It's Not All Mine

It's Not All Mine
I sink to my knees, and for several seconds, I simply stay there. 

Trying to breathe. Or trying not to breathe? I can’t tell at this point. My lungs burn, my chest aching. 

My wrists ache beneath the cuffs, blood smearing up around my arms. I look down at them, noticing the way that frost clings to the metal. They’re already starting to melt away, glistening in the candlelight. 

My mind is plagued with thought of Dastan, and Javal. About the life that I should have never left behind. Is my sense of adventure worth my life? 

A shiver crawls down my spine.

I sigh, closing my eyes to attempt to lessen the pain in my chest. 

A scratching sound reaches my ears. I straighten, eyes flashing open as I try to listen harder. It’s almost too hard to hear. 

My head lifts as it sounds again. It’s like someone’s scraping something against stone. My heart immediately begins to hammer. I push myself to my feet and slowly turn toward the window.

A pair of gloved hands grips the stone ledge from outside. My stomach drops. A forearm appears, muscles straining beneath dark fabric. Someone is breaking into the room. Is it one of King Kaan’s men? Did he find me?

My pulse pounds against my throat.

A shoulder follows, then another. I look around the room, grimacing when I find nothing in my vicinity to use as a weapon, to throw at the intruder. 

The figure hauls himself over the windowsill, remaining crouched for only a heartbeat before slowly rising to his full height.

His face is hidden beneath the shadows spilling in from outside. Every instinct in my body screams at me to run. Cold rushes through my fingertips, ice blooming over my knuckles, creeping silently across the chains between my wrists.

The man turns his head, and his eyes find mine. He stills.

We stare at each other in silence, and when he reaches toward me, I scream.

The sound tears from my throat as I stumble backward.

“Elysia.”

The familiar voice crashes over, sending a wave of relief through my bones. “James?”

His shoulders drop, a shaky breath leaving him. I don’t think. I run, throwing myself into him. His arms wrap around me before he lets out a strangled grunt.

I immediately pull away, and that’s when I notice the blood covering his hands, his shirt and now my clothes too. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s not all mine.” His voice is strained, but still he manages a wink, paired with a perfect smile. 

It’s gone faster than it appears. His eyes move across my face, looking for something. 

“Are you alright?”

The question almost makes me laugh. Because, no. How could anyone be alright during something like this? Nothing about me is alright.

But somehow seeing him standing in front of me eases something in my chest.

I nod. “I’m alive.”

His expression softens. “Good. But we have to leave, now.”

The urgency in his voice wipes away any comfort I felt.

“I know,” I say. “Where is Dastan?”

His gaze drifts toward the window. “We don’t have much time.”

James steps toward me and kneels in front of my wrists. Only then does he notice the frost coating the metal. His eyes flick to mine, and embarrassment burns through me. “Sorry.”

He studies me for a moment before looking back down at the cuffs.

“Where’s Dastan?” I ask again. 

“Waiting for you.”

“And Zumir?”

“Getting us horses.”

Relief nearly buckles my knees. They’re alive, all of them. And we are getting out of here. Together. 

James pulls a knife from his hip and wedges the blade between two links. The metal groans, the chain stretches until it snaps. The links fall apart and I stare at them, at my freed wrists. At the blood running down my skin.

“There.” James stands, then his expression darkens.

His gaze drifts downward to my dress. To the nearly transparent fabric. And I immediately fold my arms across my chest. 

The muscles in his jaw tighten. “What are you wearing?”

Heat floods my face right before humiliation follows.

“He made me wear it.” The words come out quieter than I intend.

James doesn’t say anything, but I can see the way his eyes don’t like what they see. 

His voice softens. “Did he hurt you?”

I know what he’s asking, and I shake my head. “Not like that.”

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly. “Okay.”

He reaches for the windowsill, reaching one hand over to me. “Come on.”

I stare, a bit stuck in the moment. 

“We need to move.”

My breath leaves me, relief at finally getting out of here. I reach for his hand, anticipation running through me. When suddenly, a voice breaks through the room. 

“Elysia.”

Every drop of blood leaves my body.

James curses. “Hurry, just climb on me!”

I climb onto his back, the second my arms wrap around him, he stiffens. A strained sound leaves his throat.

I immediately loosen my grip. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

It clearly isn’t, but he jumps anyway.

The descent feels endless, my stomach lurching as I bury my head into the back of his neck. The stone wall scrapes against us, James taking the blunt of it. We hit the ground, James staggering as he takes both of our weight. 

He barely catches himself, and he sets me down. I look up to the window above us, seeing Jakko standing there, his eyes locked on mine. 

Then they shift toward James. The look on his face sends a shiver down my spine. He’s not angry, he looks panicked. 

“Elysia!” He yells, hands tight around the windowsill. 

James grabs my hand, and we run, ignoring Jakko as he yells at us. 

The palace is in chaos behind us. Shouting, the sound of metal clanging and the smell of smoke filling the air. The sound of fighting is clear to me, though it all sounds like a jumbled mess at this point. 

We run until James pulls me behind a cluster of bushes near the outer gardens. He turns toward me, breathing hard, blood still dripping from his hands.

“I need you to stay here.”

Fear immediately rises. “No.”

“Elysia—”

“No, why?” I grab his arm. “Please.”

His eyes close briefly, then he cups my face. For a second, neither of us speaks. I feel as if he might kiss me, but he doesn’t. 

“Dastan will come for you.”

“I don’t want you to leave.” Fear starts to grip me, my breath turning cold. 

The confession escapes before I can stop it. His expression shifts. “I promise you’ll be alright.”

Then he leans forward, pressing a brief kiss to my forehead. He gives me no chance to beg him again, letting me go and running back toward the palace, back toward the smoke. 

I crouch lower beneath the bushes. Alone, again.

War cries echo across the palace grounds. The smoke rising into the night sky only grows, turning darker. 

My breath comes too fast, and the whispers return in my head. 

I press my hands against my chest. “Please. Please hurry.”