Page 220 of Upon Buried Embers
It.
I don’t think about my clan members.
I don’t think about my dragons.
All I can think about is her.
And that he has her.
With a roar, axe in hand, I rush for her. Guards come at me, swords ready and I swing, uncaring of who is in my way, who gets hurt or who dies.
“Don’t use the vapor yet,” I hear the king shout, but I’m too busy punching a guard in the face and swinging my axe down on another.
The guards descend on me, and I growl, splitting heads and arms, severing thighs and taking hands clean off. All the while I hear her crying, shouting for me, not understanding and so fucking scared.
Meanwhile the guards try and wrestle me down, try to take my axe from me and restrain me, to get me under control, but they can’t.
They have what is mine.
The haze takes over. My booted feet kicking, my left hand punching as my axe comes down on another guard’s head, leaving more bodies in my wake.
One thing does manage to stop me though.
It was quiet amongst the guards shouting, but I heard it.
A pained cry.
Hercry.
I stop, my head snapping to her. A guard has her hair in his fist, pulling back so tightly that I can feel the sting from here. She scratches at the guard, trying to get him to release her.
I will remove that hand.
But that’s not what has me pausing, it’s the knife to her throat.
My hands fall limply at my sides, her pain-filled eyes staring right back at me.
She whimpers, and my jaw clenches.
She’s got blood on her, and I don’t know if it’s hers or someone else’s, and she’s bleeding from the side of her head.
“Let her go!” I shout, chest heaving.
“Back up a little,” the king says, waving a hand and the guards do so, but only so I have a clear view. “You owe me sixteen guards.”
I owe him nothing.
“Let. Her. Go.”
“Oh?” he swirls his drink. “But is this not what we had a deal for?”
I eye my Little Whisperer as her brows furrow in confusion, blinking widely.
The king looks at her and laughs.
“Oh? She doesn’t know?” He laughs harder, and my chest heaves at what he’s about to do. “Remove the cloth from her mouth.”
Her sweet, scared voice hits me.
