Her Balance | Nikolai x Reader x Darkling

~ Chapter 6 ~

Hii, so I haven't updated this book in a while and I apologize. I underestimated how hard two books along with a summer workload would be like.

So...

Let's get into it!

First Person - Y/n

There was a terrifying silence, where the Grisha waited with the guards, crouching by the windows, then at a signal from Ivan, they leaped from either side of the coach, slamming the doors behind them.

I sat on the floor, holding the gun readily, my back pressed against the base of the seat. Outside, I could hear the sounds of fighting, metal on metal, grunts and shouts, horses whinnying.

The coach shook as a body slammed against the glass of the window. I saw with anger that it was one of my guards. His body left a red smear against the glass as he slid from view.

The coach door flew open and a man with a wild, yellow-bearded face appeared. 

"Witch," said the Fjerdan jumping into the coach. 

"Rude," I replied before kicking him in the face hard. 

He stumbled backward and I turned the rifle and fired. It shot him in the head, and he fell backward as I heard a door open behind me.

Double doors. 

"Oh, for the love of saints," I mumbled, cursing myself for forgetting that the coach had two doors and turning around getting ready to fire. However, I was too late, because the moment I did, a long knife pierce the skin on the right of my stomach.

I winced and looked down to see that the blade had gone completely through. I elbowed the man who had stabbed me from behind, pulling the knife out as blood dripped out of the wound.

"Rifle proof but not knife proof," I groaned as I held a hand to stop the blood, as another pair of hands grabbed me under the arms, pulling me roughly from the coach.

All around me, soldiers and Grisha were fighting with bearded men. Trees burst into flames, caught in the line of Grisha fire. I saw Fedyor throw his hand out, and the man before him crumpled to the ground, clutching his chest, blood trickling from his mouth.

I tried to escape but the loss of blood and pain made it difficult. I managed to grab the same knife that had stabbed me, and drove it right into the man's shoulder.

I had just pushed him off when a nearby Fjerdan yelled, "She's wounded! Grab her before she can escape!"

"Y/n!" yelled a voice from behind the Grisha fighting. "Run! Run!"

I ran for height, clambering up the nearest hill, my feet slipping on the leaves that covered the forest ground, blood dripping down my leg. I made it halfway up the slope before I was tackled from behind.

The yellow-bearded man grabbed hold of my legs. I looked down to the glen, but the soldiers and Grisha below me were fighting for their lives, clearly outnumbered and unable to come to my aid.

"It's just you and me, Fjerdan," I groaned as I kicked him hard in the face and he stumbled a few feet backward.

I used it as my chance to run up the rest of the hill, into a clearing where I could easily be shot or captured. Still holding my wound, I held out my other hand, ready to use the shadows if I had to.

The yellow-beared man ran up the hill again, charging at me, and I turned around to run but as another burning wave of pain washed over me, my legs gave out. 

The Fjerdan climbed on top of me, using his knees to pin my arms to my sides, his left arm pushing down on the wound making me scream out.

"Does that hurt witchy?" he growled in a heavy Fjerdan accent pushing the wound down harder, making me scream out again. "I thought you were a General. They said you would put up a fight. I don't see anything."