A Dance Of Crowns & Thrones | Book I

Chapter 144 | December 13th | Hit Me Where The Heart Is

Eko slumped onto the lounge, exhaustion pulling her down like an anchor. She leaned heavily against Mya and Jesse, her body trembling under the weight of everything that had transpired. The night had been brutal, each moment more harrowing than the last, and the group had lashed out at her behind closed doors, voices rising in confusion about what exactly she had done. But it was Toni, hobbling into the room on crutches, who silenced the chaos.

Without a second's pause, his voice boomed through the room, filled with desperation. "I would have sold my soul to the devil if it meant bringing him back." His pained gaze landed on Eko, his face tight with anguish, but his heart laid bare. Hobbling toward her, he pulled her into a fierce embrace, his crutches crashing to the floor with a heavy thud. His body trembled as he whispered, voice breaking, "I'm so sorry I didn't protect him." The words tore from him, raw and broken, and in that moment, he nearly collapsed in her arms, repeating the apology over and over. His guilt seeped into her, overwhelming them both, and the weight of it shattered the last of her defenses.

They stood together, their tears mingling, as one by one, the others joined, silently wrapping their arms around Eko and him. The unspoken grief, the weight of nearly losing Matthew, was crushing. It hung thick in the air, suffocating them with the realization of just how close they had come to a devastating loss. Their strength was spent, their spirits hollowed out, and yet they held onto one another, the only thing tethering them to some semblance of hope.

But the real torment crept in as reality began to settle. Protocol Margot had been activated. It was a contingency none of them ever wanted to face, a plan specifically designed to protect the headmaster's legacy and privacy in the event of an assassination attempt—or worse, his death. Named after the first headmaster killed during the founding of the academies, the protocol ensured that history would not repeat itself. The boards had prepared for this moment with chilling precision, moving swiftly to contain any potential chaos or panic that might erupt among the public. The weight of the protocol pressed down on them like a suffocating blanket, its cold efficiency stripping away any sense of normalcy.

Yet, despite all the careful precautions, the news of Matthew's attack had ignited a firestorm that spread faster than anyone could contain. Within twelve hours, Allegiant's academies had mobilized in a brutal response, fear and rage propelling them into action. The retaliation was swift and unforgiving, as elite teams, trained by Matthew himself, launched full-scale assaults on their enemies. Territories across the western seaboard were purged, entire networks dismantled in a calculated effort to eradicate the threat. Xero and any remaining factions allied with Ezra were hunted relentlessly.

The violent counterstrike was necessary for survival, yet it left the group grappling with the fallout—a system teetering on the brink of full-scale war, desperate to protect itself from the blow that had nearly crippled it. The fire of retribution that fueled Allegiant's armies was burning out of control, and though they understood its necessity.

Richie and Toni allowed the boards to handle the operations, knowing it had to be done, but their focus, like Eko's, had become painfully personal. They needed to let Allegiant show strength, to send a message to the world that they would not be toppled so easily, even though behind closed doors, they were all standing at the edge of an emotional precipice. Indomitable on the outside, but on the inside—shattered, each one of them struggling to keep from falling apart.

Eko slumped deeper into the stiff lounge in the ICU, her body heavy with exhaustion and a weight she couldn't shake. The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air, mixing with the rhythmic hum of machines, each beep and whir cutting into her, making her stomach twist in anxious knots. The waiting was unbearable—endless, stretching time into a cruel limbo as they all clung to the fragile hope that Matthew would wake.