Page 33 of A Kingdom This Cursed and Empty

I didn’t know who I was begging. The gods had forsaken hybrids long ago.

My heart cracked at the thought of dying here. Alone. At the thought of not making it back to Asinia and Tibris and Demos and the others. But it was Lorian’s face that flashed through my mind, his lips pulled back in a vicious snarl.

I yanked my power with everything I had. Blood streamed from my nose.

The forest went silent. I choked out a sob. It had worked. My head ached, my body rebelling at the use of my power. Winding the bandage around my arm, I stumbled back onto the path where the iron guard waited just foot-spans away.

He wore some kind of strange black armor, his helmet slung over his saddle. The bloodlust and triumph frozen on his face made me want to vomit. Instead, I used my good hand to grab his boot in an attempt to pull him down.

The huge man didn’t so much as move. My hold on my power was loosening already. My breaths came faster, my throat so dry, each inhale burned.

My hand hit something. The hilt of a knife, sheathed in his boot. I slipped it free and buried it in his thigh, where Tibris had taught me the largest artery was located. I stabbed once more, and my head spun. Moments. I had moments.

Yanking the knife out of his thigh, I slipped back off the path and behind a tree, time resuming without my input. The iron guard groaned, slumping, his horse continuing to move until the guard fell to a heap on the ground.

I darted forward, took his sword, and ignored the terror in his eyes as he gazed up at me.

“Did you cheer when you heard me scream?” I hissed.

He flinched. His stare turned glassy. He was already dead, although it would take a few minutes for him to succumb completely.

But his friends were on their way.

My head spun. I stumbled back into the forest, waited until the next horse galloped along the trail, and reached for the dregs of my power.

A hand slapped onto my mouth. I clawed at it and stilled. I knew that scent.

“Don’t fucking move,” Lorian hissed. “Stay here, or I swear to all of the gods, I’ll make you regret it.”

My mouth dropped open, and he released his hand. I whirled, but the Bloodthirsty Prince was already moving, his sword swinging.

He was in his fae form. The sight made my heart trip—memories of the castle gates merging with the sight of him now. He was even taller, moved even faster, but his shirt was wet with blood. Wet because…

Three arrows impaled him through the back. He’d taken three arrows. And yet he stood on the dirt path, arms folded, a dark scowl on his face as if he was annoyed by theinconvenience.

The iron guards arrived from both sides. Obviously, the other path had looped around. Lorian merely raised an eyebrow. “Where are the rest of you?”

The closest guard pointed at the unconscious man on the path. “The hybrid bitch is going to pay for that.”

I scowled. The hybrid bitch was ready to get this over with.

I opened my mouth. Lorian must have sensed it somehow, because his eyes shifted almost imperceptibly toward my hiding spot, gleaming with warning. His dark hair seemed to fly back from his face, his green eyes almost glowing above those razor-sharp cheekbones.

The iron guards leaped from their horses.

Lorian watched them, his expression speculative.

And then he struck.

I sucked in a breath.

I’d miscalculated. And I’d never truly seen Lorian fight. His sword flashed too fast to see, and he moved as if I’d frozen time just for him. The first guard fell to his knees, and Lorian kicked his body off the blade of his sword. The second guard lost his head before he realized Lorian was in front of him.

The third managed to swing his sword at least, but his scream as Lorian thrust his sword into his chest…it made me want to clamp my hands over my ears.

“Stop playing with them,” I hissed.

Lorian flicked me a glance. His eyes were frigid. “They would have done unspeakable things to you before they killed you.”

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