Page 46 of The Order: Rise of the New Empire

"You're pr-"

Driving the knife into the woman neck with little to no thought, I silence the words she dared to utter in both of these men's presence, letting the sound of her own blood choking her drown out the words she might have spoken. Feeling her hand remain plastered on my stomach, I raise and slam the knife down repeatedly, watching the way her husband cowers, horror lining his eyes. Repeating this action until her limp hand falls away from beneath my cloak, her blood coats my skin, my tongue licking clean the red touching my lips.

It's her or you.

The same thought that has been haunting my mind for months.

"You let go of your Hold," I hiss, craning my head back toward Atticus.

"What's a little fun-"

Jabbing the point of the blade into her husband's eye, his frantic cries die down, his body slumping to the floor, joining his wife in her still position. Watching the pool of red collect around me, I look at my reflection in the remnants of death, pulling the blade clean from the man's head, allowing my tongue to graze over the side of the blade. Eyeing down Atticus, the woman's scar touches my mind.

"I'm not too fond of games, Mr. Hawthorn."

Without thinking, I toss the blade through the air, ready to watch its point collide with the man's chest. Grabbing the blade before it can make impact, the young, naive commander takes a deep breath, all of his guards reaching for their weapons. Shakily holding the blade, his eyes slowly avert to me.

"All in fun games," I mock. "Not so fun when the cards are no longer in your hand."

Laughing like a mad man, Elyon squeezes the man's shoulders, Atticus nodding toward his guards, urging them to lower their weapons.

"What did I tell you?" Elyon questions, squeezing the man tight. "She's just what I promised."

Dropping the blade to the floor, Atticus snaps, pointing to the two bodies, his hand healing quickly.

"I suppose you're right. It was my mistake to think of you as anything but an equal."

Games.

It's nothing but games with Elyon.

He knows the truth.

He is just waiting for me to let them all free.

But then he wins.

Feeding into any of this allows him to win.

I have to play his rules.

I have to keep Xavier and Kai safe.

My hand grazes my stomach.

I have to keepyousafe.

Gathering the bodies like it is second nature, the guards begin to collect what blood is left in the bodies, cleaning the space with great efficiency.

Grabbing three glasses, Atticus fills the cups straight from the tap, allowing us all to partake in a drink.

"And you swear you and your daughter are capable of creating a less defective breed of Marked? Ones that the chips and Veilsmay work on with 100% efficiency?" the commander questions, his only true motive power.

"Clearly, second guessing either of us is in no one's best interest," Elyon smiles, taking a long drink from the glass.

"Of course we can," I snap, feeding into Elyon's wants. "Why spit in the face of those offering you complete control?" I question, eyeing the knife inches away from the man's heart only moments ago.

"We've managed to weed out most of the Marked. Some hide in the Unfortunate sector, others in the Untouchable, some in the slums, but that can't be said about Sanctum's capital city-"

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