I don’t even hesitate, don’t even give myself time to panic before grabbing hold of his outstretched wrist and driving my knee up to meet his elbow. The sickening crack of his bone breaking blends in with a clap of thunder rumbling above us.
His sword slips from his hand and hits the ground as he cries out.
And then the earth is racing up to meet me.
He’s thrown me to the ground using every bit of Brawny strength and raw rage he can muster. The back of my head smacks the packed earth and I’m suddenly seeing spots again.
I can’t see.
I’m blinking ferociously, desperately trying to clear my vision. My head is pounding, feeling as though it’s splitting into two, and maybe it is. Something hot and sticky is oozing from the back of my head, and even in my hazy state, I’m certain that isn’t a good sign.
My vision slowly begins to return, clearing enough for me to see what is looming over me.
The king, sword clutched with his unbroken arm, a smile curling his cracked lips.
No.
I struggle to sit up, but a heavy weight pushes me back to the ground. His booted foot is crushing my ribs, pinning me beneath him helplessly.
Not like this. I refuse to die like this.
“Is that all you care about?” My voice sounds foreign in my own ears, scratchy and scared. “Power? Ruling over an Elite kingdom? Does human life mean nothing to you?”
“Ordinaries are a weak excuse for life. An embarrassment,” he growls. “They should have died with the Plague but instead they plague us. I’ve planned for this day a long time, waiting until I could rid myself of this Resistance. And I suppose I have you to thank for their downfall.” His smile is twisted, and my head is pounding as I try to understand what he’s saying.
“Only the strongest, the most powerful, will prevail.” He leans down slightly, his cold gaze boring into mine as he says, “It’s survival of the fittest, and the fittest are the Elites.”
He straightens, his boot still crushing me beneath it. “So, where were we?” He laughs like he’s said something humorous. “Ah, yes. I was ridding my kingdom of one more worthless Ordinary.”
He points the tip of his sword down at me, and I squirm under his boot. He’s so strong and I’m so weak—
“Unfortunately, Kai has grown more skilled than I am when it comes to playing with his kills. He was quite the quick learner. I taught him everything he knows, did he tell you that? He has me to thank for his cruelty.” I shudder when the sharp tip of his sword meets the skin of my cheek, just above my jaw.
And then he drags it down.
I might have screamed—I’m not sure. All I know is the slow, slicing pain trailing from my jaw and down my neck. Hot blood is pouring from the cut and pooling on my skin as rain stings the open wound. I feel my mouth moving but I don’t hear anything coming out, only the ringing in my ears.
He’s smiling when he finally drags his sword to a stop at my collarbone. “This is very entertaining. But maybe I should have let Kai do the honors, hmm?”
I feel sick, and all I smell is the metallic scent of my own blood. Cold steel meets my skin again, stilling me and my churning stomach. He’s chosen the spot right beneath my other collarbone—right above my heart.
He clucks his tongue. “I’m almost impressed that this pathetic little heart of yours is still beating. What, with all the betrayal, heartbreak, and near-death experiences you’ve somehow endured as an Ordinary.”
“Everything I’ve endured was because of you,” I snarl, lifting my head off the ground despite how heavy it feels.
“Hmm.” He sounds almost thoughtful. “Very true.”
Blinding pain jolts through my body once more when his sword carves a line above my heart. A strangled scream escapes me, nearly drowning out his soft words. “Then I will leave my mark upon your heart, lest you forget who’s broken it.”
His slices are deep and disgustingly slow. He goes over each line he’s carved again and again as screams tear from my throat. I close my eyes against the grin twisting his face, unable to bear looking at this man any longer. No, not a man. A monster.
Tears slip down my cheeks against my will, mixing with the rain and blood splattered across my face. I know exactly what he is carving into my skin, can feel it with each swipe of his sword. He is branding me before death, and it’s almost more painful than the agony racking my body.
I don’t know how much time has passed when he finally lifts the sword to admire his handiwork. “There.” Casual. He sounds so casual, so cruel. “Something to remember me by in the afterlife.”
Then he lifts his sword, aiming the point down at my chest.
No. No, no, no—
He smiles. “Stabbed through the chest. Like father like daughter.”
I cannot die.
The king towers over me, gripping the hilt of the sword, raising it up, up—
I will not die.
I’m desperate, driven by madness. Even lifting my arms sends shooting pain through my body but I ignore it as my fingers claw at his boot atop my chest, one hand clamped around his ankle and the other around the leather toe of the shoe.
And with every bit of strength I have left, I twist.
He grunts in pain, swaying unsteadily.
Perfect.
I yank his foot forward, hard. The injury to his head combined with the injuries I’ve so graciously gifted him have made him weaker, made him wobbly.
And he lands with a hard thud on the wet ground.
I don’t hesitate before scrambling towards the sword that slipped from his hand. I crawl, pain and adrenaline mixing to create a dangerous concoction of recklessness. A rough hand closes around my ankle, dragging me backward through the mud.
I scream, frustrated and fearful, as my fingers brush the hilt of the sword before I’m pulled away. My head whips around to see the king’s face contorted with fury, equally bloody and muddy. I kick back as hard as my broken body will let me, and when I hear a crunch, I know my heel has found its mark.
The king cries out, the sound gurgling as the blood streaming from his crushed nose runs into his mouth. I wrench my ankle free from his grasp and dive towards the sword, finally folding my fingers around its hilt.
I drag myself to my feet, every movement painful. I’m soaked in blood, soaked to the bone by the pouring rain. I stagger towards the king, breathing raggedly as I drag the sword through the mud behind me.
Now I’m hovering over him. Funny how quickly our roles have reversed. Me, about to take a life. Him, about to be the life I take.
The teeth he bares at me are stained red with blood. “Don’t you want to know who it was that killed your father, Paedyn?”
That one sentence stalls the sword I’m about to shove through his chest. He rasps out a laugh before choking on his own blood.
“I already know who it was,” I bite out through clenched teeth. “I saw you drive the sword through his chest.” I turn my attention back to the weapon gripped in my hand, unable to bear this anymore and ready to—
“Wrong.”
I still before echoing, “Wrong?”
He lets out another wheezing laugh, and I don’t wait for him to stop coughing up blood before digging the point of my blade into his chest as I slowly say, “It was you.”