Page 189 of Bloodguard

I don’t think I’m that hurt, but I am.

Something swipes me across the face and knocks me to the ground. I roll to the side, barely avoiding Soro’s sword as it comes down.

As I start to rise, I’m kicked in the head.

Another kick belts me in the gut, spinning me away from the royal box.

I land with a grunt, the side of my face scraping against the sand.

My body demands I don’t move, begs me to rest.

It’s my own stubborn will that allows me to force myself to my feet.

The blur coming at me is impossible to track. I pivot and slice my sword up and down in quick motions that do absolutely nothing but cut through empty air and make Soro laugh.

He’s no wimp. He is a fighter like me, but he’s healthy and using his elven speed to his advantage.

Something hard nails me in the gut and sends me whirling and crashing to the ground once more. I try to spit out sand, but I can barely do more than keep breathing.

Except then Maeve cries out in pain, and everything that hurts me turns to nothing.

This is the woman I love.

My pain willneverbest hers.

I lie still, pretending to be more injured than I already am. It’s not hard. I’ve had a hell of a day.

Soro kicks my leg.

My stomach.

My chest.

And a second rib snaps.

The pain in my ribs is overpowered by the stinging cuts that crisscross my palms when I push my hand into the sand intermixed with salt.

Soro is still here. He’s not far. He’s behind me somewhere, gearing up for that next blow.

I rise slowly, purposely leaving my back vulnerable. Surrendering myself completely to instinct and intuition, I react to something I sense rather than something I see or hear.

I spin on my heel, the butt of my sword coming down in an arc and slamming into Soro’s sternum. His spine bows, and he falls. I flip my sword, hovering over him as the point of my blade pierces the flesh above his heart.

My breaths come in quick bursts full of pain and rage.

“Go ahead,” he dares me. “Do it. But if I go, she goes with me. No way in fuck will I ever allow someone like you to take my crown.”

My eyes dart to the royal box. Ugeen has my Maeve by the hair, her neck exposed and a dagger pressed to her throat.

I fall to my bloodied knees.

No.

Not her.

Every ache in my body, all the pain from my injuries—they don’t hold a candle to the deep chasm breaking open inside my chest. There is no choice here. I told myself I’d die for her, and I will, without hesitation.

She shakes her head to stop me, her eyes ramming closed when the tip of the dagger cuts a shallow line along her throat. Drops of blood well, staining her snow-white dress.

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