Chapter 13 Knight in bloody armor

Chapter 13 Knight in bloody armor
NYX

The maids are a tangle of snoring bodies and sour breath, all piled up against each other like little fishes. I want to stuff their mouth until they stop sounding like pigs.

Maybe then I can get some sleep.

But no, that’s a bloody lie. 

I can’t lie still. Sleep rejects me. All I see when I close my eyes is glimpses of Zephyr’s tortured face.

I feel the knife slide between his ribs again. That sick, wet crunch, and the gargle that comes with it. The hollow sound he makes as he chokes on his own blood.

I relive the agony. 

I have seen dead people before but I wasn’t ever the one holding the knife, or twisting it. 

Maybe that is why I am so haunted. 

I slip from the cot, padding my feet silently on the cold stony floor until I step on someone’s hair. 

The maid hisses, “Watch your clumsy feet, murderer,” and rolls over. I keep moving, biting the insides of my cheeks to keep from talking back.

I carry myself as smoothly as the wind, swaying on every step. Fatigue burns a hole through me, and my stomach has been relentlessly grumbling from hunger.

Outside, the air is wickedly cold. The kind that bites, takes over your senses, and leaves an iron-like aftertaste on your tongue.

I drag in a deep breath. It only shows how restricted my heart feels. Like a fist that won’t unclench. Hard and unyielding. A little block in my chest. 

So many thoughts fill my little head.

I am being watched. 

I have to poison the Alpha at night. 

The moonlight coats the trees and the huts in a silver hue. The moon goddess must be dead, watching her people suffer this way.

I don’t care for gods and the words. They lie, fail—all the time.

There’s little to no movement anywhere. Everyone’s asleep. I’ll be punished if I am found roaming too, yet I keep straying.

I crouch by the old yew tree near the kitchens, dig a shallow grave with my fingers until dirt packs under my nails, and bury the small thing I managed to keep from Zephyr.

A little carved wooden grape he used to roll between his fingers. Perhaps for anxiety. I found it in his things earlier.

My pulse quickens. I press it into the earth like planting a seed of hate.

“I’ll finish it,” I promise to the dark, to him, to whatever’s left of him. “I swear on every drop you bled.”

The wind shifts, stealing my attention. On the top of the east wall is a stealthy shadow, moving quick. The strange person dons a cloak that flickers like a raven’s wing. 

Someone walking the perimeter where no patrol is posted this late? 

Weird.

Scary. I despise both. 

My pulse spikes so hard my ears ring. I run.

The figure is already dropping down the far side when I reach the wall. I vault after them, landing hard in the kitchen garden.

They’re fast, but grief has made me faster. Warier. If this is the person watching me, the person who dropped that note, then I need to hear from my mother and Aura.

I slam into them from behind and twist their fabric between my grip. My shoulder drives them into the soft earth between rows of frostbitten herbs. 

My forearm pins their throat. “Show your face,” I snarl.

The figure twists under me.

The hood falls back, and moonlight spills across the person’s face.

A woman. I startle back. 

Sharp cheekbones, freckles like scattered embers, and hair the color of fresh blood

She isn't my mysterious employer. This is someone else. 

Her red hair spills everywhere, and she shoves me off with surprising strength. “Who in the seven hells are you?” she snaps, brushing dirt from a velvet cloak that costs more than my entire life.

She looks like a highborn lady. 

Fuck. 

I drop into the lowest bow I can manage without falling over. “Forgive me, my lady. I thought—” I stop. What exactly did I think? Was I even thinking? “I’m sorry.”

I clench my jaw in anticipation of a smack.

Instead, she straightens, narrowing her eyes. “Help me up,” she extends her hand.

I eye it, wiping mine on my dirty dress before I take it. She lets out a rather enthusiastic ‘hiyah!’ when I hike her up. Her mannerisms contrast with her dove-like, elegant look. 

Recognition lights her eyes up. “Wait. You’re that slave. The one who dropped a snake in the Luna’s bath and lived.” Her mouth curves into a half-amused, half-impressed smile. “They call you a demon in the kitchens.”

I don’t smile. “They can call me whatever they want.”

She studies me a moment longer, then softens. “Rough night?”

Actually, rough life. Why does she care? Most importantly, why’s a dainty little lady like her roaming across fences in the dead of night?

She reaches into her cloak and produces a small cloth pouch, opens it to reveal sugared violets and candied orange peel. 

The scent hits me like a childhood I never had. “Sweets,” she explains, grinning like a conspirator. “My father is the Gamma. Says sugar makes ladies fat and ruinous, you know, before they are sold off to marriage. Old men, am I right?”

I say nothing. Don’t even offer a smile before I am killed for it.

“Every fortnight I bribe the cobbler to hide them in his cart. Want one?”

I stare at the bright little candies and feel my stomach knot. Zephyr would have stolen three and teased me for eating like a bird. “No. Thank you.”

Her face falls, but she doesn’t push. “Fair enough. I’m Sable, by the way. And you’re…?”

“A maid.” 

“With a name, I suppose?”

“Nyx.”

“Nyx,” she repeats, tasting it. “Suits you. Like the night that refuses to die.”

I almost laugh. Almost. She’s nice. Zephyr was nice, too. Look how great that turned out.

She tucks the pouch away. “Don’t wander too long. Bad things prowl when the moon’s this high.” She gives me a small salute with two fingers. “Oh. And you never saw me.”

“I never saw you,” I echo.

“Very well.” Lady Sable melts back into the shadows like she was never there.

I head toward the chamber, and as I turn, I walk straight into a wall of muscle. 

Another damn guard. Gods! “Sorry.” 

“Well, well. What do we have here?” His breath is a puff of alcohol itself. 

I step back, sensing trouble. “Just going to my quarters.”

He blocks me. “Plenty of time for that.” Another guard appears behind me, boxing me in. Their hands grab my arms, shove me hard against the wall. 

Stone scrapes my shoulder blades.

The first one pins my wrists above my head. “Heard you like it rough, snake girl.”

I’m too weak to shout. The fabric rips and the cold air lashes against my skin. 

Their fingers claw at my thighs, at my breasts and I trash at first. I thrash, scream into the night, but the second guard clamps a hand over my mouth. “Shut it and maybe you’ll enjoy it too!”

Their laughter echoes against my ear, promising worse. A tear slips from my eyes. Then I just let them. 

My hands fall limp to my sides. I don’t have any more fight in me tonight.

I squeeze my eyes shut. There’s only one thing that could save me, and it’s a far cry. Wouldn’t work. Ever.

They shove me to the ground and I yell as the pain shoots up my back. Their hands, breath, skin—it’s all unbearable.

‘Kane.’

‘Help me, Kane.’

I’m screaming inside my skull, down the bond I hate, the bond that has never once answered when I needed it.

The bond I shouldn’t even need. 

‘Please.’ A small part of me wishes he’ll show up. The other part knows he won’t. I don’t even know if he hears me. 

I give up.

Then I hear it. Sharp, clear in the silence.

A grunt, followed by a wet, choking sound. The weight on my body vanishes. I open my eyes.

Two guards lie crumpled at my feet with a hole in their chests.

I choke back a scream at the horrifying sight. Then my eyes trail up the sturdy frame before me. 

Alpha Kane stands over them. In his grip lies their heart—slowly, evenly pulsating to a pause. There’s blood everywhere.

I can barely see past the haze. But his sharp eyes burn lasers into me, his chest rising and falling hard. “You called.”