Page 116 of Tricky Princess

“I’ll do my best.”

He sent a wave of razor-sharp shadows at another huddled group, slicing and cutting them as they ran toward them. Blood sprayed, mixing with his shadows. He had five left to Ellea’s seven. They were close, so close.

He shouted out as a soldier caught him in the thigh with his sword. Pain shot through his knee as he crashed to the ground.

That one is dead.

Ros growled, impaling the soldier through the chin. Ellea cut down two more as she tried to get to him. She was almost caught by a soldier as she lunged for him, still on the ground.

“I’m okay. Focus,” he called to her, finding the strength to stand.

Ellea faltered slightly, but shook her head and got another soldier in the gut with her sword without even turning. His cock pulsed, a weak attempt with how much pain he was in and how weak he was, but the sight of her so ruthless and powerful…he couldn’t suppress the way his body reacted to it. She gave him a tired smirk, seeming to read his thoughts. She had used so much magic, and he was sure the beast she’d conjured was sucking her dry. He would ask her to do it again later just to watch it tear Belias’ limbs from his body.

Ros stumbled back, limping as blood gushed from his leg. Four soldiers sneered at him as he took a steadying breath. With the last of his magic, he wrapped shadows around the gash, stopping the blood and supporting his weight. Ellea’s war cry rang around him, and she was left with a few unmoving soldiers at her feet and three soldiers glaring at her.

Good girl.

“Come on, bastards,” Ros jeered.

They lunged, and Ros decided he didn’t need any of them alive. Slicing the throat of one, he reared back, kicking another. His bad leg buckled, allowing a soldier to hit him in the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. Ros crashed to his knees, and visions flashed before his eyes. Visions of Ellea, his love for her and all he wanted to give her. All he ever wanted was slipping through his grasp, and it left him feeling hollow and empty.

“Enough,” Belias called out.

His black suit was shredded and soaked as he limped around the corner. He looked to be covered in slobber and black blood. Ros wanted to laugh. Belias wiped at his face and sneered at all of them.

The two guards left placed their swords on Ros’ shoulder, sandwiching his head between the sharp blades. Ellea finished off the final male that had tried running from her. She zapped him and he fell face-first to the ground. She reached forward, ready to do the same to Belias.

“Enough, or he dies, Ellea.”

“Fight me, you bastards!”

“Stop, and we will take him back to Hel instead of killing him in front of you.”

“No.”

“It’s okay,” Ros said as Belias conjured a portal behind him.

A soldier grasped him by the collar of the shirt, ready to drag him through the swirling darkness. He studied her face while cursing the Gods. How dare they dangle this perfect creature before him only to have it ripped away by his snake of a cousin? Under the dirt and tears, she was fierce, and her eyes began to glow as her magic reached for him.

“It will be okay, princess,” Ros said as a tear escaped him.

He would go, and he wouldn’t fight. Their friends would be there soon to help her while he—

“No,” she breathed out. Her hair began to float, and he saw the power she would unleash.

“I love you,” Ros said as he was dragged into the darkness.

The vision of Ellea burned into his mind. Her shock at his confession, the tendrils of magic that reached for him. Her power raged as the portal closed around them; it turned into a speck of light in the blackness and shadows. Then, blinding light blasted around him as he was plucked from darkness. A wicked grin floated before him, one that reminded him so much of Ellea.

46

Ellea

“I love you,” Ros said as he was swallowed by darkness before her tendrils of light could reach him.

Her magic dug at the concrete as if it could burrow to Hel and get him back.

I love you.