Page 71 of A Prince So Cruel

Kalyll towered over them, a wolf-looking creature three times the size of any normal canine, ribbons of darkness trailing behind him.

Belasha gasped. “Elladan!” Panic over her husband suffused her voice and she sprang toward the king.

“Wait!” I tried to grab her arm, but she had Fae speed and slipped away easily.

“You will pay for this.” The king threw his hands forward, directing a stream of fire straight at the beast’s huge, roaring maw.

Jeondar did the same, and I pressed a hand to my mouth, my heart skipping a beat as a mass of fire enveloped Kalyll.

When the flames dissipated, the beast stood untouched, but one thousand percent more pissed off. Roaring, he reared up on hind legs, then swiped one of his strange taloned hands, paws, whatever they were, at the king.

“No!” Jeondar cried out as his father went flying and crashed against the wall.

Guards suddenly appear behind the beast, some with their swords drawn, others with magic at their fingertips.

The beast leaped past Jeondar even as the latter blasted fire at Kalyll’s underbelly as he soared overhead. One leap and the beast stood in front of the queen. His eyes flashed blue with unmistakable fury. It seemed that, all along, Belasha had been his target. The beast seemed apt at holding a grudge, and maybe this had something to do with their disagreement earlier today.

Rather than look intimidated, Belasha stood her ground and flung a hand toward one of the marble statues. There was the sound of rock groaning, and the massive sculpture of a sphinx—half woman, half lion—came to life. It jumped from its pedestal, making the floor quake.

As Kalyll was distracted by the animated chuck of rock, I grabbed the queen’s elbow and tried to pull her back. “We should get out of here.”

“Don’t touch me,” she spat, shaking me off.

The sphinx lumbered toward the beast. The guards stood back. Kalyll stared impassively at its foe. Then, as if he were doing nothing more than brushing lint off his shoulder, he rammed into the sphinx with a mighty crash and broke it into a million pieces.

Belasha gasped and took a step back. If she had known that not even Qrorium had been able to stop him, she might have run to safety with me. Now, instead, she was the focal target of a very angry, vindictive creature.

“Belasha, run,” the king’s hoarse voice called from behind the beast.

But it was too late to run. The beast attacked.

Without thinking, I ran in front of the queen and planted my feet firmly.

“Stop,” I said, my tone calm as resignation washed over me.

I expected to die, expected my bones to be crushed under the pressure of the beast’s mighty jaws. Instead, I found myself face-to-face with a pair of large, luminescent blue eyes.

My chest vibrated as the creature roared in anger, his terrible force restrained by… by what? Why wasn’t it attacking? Why wasn’t it making a meal out of me as the queen found her chance to escape?

I stared into the depths of those unfathomable eyes. Something lived there that I recognized. It wasn’t anything I could truly see, but something I felt in my soul, like recognizing a familiar tune or catching a scent that unleashed a thousand sought-after memories.

Kalyll was in there, and he was fightingnotto harm me.

“Go,” I whispered.

The beast shook his head, the thick mane swaying from side to side, that darkness that possessed Kalyll also fighting.

“Please, go,” I begged.

For a moment, the beast shook on the spot, caught in a battle of wills. His head jerked to one side as ragged breaths tore out of him, sounding like half growls. His huge, razor-sharp teeth gleamed with saliva, and large drops of it splattered to the flower-covered floor.

Fear ran liquid in my veins as I prayed for Kalyll to prevail. Then, at last, the beast gave a frustrated growl, ran toward an open balcony, took a great leap, and disappeared into the night.

Legs wobbling, I lowered myself to my knees, unable to keep standing. My insides felt strange, watery somehow, as if the fear had dissolved them or replaced them.

“A healer,” Jeondar shouted, his voice sounding as if it was traveling through a long tunnel. I raised my eyes in his direction. He was kneeling next to his father, applying pressure to his chest. Someone, a slender Fae with hair like spun gold, rushed in to help.

Belasha took a moment to ask me how I was doing, glancing down at me with a frown and an expression that suggested her mind was swimming with thousands of questions.

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