Oh, I’m going to do far more than leave a scar.
“Yes, well, a friend told me of his intentions and this Resistance he was a part of.” His voice is filled with laughter. “So, I did what I had to do.”
Another swipe of his sword catches me off guard and slices a shallow line across my abdomen before I dive away. “Don’t worry, Paedyn, I didn’t just kill your father simply due to some gossip, though I’ve killed men for less. I killed him to ensure my Elite society remained.”
I can’t seem to comprehend what he’s saying, but that may only be due to the rage clouding all reason. “Admit it,” I spit, “you lied to create your Elite society. There is no disease spread by Ordinaries. We don’t weaken the Elites or their powers.”
“I did what was necessary, and you have no proof.”
“You’re a monster,” I choke out.
The gesture he makes is something like a shrug. “A monster? Maybe. The most powerful king Ilya has ever had? Most definitely. No city is like Ilya, no people like my Elites. And I intend to keep it that way.”
I lunge at him, knife slashing. The steel of his sword meets the much shorter steel of my dagger, hard. Very hard. Even when weakened, he’s a Brawny with strength that is far greater than my own. My dagger flies out of my hand, knocked to the ground by the force of the blow.
I don’t even hesitate, don’t even give myself time to panic before grabbing hold of his outstretched wrist and driving my knee up to meet his elbow. The sickening crack of his bone breaking blends in with a clap of thunder rumbling above us.
His sword slips from his hand and hits the ground as he cries out.
And then the earth is racing up to meet me.
He’s thrown me to the ground using every bit of Brawny strength and raw rage he can muster. The back of my head smacks the packed earth and I’m suddenly seeing spots again.
I can’t see.
I’m blinking ferociously, desperately trying to clear my vision. My head is pounding, feeling as though it’s splitting into two, and maybe it is. Something hot and sticky is oozing from the back of my head, and even in my hazy state, I’m certain that isn’t a good sign.
My vision slowly begins to return, clearing enough for me to see what is looming over me.
The king, sword clutched with his unbroken arm, a smile curling his cracked lips.
No.
I struggle to sit up, but a heavy weight pushes me back to the ground. His booted foot is crushing my ribs, pinning me beneath him helplessly.
Not like this. I refuse to die like this.
“Is that all you care about?” My voice sounds foreign in my own ears, scratchy and scared. “Power? Ruling over an Elite kingdom? Does human life mean nothing to you?”
“Ordinaries are a weak excuse for life. An embarrassment,” he growls. “They should have died with the Plague but instead they plague us. I’ve planned for this day a long time, waiting until I could rid myself of this Resistance. And I suppose I have you to thank for their downfall.” His smile is twisted, and my head is pounding as I try to understand what he’s saying.
“Only the strongest, the most powerful, will prevail.” He leans down slightly, his cold gaze boring into mine as he says, “It’s survival of the fittest, and the fittest are the Elites.”
He straightens, his boot still crushing me beneath it. “So, where were we?” He laughs like he’s said something humorous. “Ah, yes. I was ridding my kingdom of one more worthless Ordinary.”
He points the tip of his sword down at me, and I squirm under his boot. He’s so strong and I’m so weak—
“Unfortunately, Kai has grown more skilled than I am when it comes to playing with his kills. He was quite the quick learner. I taught him everything he knows, did he tell you that? He has me to thank for his cruelty.” I shudder when the sharp tip of his sword meets the skin of my cheek, just above my jaw.
And then he drags it down.
I might have screamed—I’m not sure. All I know is the slow, slicing pain trailing from my jaw and down my neck. Hot blood is pouring from the cut and pooling on my skin as rain stings the open wound. I feel my mouth moving but I don’t hear anything coming out, only the ringing in my ears.
He’s smiling when he finally drags his sword to a stop at my collarbone. “This is very entertaining. But maybe I should have let Kai do the honors, hmm?”
I feel sick, and all I smell is the metallic scent of my own blood. Cold steel meets my skin again, stilling me and my churning stomach. He’s chosen the spot right beneath my other collarbone—right above my heart.
He clucks his tongue. “I’m almost impressed that this pathetic little heart of yours is still beating. What, with all the betrayal, heartbreak, and near-death experiences you’ve somehow endured as an Ordinary.”
“Everything I’ve endured was because of you,” I snarl, lifting my head off the ground despite how heavy it feels.
“Hmm.” He sounds almost thoughtful. “Very true.”
Blinding pain jolts through my body once more when his sword carves a line above my heart. A strangled scream escapes me, nearly drowning out his soft words. “Then I will leave my mark upon your heart, lest you forget who’s broken it.”
His slices are deep and disgustingly slow. He goes over each line he’s carved again and again as screams tear from my throat. I close my eyes against the grin twisting his face, unable to bear looking at this man any longer. No, not a man. A monster.
Tears slip down my cheeks against my will, mixing with the rain and blood splattered across my face. I know exactly what he is carving into my skin, can feel it with each swipe of his sword. He is branding me before death, and it’s almost more painful than the agony racking my body.
I don’t know how much time has passed when he finally lifts the sword to admire his handiwork. “There.” Casual. He sounds so casual, so cruel. “Something to remember me by in the afterlife.”
Then he lifts his sword, aiming the point down at my chest.
No. No, no, no—
He smiles. “Stabbed through the chest. Like father like daughter.”
I cannot die.
The king towers over me, gripping the hilt of the sword, raising it up, up—
I will not die.
I’m desperate, driven by madness. Even lifting my arms sends shooting pain through my body but I ignore it as my fingers claw at his boot atop my chest, one hand clamped around his ankle and the other around the leather toe of the shoe.
And with every bit of strength I have left, I twist.
He grunts in pain, swaying unsteadily.
Perfect.
I yank his foot forward, hard. The injury to his head combined with the injuries I’ve so graciously gifted him have made him weaker, made him wobbly.
And he lands with a hard thud on the wet ground.