Page 159 of A Dance of Shadows

Linus is just getting to his feet. Thin streaks of blood dribble down his face from Sprite’s scratches, but when he sees me, he chortles. His gaze fixes on my legs.

I’m abruptly aware of the clamminess of damp fabric clinging to my skin. My gaze jerks down just for a second, but that’s enough.

The medics filled my drawers with extra padding to see me through the early hours after the birth. The strain of the fight has overwhelmed their preventative measure.

Blood saturates the fabric all down my inner thighs.

My legs wobble under me. I adjust my grip on the knife, willing my body to stay steady, my mind not to fail me.

As I shield my daughter’s cradle, Linus saunters around the bed toward me. He stops to pick up his wine bottle and smashes it on the floor, sending a burst of the liquid’s sour scent into the air.

Holding the broken bottle by its neck, he points the circle of jagged glass toward me. “I might not even need to stab you at this point. You’re already bleeding out. But I’d much rather take the final honors.”

My lips draw back from my teeth as if I can intimidate him with a snarl. Coraya releases a faint whimper.

As much as I’d like to lie down and echo that sound, I keep my feet planted and my knife raised.

I still have a chance. As long as I’m still breathing, I have a chance.

Linus stalks toward me, his eyes glinting as hard as the shards of glass. Any second now, he’s going to spring again.

One stab in just the right spot. That’s all it’ll take to stop him.

He halts a few paces away from me. His muscles coil in anticipation.

And with a flash of golden curls and curved steel, an identical figure hurtles out of the wall toward us.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Aurelia

At the sight of Marc’s disheveled form, a cry bursts from my lips. I was so focused on his twin, so lost in terror and pain and the determination to survive, that I didn’t hear the murmur of the hidden panel opening.

Linus jerks around. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips for just an instant before we both realize his brother is charging athim, not me.

Linus throws himself backward. His feet trip over each other, but his clumsy sway may be what saves him from the worst of the swing of Marc’s dagger.

As it is, the blade severs the silk of his shirt across his biceps and one side of his chest. Blood darkens the purple fabric.

“What thefuckare you doing?” Linus demands in a ragged voice. As Marc wheels, his twin scrambles farther away from both of us. “Where have you been? What happened to you?”

Those are all reasonable questions. I don’t have the faintest idea how Marc not only freed himself from the hidden servant room but also found himself a weapon and made his way here.

He’s wearing the same clothes we kidnapped him in: the loose, almost casual tunic and trousers, badly rumpled now. When he shoots a quick glance my way, his face looks sallow other than the dark smudges beneath his eyes.

I think I’ve slept more than he has in the past night.

At the sight of the blood drenching my drawers, a shudder runs through his frame. I’d swear he somehow pales even more.

He swivels back toward Linus with a wave of his dagger, but I can’t help noticing his grip on it looks a little unstable.

When didhelast eat? Did my princes ever get some water to him?

Now that he’s lost the element of surprise, the outcome of this fight might not be anything like a sure thing.

Marc’s voice crackles like autumn leaves. “What the fuck areyoudoing? Trying to kill our wife—are you insane? No, I don’t even have to ask that. Obviously you are. I still didn’t think— This ends here, Linus.”

He takes a couple of steps toward his twin.

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