Page 42 of The Blood Crown

The door cracked open as the guard’s face appeared. The one with thick braids the color of hoarfrost, dark silver where they crowned his skull, paling as they trailed down his shoulder.

His size was enough to give her pause—but swallowing her fear, her gold eyes raised to where he towered above her.

Hand resting on the sword at his hip, impatience flared in his expression. “What do you—”

“The keys.” She threw every ounce of will she possessed into the words, not allowing him the chance to look away from her—that had been her mistake with Alaric, and she wouldn’t make it again.

The guard froze, his mind seeming to war against his instinct where he stood in front of her.

She poised herself, ready to reach for one of the daggers strapped across his chest—her stare focused as she said more forcefully, “The keys,” she lifted her wrist and pointed to the cuff, “who has them.”

His eyes became glassy, silver brows knitting together. His pupils dilated as her command took root. “The Captain . . .” he mumbled.

Of course.

He shook his head, a small amount of clarity coming back into his eyes as he reached for the blade at his side. But his movements were slow, clumsy, as if he was still under her thrall but his mind was fighting it.

She ripped one of his daggers loose, sinking the blade into his neck to the hilt, his eyes going wide with shock as he helplessly reached for it before collapsing to the floor.

She spared a glance down the quiet tunnel before hooking her hands beneath his arms and dragging his body into her chambers.

Rifling through his uniform, she removed the smaller blades from him, checking his pocket for any keys—anything of use.

She stood, looking down at the body of the guard, a fire lighting inside her.

She was done playing theparasite.

She would make herself a pox on this place.

Chapter 22

Keeping to the shadows, Aurelia recited the turns she’d memorized through the branches of tunnels.

The fork appeared ahead, the left side leading into gloom, smelling of decay and forgotten things.

She pressed her back against the wall as two guards came into view, barring the entrance to the dungeons in the lower level.

Ducking back with a silent curse, she slammed her eyes shut.

One guard, she could have managed, but two . . .

Think.

She was running out of time. Someone would come to her chambers eventually, only to find her door unguarded—a body in her room.

A pulsing rhythm began somewhere in the distance.

Opening her eyes, she turned toward the sound.

But the noise didn’t seem to originate from anywhere—because it wasn’t quite a noise at all.

It was a vibration—a humming frequency rippling through her blood.

This sensation just beneath her skin was familiar. A slow, steady pound through her bones, making her break out into a cold sweat.

The temple.

She’d felt this call, like a war drum beating in her head as she’d drawn closer to the ring.

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