Page 101 of A Petal in the Crown

Thomas kicked at the soldier, connecting with his nose with a crunch, and he dropped Emma's arm, his hands flying up to his bloody face. “Fuck!” he screamed as Thomas dropped to his knees, yanking his arms forward as quickly as possible to break free from their grasp.

"Thomas!" Emma screamed, but even with her voice so loud her throat felt raw, he couldn't hear her, didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of his name. The soldiers cursed as Thomas rolled away and picked up his sword, swinging it at the soldier dragging Emma’s body deeper into the woods. The men moved forward in unison, and without thinking, Emma darted forward, jabbing her dagger between one soldier’s shoulder blades. He fell with a scream of agony, giving Thomas room to sweep his sword at the others’ legs. They jumped back, their eyes darting around nervously at the surprise attack.

Emma kicked the fallen weapons away, then turned back, closing her eyes as she slit another soldier’s throat.

"What the hell?" one of them exclaimed, stumbling back. Thomas took advantage of his shock, lunging forward and stabbing the soldier just below his left shoulder.

As if they’d practiced fighting together a thousand times, Emma ducked under a soldier’s arm, thrusting her dagger upward through a man’s sternum as another soldier charged toward Thomas. He dodged the attack, but stumbled as a soldier came at him from the side, and together the men fell to the ground.

Emma ran after him, looking for an opportunity to attack without harming Thomas as they grappled, flipping over and over as they fought for the soldier’s dagger. Thomas disarmed him, turning the dagger on the royal soldier and swiftly slicing through his throat, throwing the soldier’s spasming body off him.

As Thomas scrambled to his feet, the final soldier stalked toward Emma’s body, a cruel smile on his face as he raised his sword overhead and swung it down towards her exposed throat.

"No!" Thomas roared, diving toward her. Emma’s heart stopped as Thomas threw himself on top of her, shielding her with his body as the sword came down in a furious arc.

Emma sprinted toward him, launching forward and stabbing her dagger through the soldier’s back with all her might, but it was too late. The soldier’s sword was a second too fast, slicing down and cutting through Thomas’s throat with ease.

Emma screamed, a blood-curdling wail that shook the trees as she collapsed at Thomas’s side. "No, no, no," she sobbed, pressing her hand to his wound, but there was so much blood. More than she’d ever seen, hot and sticky on her hands as it bubbled from his throat. "Thomas!" she cried. He lifted his head, and in one final act of strength, wrenched the sword from the dying soldier’s grasp. Emma reached into her pocket, grabbing the moonflower petal with bloody fingers, but Thomas’s eyes had already glazed over with death.

"No, no, no," she begged again, pressing the petal between his lips. He lay still, unmoving, and Emma threw herself across him, her tears soaking into his bloody shirt as sobs racked her body.

"Please, no, Thomas!"

"Emma?" a voice said from behind her.

She sniffled, closing her eyes. "No," she whimpered again. “No. No. No.”

"Emma, it's okay," Thomas said, his hand now resting on her back, and even in death, his touch sent butterflies racing through her stomach.

“No!” she sobbed, refusing to turn. Maybe if she didn’t see it, it wouldn’t be real, but Thomas grabbed her shoulder, turning her and pulling her into his arms.

Emma threw her arms around him, not caring about the blood. Not caring about anything but holding him. "No. No. No!" she cried. The same word again and again, as if she was stuck in a loop. But she couldn’t break free from it. Because that would mean she believed it was happening—that Thomas was really dead.

"It's okay," he soothed, holding her tight in his strong embrace.

"How?" she cried. "How is it okay?" She sat up, not bothering to wipe away her blood or tears. A zap of electricity bolted through her chest. “The moonflower…” she trailed off, patting down Thomas’s pockets. "Where is it?" she asked frantically, her hands shaking.

Thomas shook his head, sadness in his eyes. "It won’t work, Emma. I’m gone."

"No," Emma cried again. “Just try. Please!”

Thomas exhaled, pressing his lips together and pulling the petal from his pocket. He placed it in his mouth, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Emma held her breath, waiting. She was tethered to the other side. It had to work. And yet… he remained kneeling beside her, his throat torn open, blood coating nearly every inch of his torso.

"You shouldn’t have done that," she whispered, collapsing into his arms again, sobbing. They were supposed to have time. This was only the beginning.

Thomas lifted her chin, his touch so gentle it made her heart hurt. "I would doanythingto protect you. I love you, Emma. I want you to live a good life. A long life. Okay? Don’t feel guilty for this—it was my choice.I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and I intend to keep that vow."

Emma sniffled, her body shuddering with each gasp for air. “There has to be a way…” Thomas's head snapped up, and Emma trailed off, following his gaze to where more soldiers approached, the same dead look in their eyes.

Thomas pulled back, wrapping his hands around her biceps. "We have to fight, Emma. You have to live."

And even through her grief and pain, she knew he was right. If Alaric’s soldiers were still coming, Lea still needed her. The kingdom still needed her.

"I love you," he said again, pulling her to her feet. "Forever," he whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I love you, too," Emma replied, gripping her dagger tighter as the soldiers advanced, unaware of their presence. They were searching for her, had been told what she could do. But they couldn’t let Alaric’s men kill her. She still had a job to do.

As the men closed in, their eyes fixed on her sleeping form, Thomas's body laying across it in his final act of sacrifice, they raised their weapons.

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