Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(66)

I ducked low, scrambling to find my blade on the ground.

There was another bark just as my fingers closed on the hilt. I rose, ready to charge—just in time to watch the king of Jerar plunge his blade into Wolf’s chest. “Should have killed that thing a long time ago,” he drawled.

I roared and charged as the dog crumbled to the floor.

Wolf.

All I saw was red.

I swung with everything I had, again and again.

The dog whimpered at my feet; cold fury bound my lungs. Wolf was dying, and once again the villain lived.

I didn’t even realize I was crying until my vision blurred to the point I couldn’t see. I lifted an arm to wipe away the tears and the king lunged.

This time I didn’t raise the rapier quick enough, or perhaps, fueled by a victory of his own, Blayne’s swing was faster, better. Our blades collided, and a sickening crunch followed as my sword splintered and broke.

In the blink of an eye, my rapier was in half. My chest heaved as my magic rose to hold off the rest of Blayne’s attack, but even that faltered under the king’s weight.

There was a strange, tingling sensation in the back of my skull. That was all the warning I had before my casting gave way.

I dropped to the ground, ducking my head.

Blayne’s sword cut the wall where my neck had been just seconds before.

Now I didn’t have magic or a weapon. But the fight wasn’t over.

My shoulder raged, and I could hardly see as I jabbed the jagged edge of my broken rapier into the center of my palm.

I bit down to keep from screaming out as the pain lit up my limbs, scorching every vein like hot water and ice. I twisted, hard.

The pain casting shot through me like an arrow.

The king hit the opposing wall with a thud.

His sword skidded across the dirt.

I sprinted forward and kicked the sword as far as it would go. Then I held the broken rapier against Blayne’s throat, watching as the jagged end cut a light trickle of red across his pale skin.

Pale like a palace recluse, I had once thought. A boy who lived with shadows where there should have been light.

I faltered, the sharp metal biting into his neck. I heard the heavy thud of rain pounding the roof above our heads and the even heavier beat of his pulse. The king’s chest rose and fell.

Do it. Do it now. There were so many reasons to end his life. Everything he had done. Derrick. Wolf. All the others, all the future lives that would be lost to a pointless war….

But in Blayne’s face I saw the same haunted past as his brother. Blayne might have Lucius’s eyes, but it was Darren’s heart that would bleed.

And then I remembered that day Derrick escaped and the moment Darren found me in the hall. Please. The Black Mage had chosen to spare my brother out of his love for me. Without ever knowing the truth, he had chosen me.

I needed to choose Darren.

I can’t do this.

I started to withdraw the blade, and an unexpected blast hit my chest, sending me flying across the room. My shoulders slammed against the wall, and I struggled to rise.

My vision swam.

I barely had time to blink before my whole body was lifted and hung high in the air. My fingers shot to my neck, clawing desperately at an invisible noose. I sputtered and choked, trying to see who was in the shadows besides Blayne.

And that was when the king finished pushing himself up off the ground, brushing his dirty hands against his vest. No one else was in the room. He was watching me struggle with his lips curved up in a smirk.

Why had I never considered it? Because Blayne was born an heir?

The king had magic.

“Not as good as my brother.” The king adjusted his sleeves. “But then again, becoming a mage was never my goal.”

I choked as the knot grew tighter and tighter against my throat.

Blayne was good enough to kill me. As weak as the casting was, it wouldn’t take much.

My magic wouldn’t come, the pressure too much. I couldn’t concentrate enough to cast. I was too busy struggling to breathe, my legs kicking up air.

“The red tunnels aren’t the Crown’s best kept secret.” The young tyrant laughed. “You should feel privileged, sister dear. Very few know the truth, not even Darren. Only Father, and, well, he’s dead.” Another villainous laugh. “Of course, you will be joining him soon.”

I couldn’t see; all I could do was feel and wait for my neck to snap under the building pressure like a log split under an axe.

“It’s a shame you chose the rebels. It really is.” Even Blayne’s voice faded. In another second, I would run out of air.

My eyelids fluttered shut.

Come on, Ryiah, fight.

I couldn’t. Magic was struggling to break free, but the pain grew worse.

This isn’t how my story ends.

And then the pressure stopped. The noose fell away as the king’s scream hit the air.

I collapsed to the ground, unable to stand. I tried a hitching breath as I bit back a cry. I was in so much pain I could barely move.

“You!” Blayne’s snarl jolted me enough to blink.

Through the shadows, I saw the king. Blayne was using one hand to staunch a flowing wound at his side as he glowered at a figure to his right. “You’re supposed to fight for the Crown!”

The figure lunged, and the king swore, retreating a couple of steps back.