Page 260 of The Wild Prince's Favorite
It wasn’t her father, but she noticed a man who was standing guard outside, a bow in his hand, and she recognized him asone of her father’s warriors; it was one of the bastards who had grabbed her and shoved her during the gathering.
“Get him,” she hissed to the dragon.
Kein roared and surged like a fury.
The man, who had probably relaxed upon noticing the dragon had only been making lazy loops until then, barely had time to panic, let alone flee. For its humongous size, the orange dragon could be deadly fast. Kein’s angry fangs ripped him apart mid-scream, and the dragon threw the bloody remains down the rocks with disdain.
Then, it climbed on the flank of the mountain, looking for any other humans to devour, its claws ripping at the mountain’s flanks, triggering slow avalanches and landslides. Alezya let the dragon furiously scratch all it wanted; if she wanted to get to her father, Kein might have to dig the Deklaan Clan out.
The dragon was latched onto the cliff and almost vertical to the ground, so Alezya had to focus all she could on holding on, but she kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, knowing they were more vulnerable when they weren’t up in the air. And, sure enough, she saw a man appear in a dangerously close opening; she didn’t hesitate, and with the fluidity and assurance only a seasoned climber could have, she leaped to the mountainside and hurried to reach him.
Whether by luck or his own distraction, the man failed to notice her in time, too fixated on aiming for the dragon. Alezya reached him right before he saw her and pushed him off the edge.
His scream tore through the air, echoing off the cliffs until it was silenced by a brutal end.
She didn’t have time to look down; she glanced into the opening and seized her only weapon, the dagger she’d gotten from Kassein. It was a small blade, but it was sharp, and it felt right in her grip as she ventured inside while Kein continued tocause chaos outside. She had to find her father, kill him, and put an end to this.
Storming into those tunnels alone was probably reckless, but she had no choice; each second her father lived, more lives were sacrificed.
At the very least, she was in her element, infiltrating dark tunnels and making herself as silent and invisible as she could. Alezya was no fighter, no warrior, but she had spent years mastering the art of moving unseen. She knew how to make herself silent and invisible in the darkness, and Kein was providing a remarkable distraction too.
She could feel the ground shaking under her feet and hear the chaos of panicked men weighing their chances to get out of there before they were buried alive. From the frantic shouts echoing through the tunnels, it was clear her father had kept only his most trusted guards by his side, maybe half a dozen men or so.
Before long, she heard his voice barking sharp, commanding orders like he always did, trying to prompt his men to get out and fight the dragon while he would no doubt flee somewhere like the coward he was. Alezya sneered and crept deeper into the tunnels. She was about to round a corner when a man appeared, a flash of surprise in his eyes, and she moved out of pure reflex. Her wrist snapped up, the blade slicing across his throat in a single practiced motion. Kiera had drilled this move into her, and now, without a thought, it had come to her from muscle memory.
The man’s breath hitched, his eyes wide with shock as he crumpled to the ground, blood pooling at her feet. He was dead before Alezya even registered what she had done, but when she did, she had to cover her mouth to suppress a yelp of fright.
She had never killed a man in cold blood before.
Sure, she’d reacted instinctively, and she would likely be the one dead if she hadn’t, but it wasn’t easy to get over.
She squeezed her eyes shut for just a second, then forced herself to step over the body and keep moving, listening to Kein’s roars for comfort. She had wanted this war; her hands couldn’t remain blood-free when everyone else was risking their lives killing their opponents. With this thought in mind and a slightly shaking hand, she kept going in, cautious.
This time, she didn’t have time to silence the man before he spotted her at the end of the tunnel; Alezya knew he had seen her, and she tried to hurry, but she couldn’t get to him in time before he shouted.
“She’s here! That damn bitch is here!”
Alezya threw herself at the man, dagger first, with the fury of a hungry dragon. This time, it wasn’t anything that Kiera had taught her; this was about sheer survival and doing as much damage as possible to silence this man before more came.
Blood flew, and she didn’t know who it belonged to, but she didn’t stop. She swung her dagger like a mad woman, so focused on defending herself she barely registered what the man’s blade was doing. Some of her movements felt familiar, echoes of lessons drilled into her by Kiera, but mostly, she was doing what she knew: she fought for survival.
She fought like a wild animal backed into a corner; she struck anywhere and everywhere she could in a frenzy. She felt pain flaring across random parts of her body, but she didn’t stop.
Finally, she felt her blade sink deep, and she froze, slowly taking in the scene.
It was a gruesome sight.
She had cut the man on every visible patch of skin, and bleeding gashes disfigured his face, torso, and arms. Now, her dagger was sticking out of the side of his skull, and he crumbled backward.
It took Alezya everything she had to crouch down, ignore the pain that was searing all over her body, how much she trembled and hurt, and pull her dagger out with her bloodied hands.
She knew she was found. She knew more men were coming, but she stood, taking a second to face the raw emotions that shook her. There was blood everywhere, some of it hers, and the madness of what had just happened was a lot to take in.
Still, she ignored the blood dripping from her hands, her pounding heart, her ragged breath, and the pain that was already subsiding, and willed herself to move.
Footsteps were rushing her way, and she decided to shed her tattered cloak, which was soaked with rain and blood, heavy, torn, and impairing her movements. That’s when she noticed the streaks of white shimmering along her skin.
The wounds slashed across her body were closing; under the patches of blood, the raw flesh was gradually being covered by smooth, reptilian scales. Alezya let out a faint exhale of relief as the pain faded, and she realized she wouldn’t bleed out in this mountain, not with Kassein’s baby somehow protecting her. She wasn’t sure how good this healing magic was, but it was good enough for now.
