Sara Larson - Defy

For some reason, the other two intruders just stood back and watched, making no move to help.

I clutched my sword with both hands, trying to force it through the magical barrier, but there was nothing I could do. Eljin made a movement with his hand and something hit me in the chest so hard I was knocked to the ground, hardly able to breathe from the pain. My sword lay three feet away from me. I stared up at him in horror.

And then Prince Damian’s door opened, and he stood there, fully dressed and holding his own sword.

“ No! Get back — hurry!” I called out to him, rolling over and trying to grab my sword.

“Not so fast,” Eljin said, and with another movement of his hand, I was flung across the room and slammed into the wall. My head cracked against the wood panels and then I hit the ground.

“Don’t kill him,” I managed to croak out as I dragged myself up to my hands and knees.

“That was never my intention. Oh no, he’s worth far more to us and the man I serve alive than dead.”

Just then Rylan burst into the room, his sword swooping through the air and slicing into one of the men standing by the door. I wanted to cry out to him to run away, to save himself, but it was too late. The one he’d managed to hit clutched his bleeding shoulder, shouting in a language I didn’t understand, while the other one charged at Rylan with his scythe raised. The sound of their blades hitting echoed through the room.

I turned in desperation to see Eljin and Damian standing across from each other, swords raised, but not fighting — yet.

“If you come willingly, this will go much better for you. I promised to bring you alive — but I never specified how alive you’d be.”

I slowly inched my way to standing, trying not to draw attention to myself. The back of my head felt warm, which I was pretty sure meant I was bleeding. I didn’t dare lift my hand to check.

So far, Rylan was holding his own against the man he was fighting. I prayed that he would somehow survive this. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, of Jude being left behind to mourn yet another death.

I was only a couple of feet away from my cot, and the new bow and quiver of arrows I’d taken from the armory tonight. If I could somehow get close enough to grab them without drawing anyone’s notice, I might be able to get off a shot before Eljin could react.

That’s all I needed.

“If I come willingly, will you let my men live?”

I edged closer to my cot, holding my breath. Just another foot and the bow would be within reach. I tried to calculate whether I had time to grab it and shoot an arrow. I was fast — faster than just about any normal man I’d ever fought — but I didn’t know if I was faster than a sorcerer.

“And leave witnesses to tell your king who took you? I think not. We’d rather he didn’t know that until we decide it’s time for him to find out.”

Just a couple more inches. I slowly reached out. Time felt like it had slowed to a crawl. My heart beat so hard, it actually hurt. Finally, my fingers brushed the smooth wood of the bow. I breathed in once through my nose, inhaling a lungful of air, and then I grabbed the bow and an arrow, lifting it up in one swift movement, and let the arrow fly almost simultaneously to notching it.

I’d aimed true — it would have hit Eljin directly through the neck — but instead, the arrow disintegrated into a pile of ash on the ground. He turned to me, his eyes narrowed in fury.

“No! Don’t hurt him —”

I heard Damian’s cry a moment before I was hit once more and thrown by some invisible force against the wall. Lights popped in front of me as I slumped to the floor in a heap. I tried to climb back onto my hands and knees, but I collapsed again.

“No! Alex!” I dimly heard Rylan’s voice.

There was the sound of blade hitting blade, and a cry of pain. Please, not Rylan , I thought as darkness spiraled in to claim me.

I’d failed my prince. I’d failed Rylan.

I fought to stay conscious, but I couldn’t quite manage. As I slipped in and out of awareness, I heard the sounds of more fighting and then nothing. Only pain and darkness. Then a voice, close by.

“I’m not bringing him. That’s not part of the plan.”

“It is now.” Another voice. They were both vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t make my eyes open. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything.

IWOKE UP FOR the third time in two days with an unfamiliar ceiling overhead. This time, it was made of fabric — a tent. My head ached, my body ached, my heart ached. But I was alive, which was something, I supposed. Whoever had said he wanted to bring me rather than have me killed obviously won that argument. I blinked and turned my head to see Rylan lying beside me, unconscious. An unfamiliar woman hovered over him, running her hands up and down in the air just above his torso, her eyes closed. She had dark hair, with streaks of gray running through it, pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her skin was olive toned, like mine.

“So, you’re awake,” she spoke quietly without opening her eyes, making me jump.

“Where am I? Who are you? Is he okay?” My questions tumbled out unbidden and I snapped my mouth shut in embarrassment.

She paused in her work and opened her eyes to skewer me with a baleful gaze. Without answering, she gently pressed two fingers into Rylan’s sternum, cocking her head to the side. After a long moment, she nodded as if satisfied, then pushed herself off the ground and looked down at me. “He’ll wake up in a moment.”

And with that, she turned and left me alone in the tent with Rylan.

I sat up, my body stiff as though I hadn’t moved in a long time. I stared at Rylan, who looked so peaceful in sleep. I couldn’t see any wounds, and hope surged that he’d somehow remained unharmed. My heart beat unevenly in my chest as I watched him breathe, as I looked at the smooth lines of his tanned jaw, the way his brown hair curled just a bit behind his ears where it was longest. His lips were parted slightly, and I couldn’t help but stare at the curve of his mouth. I still couldn’t believe he knew I was a girl — that he’d always known. That he’d admitted to caring about me.

He stirred and I blushed and looked away, glancing around at the otherwise empty tent. Where were we? Was Prince Damian somewhere nearby? My stomach turned to lead as memories of the night before washed over me. I reached up to touch the back of my head, expecting crusted blood, or at least a bump, but there was nothing. I distinctly remembered my head hitting the wall; the crack of my skull against the wood; the hot, sticky warmth of my own blood spilling down my neck.

“Alex?” Rylan’s voice was groggy and I turned back to see him trying to sit up. He looked unsteady, so I reached out and grasped his arm, helping pull him up. “You’re okay.” He exhaled, covering my hand on his arm with one of his. “I thought they were going to kill you. I thought I’d lost you again.”

“No, you’re still stuck with me.” I attempted to joke, even though my heart raced at the gentle pressure of his hand on mine.

“I didn’t only promise Marcel to keep your secret, you know,” he said.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from his. I felt myself getting lost in the heat of his gaze.

“I promised to help him protect you, to keep you from getting hurt.”

“I don’t need protecting,” I said softly.

“Not until the last two days.”

He had me there. If he hadn’t come to my aid that night in the jungle, I would have been dead, dragged off to be that jaguar’s meal. But last night, though he’d tried valiantly, I didn’t think he was the one who’d saved me. Someone else had decided to keep us both alive.