The King's Cursed Bride

Two: Part 2

Tervalyn lifted a bow, drew back an arrow.

"Carissa, get down." Elon tackled her just as an arrow flew overhead.

She was breathing so hard that her lungs throbbed with air—in and out, in and out, in and out.

Elon dragged her to her feet, and they sprinted toward the entrance of the passage. More Reapers appeared on the edge of the black cliffs. Many more. An army.

They all drew back their bows, their movement in perfect sync. And then the air was filled with thuds of landing arrows and the whistling of splitting air.

Elon ran before her, taking most of the blows, occasionally catching an arrow mid-air and tossing it the ground. Something thudded into her shoulder. It felt like someone had merely tossed a rock at her before the piercing pain hit.

Carissa stumbled but managed to keep upright. The hit wasn't fatal. She would live.

Elon didn't slow as they entered the passage. Something flew through the air, then clattered against rock. An arrow landed harmlessly before her, and she trampled it as she strained to keep up with Elon.

She was trying to keep her arms immobile as she ran, but doing so proved awkward and painful. She clung to the elbow of her injured arm, trying to keep it tight against her torso, but her hand and forearm still flopped about, occasionally whacking the stone walls.

Each step jolted her injury, and she gritted her teeth as tears welled in her eyes. Elon was going too fast. It felt like a tight band was clamping on her chest, her lungs burning as they tried to draw in more breath.

Elon glanced behind him. "Carissa!" He tugged her forward just as an arrow hit where she'd been.

The sharp motion made pain explode in her arm, and her steps fumbled once more. Dark spots ghosted across her vision like storm clouds through a clear sky, and dizziness swept over her.

"Carissa!" Elon lifted her and placed her over his shoulder before sprinting toward the end of the passage. They burst past it into a clearing. Which meant no cover.

Elon set her on her feet and spun just as more Reapers continued to shoot from the cliffs, while others scaled down the rocks. They poured over the edge and climbed down fluidly, so many of them they appeared like a black waterfall.

Elon lifted his sword and deflected an arrow. "Keep running, Carissa. I'll watch your back."

Carissa ran, but her steps were slow, like she was wading in thick syrupy mud. It reminded her of nightmares she'd had, where she was never fast enough to outrun the terror chasing her.

"Carissa!"

She turned just in time to see Tervalyn raise her Scythe. Carissa stumbled, fell backward. Her body thudded against the ground so hard that the breath was knocked from her lungs.

She rolled, and the Scythe grazed her upper arm. A quick glance to the left revealed Elon was engaged with at least a dozen Reapers—but he was winning and making his way toward her. She glanced up to see where Tervalyn would strike next, but the Reaper was already swinging her Scythe.

The first hit sunk through Carissa's chest. The sensation was a strangely dulled pained, as if she were merely being punched. The curve of the Scythe sank through her body and into the dense soil beneath her. The feeling of something piercing clean through her was so foreign that she could scarcely understand what was happening. Yes, she'd been wounded before, but never had something been driven through her.

As Tervalyn tore the Scythe from her chest, Carissa's frame yanked up like a rag doll. A doll ripping at its seams.

She dropped back to the ground. Carissa stared at the dark splotch of blood unfurl across her chest. She drew a breath, only for a cough to erupt from her. Pain clamped onto her left side, its nails ripping through her skin. Her cough made blood speckle her shirt. The hit must have pierced her lung. Perhaps it had collapsed.

Carissa glanced up to see Tervalyn's Scythe arching toward her once more, slicing through her chest once, twice, three times. Her body jerked with each hit as the pain deepened. Though she cried, blood rather than air came from her mouth.

The Scythe descended on her once more.

"No!" Elon ran into Tervalyn so fast that he blurred. Or maybe that was her vision.

The sky above her was a pale gray, so light it hurt to look at it.

Somewhere behind those clouds, the sun was shining. The longing to behold its radiant rays tore through her. There was clashes and shouting, but they sounded distant and distorted, as if she were being held under water.

Carissa drew in a breath, only for air to be denied her. Yes, underwater. Drowning. In a bloody pool of her own making. Warm wetness dripped down her sides, the droplets tickling her skin as they rolled.

Elon's face filled her vision, blocking out the sky. "Carissa, no! Please, no."

His expression was fierce, despite the tears streaming down it. As if he were going to fight death itself in order to keep her.

His hand gripped the front of her shirt, bathing his knuckles in red. Red like flushed cheeks. Like flowers. Like berries. Like the sunsets she would never again see.

"Stay with me, Carissa."

Carissa opened her mouth to say that she'd try, but the taste of copper bathed her tongue as ribbons of blood poured from the corners of her lips. She coughed reflexively, closing her eyes against the agony that wracked her.

She just needed the pain to stop—please stop—for just a moment.

Just a moment so she could breathe.

It hurt so much.

Wouldn't Elon make it stop?

Her thoughts bled into one another, fraying at the ends until they dissipated into darkness. Bled. Blood. There was so much of it. How was it possible she had so much?

Warmth at her back and behind her knees. A swaying motion that was going to make her sick. Her head throbbed. It wanted air. She was shriveling on the inside, wilting like a leaf.

Wetness. Everywhere. But this wetness was cold. And moving. Flowing water. Moving water. Twisting around her, writhing into her wounds and biting her.

And then warmth. Not wet warmth. Warmth like sunshine. Sunshine? Where was the sun? There was no sun. Only endless stretches of clouds, stretching out like the plains of the sky.

Relief. The pain vanished, stripped from her in an instant. Air. So much that her lungs swelled firm and tight.

Carissa jerked into a sitting position, her hand flying to her chest as her breaths came faster. Her thoughts detangled, placing themselves back in orderly, sensible rows. Her entire front was bathed in blood. But there was no pain.

She pressed her hand against her shirt. Nothing. It'd been healed.

Healed? No, it couldn't be. Elon couldn't have... She'd been stabbed clean through four times. And Scythes were made of Esmerian steel.

Carissa lurched to her feet, the stream water flowing around her ankles. But Elon was nowhere in sight. He'd disappeared, and she was alone.

***

Author's Note: The sneak peek is up. And you may or may not want to read it.