. There's a pull between us, a sick magnetism I can’t shake, even as my instincts scream at me to run.

We walk in silence for what feels like hours, though it could have been minutes. Time is just as twisted down here as the tunnels themselves. Then, without warning, Ben stops. I don’t see the guards until it’s too late.

Two men wearing dark, nondescript uniforms round the corner ahead. My heart lurches into my throat, and for a split second, I think we’re caught. My body tenses, preparing for a fight—or flight. But Ben doesn’t hesitate. Not for a second.

With a swift, fluid motion, Ben draws a blade from his side and lunges at the first guard. The man barely has time to register the threat before the knife is buried deep in his chest. There’sa sickening sound—a mix of steel cutting through flesh and the strangled gasp of a man dying. The guard crumples to the ground, dead before his body even hits the floor. My stomach twists violently at the sight, and I take a step back, my hand flying to my mouth. My heart beats wildly in my chest, like a frantic bird in a cage trying to get free. My mind flashes back to a moment of me sitting at my bedroom window, looking down on the garden, wanting freedom from my parents, from my life, even from myself. At the corner of my eye, a daddy long legs flapped its wings so hard, trying to break free from the spider web it had caught itself in. The spider had moved close but the daddy long legs kept beating its wings. I had considered opening the window and breaking the web, but I had instead sat and watched until it finally stopped and the spider moved across the insect. The memory shatters as a body is slammed against the tunnel walls close to me. Ben has the second guard.

Ben’s knife flashes again, but this time it’s not as clean. The second guard jerks back, the blade catching him in the side instead of the chest. He stumbles, his hand flying to his wound, his eyes wide with shock and pain. Blood oozes between his fingers as he collapses to his knees, gasping and choking, his face twisted in agony. He’s not dead—not yet—but he’s dying. The wet, gurgling sounds that escape his throat are like nails scraping down my spine.

I feel paralyzed, my body rooted in place as I watch him writhe on the ground, every breath a struggle. I can’t tear my eyes away from the horror unfolding in front of me. My own breath is shallow, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. Every instinct is telling me to run, but my legs won’t move. I’m trapped just like the daddy long legs was. Trapped and ready to be devoured.

And then Ben turns to me.

That smirk is back, that cold, calculating expression that chills me to the core. Slowly, deliberately, he pulls a second knife from his pocket and flicks it open. The metallic click echoes in the confined space, bouncing off the walls and reverberating through my bones. He takes a step toward me, holding out the knife, offering it like it’s some twisted gift.

“Finish him.”

The words are soft, almost gentle, but they hit me like a punch to the gut.

“What?” My voice is a whisper, barely audible over the sound of the guard’s labored breathing.

“Finish him,” Ben repeats, stepping closer, pressing the knife into my trembling hand. His fingers curl around mine, forcing me to grip the handle. “He’s suffering. You don’t want to leave him like this, do you?”

I stare at the guard, his face contorted in pain, his body shaking. He’s dying, but not fast enough. Not cleanly. I feel sick. The knife in my hand is heavy, impossibly so, and my vision swims as I try to comprehend what Ben is asking—no, forcing me to do.

“I—I can’t,” I stammer, trying to pull back, but Ben’s grip tightens around my hand, holding me in place.

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