Page 68 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
A sickening crunch echoed through the chamber.
“Bris… run.” Achilles tried to push her away.
Aggie wiped at his bleeding nose with the back of his hand, his laughter ringing out—cold, hollow, inhuman. “Even bleeding out, you still fight like you have a chance,Your Royal Highness.” Growling like an animal, he lunged, pressing his forearm against Achilles’s throat with deliberate slowness, watching coldly as his victim’s struggles grew weaker.
Bris couldn’t stand there, paralyzed. No matter how much her cousin claimed he’d keep him alive, the psychopath would accidentally kill him with his unfeeling game. She ran at Aggie. “Let him go!”
Her cousin’s hand shot out, backhanding her with such brutal force that she couldn’t feel the pain—only that her head felt completely disconnected from her body. Her vision exploded into stars and blurred edges.
“You should be thanking me for this opportunity.” Aggie’s conversational tone circled through her woozy brain as he choked her husband out with clinical detachment. “We’ve got great plans for you.” Her vision cleared enough to catch his predatory grin. “Yes, a very special mission for a very special boy. Won’t that be fun?”
Achilles’s eyes rolled back under Aggie’s chokehold. The fight was draining out of him with each passing second.
Raw desperation crashed through her as she plunged her hands into the frigid surface. Feeling frantically underwater, her fingers closed around a long brass pole—part of the rope barriers that had fallen when the crypt flooded. She hefted it like a club, water streaming from the gleaming metal.
Achilles was unresponsive. Was she already too late? She’d better not be! She lunged forward with all her strength, swinging the brass pole in a wide arc that connected with Aggie Mnon’s skull with a satisfying crack.
He growled out and spun around, using the strength of his movement to punch her. Never feeling such raw power used against her, she fell backward. Her body dropped into the deeper water between two ancient tombs. The sounds faded from Aggie’s heavy curses and Yiorgos’s screams to the smooth rush of water as she sank beneath the surface.
No, no! She wouldn’t leave this world without a fight! Every fiery piece of her temper connected to her heart, andshe exploded back through the water, gasping, seeing Aggie advancing on her again with murderous intent written in his dead gaze. Blood seeped from his hairline, down his face and he was too crazed to notice.
“Well, well, dear cousin, so delighted to finally meet you in person. You’re every bit the bratty little hellcat I expected. Your devoted husband can watch you drown like one,” he promised with a snigger, even as she backed away from him, unable to move faster in this water. “I’m sure he won’t mourn long—he’s got new conquests waiting for him.”
The monster was taunting her with Charisse while preparing to kill her? Remorseless psychopath! Every rumor she’d heard about Aggie was terrifyingly true! He snatched her arm and dragged her closer while she fought him. “Nothing personal, you understand. You wouldn’t cooperate with our plans. Now we go to Plan B.”
And just like that, he shoved her head back under the frigid water. Through the stream of bubbles, she watched Yiorgos’s terrified face above the surface, his enormous brown eyes wide with horror as he clutched that textbook like his life depended on it.
Those kids sure loved those books.
What? Were these seriously going to be her final thoughts? No! Yiorgos was just a child—he couldn’t watch her die this way! She kicked the malicious Myrdon prince in the knee with her heavy work boot, feeling the satisfying impact against his leg. He staggered back—enough for her to wrench her head free. She managed a few desperate gasps of air while he laughed at her struggles.
He came at her again, and she clawed at his face, leaving bloody furrows across his pale white cheek. Let him keep that to remind him of her! He grabbed her wrist with an animalistic snarl. The crushing grip made her cry out in pain, and thenseemingly from nowhere, the heavy textbook slammed into Aggie’s skull with a wet, meaty crack. He toppled backward into the dark water.
Achilles stood behind Aggie’s floating body, breathing hard and swaying on his feet, the government textbook dripping in his bloodied hand. He’d finally found good use for the propaganda!
He dragged her out of the water, pulling her against his chest, despite his bleeding arm. “Aggie’s always been a pretentious liar,” he breathed. “You’remybratty little hellcat. You got that?”
She melted into his embrace, feeling gloriously alive as he tightened his arms around her. The warmth of his blood seeped into her wet clothes. Sucking in her breath, she pressed her palm against his wounded arm where the bullet had torn through muscle and sinew.
“It’s nothing serious,” he insisted. His voice was strained with pain. She didn’t believe him for a second.
More echoes drifted from above—multiple whispers this time, heavy running—they listened as more pursuers tracked them down to the crypt. The freezing water had risen to their chests by now, leaving barely three feet of breathing space between the surface and the stone ceiling. Yiorgos perched high above on the tomb while the carved faces of ancient Tirrojan kings and queens watched their descendants’ struggle for survival.
“How absolutely poetic.” A woman’s voice reached them from the circular staircase above, cold and acidic. Something familiar about its tone made Bris’s blood run cold, though her exhausted mind couldn’t immediately place where it belonged. “You’ll be buried alive with the other failed royal pretenders.”
“Get some new material!” Achilles shot back, his voice tight with pain and frustration. “Ask the last maniac who tried those lines on us.”
“What did you do to him?” The woman sounded panicked now.
Good question! Where had he gone? Turning with sudden dread, Bris searched frantically for her fallen cousin. He had to be somewhere in these thick silty depths, ready to spring out like the ghoul he was. But did it really matter if he was the one who came back to finish them off? Judging by the urgent sounds and shouts above—they weren’t going to survive this next attack.
Well, Bris wouldn’t.
Her fingers tightened around Achilles, and she savored the strength of his arms—all of his power focused on keeping her alive. Would losing her really be that hard on him? It would be an easy way out of this marriage—he could drown his sorrows with Charisse after she was gone… but no…
She’d never seen such fierce protectiveness in his eyes, such raw, tortured emotion radiating from every line of his body. What would losing her do to him? She hadn’t truly believed the depths of his feelings until now, but… he turned to her, his heart hammering against hers. “Bris, listen to me… whatever happens next, just remember I’ve always loved you.”
Always?“Like a sister,” she confirmed.
