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Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)(157)

Author:JENNIFER L. ARMENTROUT

It happened fast— too fast.

Figures drifted out from the stacks, wispy gray tendrils seeping out from the openings of their cloaks and spilling along the floor. They moved so quietly and quickly they could’ve been wraiths, but the Rae weren’t spirits. They were bone and . . . some flesh.

They were on us in a heartbeat.

Grady broke free from my grasp, swinging his fists as he crashed into the Rae. The heavy thuds of the blows he landed knocked hooded heads back, scattering the gray mist, but he was outnumbered. A Rae captured his arms, forcing them to his back as he was driven to his knees and another held a . . . a sword to Grady’s throat. A blade that shone a milky white. I shot toward the Rae, reaching for the arm that held the sword at Grady’s neck.

Lord Samriel stepped in front of me.

I jerked back so quickly, I lost my balance and slipped, landing on my ass hard.

Chuckling, Lord Samriel glided— actually glided toward me. “That was unbelievably graceful.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. I crawled backward, my legs getting tangled in the skirt of my gown.

“You son of a bitch! Get away from her!” Grady shouted, struggling against the one holding him. “Let me go, or I swear I’ll— ”

“Silence him,” the Prince ordered.

The Rae’s cloaks whispered along the floor as it spun, bringing down the hilt of a sword onto Grady’s head. He went down, sending a burst of panic through me as I scrambled to my feet. I rushed to his side, dropping to my knees. “Grady?” I whispered as the Rae moved quietly back, forming a loose circle around Grady and me. “Grady?”

“Calm yourself.” Hymel walked out from between two standing stacks as I jerked to a halt, my gaze immediately drawn to his empty hands and then to his hips, where his . . . his sword was still sheathed. He hadn’t been disarmed.

And I was a naive fool to believe that Hymel’s presence had been forced. That he wasn’t capable of taking part in what was happening.

“You bastard,” I seethed, fingers curling around empty air as I glared up at him.

“That’s her, Prince Rohan,” he said, the relief evident in his features. “That’s the one that belongs to the Prince of Vytrus.”

My entire body locked up. “What?”

“Perfect.” Prince Rohan let go of Allyson.

She stumbled, cradling her arm to her stomach as she sobbed. Prince Rohan looked at the ni’mere perched on the shelf, and that was all it took. The ni’mere took flight, aiming straight for her.

“Allyson!” I screamed.

Her head jerked up. She spun, taking off between the stacks. The ni’mere shrieked, diving down between the rows. “No!” I shouted. I knew what was coming. I had seen what would happen, and still I shook as her screams hit the air, high-pitched and terrifying before ending in a wet gurgle.

Then silence.

“Why do they always run?” Lord Samriel asked. “Where do they think they’re running off to?”

“Death,” Prince Rohan answered, eyeing me.

Lord Samriel chuckled, sickening me. “So very morbid.”

“You . . . you said you wouldn’t hurt her.” I could barely breathe; my chest was too tight and I was shaking so fiercely. “You said— ”

“I said I would give her a choice,” Prince Rohan interrupted. “I did not say I wouldn’t hurt her.”

My lips parted. “What choice did you give her?”

“To die quickly or slowly, screaming in pain the entire time,” he said. “And that was a quick death.”

“My gods,” I whispered, a part of my mind unable to process the cold brutality of his words.

“I hope you’re not praying to them.” Prince Rohan looked down at me coolly. “Because they stopped listening long ago.”

“I wasn’t,” I rasped, not having the brain space to even consider if what he said about the gods was true or not. I glanced at Grady, seeing his chest rise and fall. I placed my palms there, letting each breath he took calm me. “Why . . . why are you all doing this?”

“You can say we’re changing the rules,” Prince Rohan answered.

“What?” I looked between him and Lord Samriel. “What rules?”

Prince Rohan’s lip curled in disdain; then he turned his back without answering. The Lord stepped in closer, peering down at me. He squinted. “She doesn’t bear the mark.”

The mark.

The mark Claude had spoken of.

“I’m not sure what you’re looking for,” Hymel said from where he hung back. “But she has abilities. The gift of foresight and intuition. She can read intentions and the future.”