Page 17

17

SERA

M ore assassins come. Just how many? I tremble, making myself as small as possible as Veylan fights them off.

I bite back the scream trying to spill from my throat when one falls on the bed. I watch, fixated on Veyal as he slices another throat.

At the corner of my eyes, a shadow moves. And suddenly, there’s an assassin behind me. He yanks me off the bed, and I fall loudly on the floor.

I let out a pained moan as I try to crawl away, but he pulls me by the hair.

“No!” I scream, it feels like he’s ripping my scalp.

Then, his dagger is at my throat.

The assassin’s breath ghosts against my cheek, shallow and controlled, the restraint of a man used to cutting flesh but waiting—for what? For permission? For a signal?

For the right moment to end me.

My body is frozen, heart hammering so violently I swear he can hear it.

Veylan killed the others. The wet crunch of bone, the sharp crack of skull meeting stone.

But this one got past him. I can only rely on myself.

I curse my helplessness.

This one will?—

My lips part.

The sound spills free before I can think.

Low, breathless, a whisper of a note—pure and raw and laced with power I can’t quite grasp.

The assassin flinches.

His grip falters. His fingers tremble.

The knife presses deeper for a moment—then wavers.

His breathing grows ragged, unsteady. His pulse thrums beneath his skin, so loud I can hear it.

He should drive the dagger through my throat.

Instead, he hesitates.

The moment stretches—an eternity of silence.

His hands start to shake.

Then his knees buckle.

The assassin stares at me as if he’s seen something he cannot comprehend.

His lips part in a breathless rasp, but no words form.

He can’t move.

I did that.

What am I?

A growl cuts through the silence—a dark, visceral warning.

Veylan erupts, rushing toward me faster than I have ever seen him move.

Fury incarnate.

His sword sings through the air.

The closest assassin never even has a chance to scream.

One slice—his head parts from his body, rolling onto the blood-slick floor.

A lifeless thud.

I am still pressed against the bed, panting, trembling, my skin tight with something new, something unspoken.

Veylan doesn’t speak.

He doesn’t move.

He stares.

Not at the corpses. Not at the blood pooling beneath his boots.

At me.

At the assassin still standing there, swaying, trembling.

At what my voice has done.

His silver eyes narrow, calculating.

His grip flexes around the sword hilt.

He is not looking at me like a pet anymore.

He is looking at me like something else.

Something dangerous.

Then there’s a blur of movement. Another assassin lunges from the shadows.

Veylan barely has time to react.

The blade sinks into his side.

He lets out a sharp intake of breath—the first sound of pain I have ever heard from him.

Blood.

Dark and rich, it stains his tunic, slipping through his fingers as he snarls, turning in a vicious arc, his blade gutting the next assassin before he can pull back.

Another.

Then another.

They keep coming.

Veylan moves like a storm, unstoppable, unrelenting, cruel in his precision.

But there are too many.

His movements slow.

His injuries pull at him.

They are going to kill him and then they will kill me.

No.

My pulse slams against my chest, my body acting before my mind can catch up.

Another one comes for me.

I feel his presence before I see him.

A breath. A shift of air.

I turn my head and sing.

Louder this time.

Not a whisper. Not a plea.

A command.

Stop.

The assassin freezes.

His sword slips from his grip, his body locked in place, his mouth parting in silent terror.

His breath comes fast, rapid. His muscles tremble, resisting—but he cannot move.

I did that.

Again.

Veylan turns, chest heaving, a new kind of stillness settling over him.

His silver eyes burn.

Not with rage.

Not with curiosity.

The assassin, still frozen, is shaking in place.

His mouth moves.

A rasp. A prayer.

A plea.

Veylan ignores it.

Instead, he looks at me.

He does not kill the assassin.

His eyes is on me and it makes something in me weak.