Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Another teeth-shuddering explosion sounded a few rooms away.
Dust and plaster chips pummelled us from the ceiling. Windowpanes exploded outward. A few Masters fell to their knees in their haste to escape as the floor rolled beneath their feet.
Smoke billowed from the foyer, siphoning into the ballroom in one giant black cloud.
A loud snick and a mechanical groan and rain fell inside.
Sprinklers kicked in, drenching all of us as the detonations triggered the safety protocols of Victor’s castle.
Another BOOM.
Another blast and bang and thunder.
“Merde!” Victor snarled, staggering to his feet and glowering at the musty-smelling water pouring all over his decadent home. Favouring his left shoulder where a bullet had torn through him, his eyes locked onto Ily.
She swayed and gasped, blood seeping through her fingers.
“Ily!” I fought my cuffs. I threw myself off the couch, trying to dislodge whatever hooked me down.
It didn’t work.
My arms remained shackled, but I strained my legs.
Using my feet, I reached for her.
I had to protect her. Cover her with my body. He could stab me instead. Kill me instead—
She cried out as Victor snatched her by the hair again. Wincing in pain, he reached into his waistband where his favourite pistol usually lived. I braced to face my end. For him to shoot my reason for existing. For my heart to stop with hers.
Only…he scowled and looked at the floor.
His gun winked from where it’d fallen down the two stairs. His burgundy suit shone a darker red as he bled. I wished he’d been struck in the heart. I wished he’d just die.
My shoulders threatened to dislocate again, keeping me bound as I fought. “Victor, don’t. You’ve lost. It’s over—”
“Over?” He laughed. “Fuck, you still believe in fairytales.” Dragging Ily toward the steps, he snickered. “I’ll see you soon, Henri. Ilyana and I are going for a little—”
Someone fired.
The bullet grazed him, leaving a burn mark on his temple.
He staggered backward, true fear flaring his manic eyes.
Goddammit, he seemed immune to death. Protected by a higher source, coating him in Teflon so bullets just bounced the fuck off.
For a second, it looked as if he’d still try to get his gun. But another thunderous cannonade tore through the castle, sending wineglasses wobbling off tables and chairs falling over like ghosts.
Abandoning his weapon, he broke into a run and jumped off the stage closest to the doors and the deck, dragging Ily with him.
She screamed as she landed on all fours on the floor.
“Get up. Now!” Victor snarled, hauling her by her hair.
Choking from the sprinklers, she slipped and skidded as Victor dragged her toward the gardens.
“Don’t!” I fought and fucking fought.
I couldn’t stop him.
I couldn’t do a damn fucking thing to stop him from hauling her into the night.
They vanished.
Another rumble. Another stone-shaking blast.
The scent of burning turned the heavy decadence of dinner into acrid poison.
Masters and guards spread out past the ballroom, the sounds of gunshots echoed further away, muted thanks to the torrenting sprinklers.
Twisting onto my knees, I yanked the fucking chain with all the strength I had left. I turned into a beast. An unhinged beast ready to chew through metal to chase after my heart.
Only…
Hands landed on my whipped, rain-dripping shoulders. My bandages had unthreaded, drenched with blood and water, unspooling around my waist. “Easy, easy. Hang on.”
My vision faded in and out, in and out, as Stewart dragged me back onto the chaise and stretched my arms back into position.
I fought him.
I frankly feared him.
But then the shackles fell away.
My wrists came undone.
And I ran.
Chapter Fifteen
………………………….
Ily
VICTOR WAS HURT.
I’d watched it happen with my own eyes. Yet…he moved as if he didn’t feel a damn thing. He fisted my hair and half dragged, half carried me as he carted me through the gardens.
Out here, the skies were clear, the stars exquisitely bright.
No water fell from the heavens like in his citadel. No smoke or bangs or rubble.
I shivered as the droplets on my skin soaked into me with ice. The cut on the side of my throat felt deep but not too deep. I bled but…not enough to die.
I hope…
I cried out as he jerked me forward, sending me onto my knees again. My kneecaps crunched and bellowed, agony throbbing through my bones.
“Move!” he screamed. “Now!”
I tried to fight him.
I clawed at his wrist where he held me.
But after two months of hunger and abuse, I was embarrassingly weak. Horribly useless as he kept yanking me toward the battlement walls in the distance.
Another boom behind us.
Victor looked over his shoulder, his eyes bugging as fire billowed from broken parlour windows, cheery and orange-licking in the night.
“What the fuck is going on?” he hissed. “How is this possible?”
I wanted so much to gloat in his face. To say this was planned. That I knew those involved and just how proud I was of my fellow jewels.