Page 9 of Lethal King

I feel Willow’s soft fur one last time.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

My shriveled heart shatters into a thousand tiny pieces.

Closing my eyes, I force Willow through the bars. Then, I push her off the ledge.

My heart falls with her, disappearing into the stormy blackness below. But unlike my heart, cat’s always land on their feet—at least, that’s the best I can hope for. Not that I’m given any time for hope.

My bedroom door explodes, and the heat from the hellfire below crashes into my back. It’s a scorching wind that even overpowers the frigid gust blasting in from the open window.

The stench of death overpowers me. The presence of evil destroys whatever hope I had left.

I fall to my knees.

“Rozalia Dorn?”

The voice that calls my name is softer than I expected; so is the hand that falls onto my shoulder.

But when my eyelids flutter open and I look up, I see no softness on the face that greets me.

Still, I somehow instantly know it’s the same face I spotted in the strike of lightning earlier—only now, it’s not shrouded in darkness.

Though, I wish it were.

The stranger’s pale skin is deeply stained with dark crimson blood. A fresh, pulsing gash slashes through his eye—claw marks from one of the dogs he just slaughtered.

His black hair drips with scarlet-shaded sweat. He reeks of death. I can feel the evil that surrounds him. It’s the same evil I felt when I saw his black figure watching me from outside.

“Who are you?” I hear myself rasp.

Despite all the darkness surrounding him, I’m not scared.

What could this monster do to me that hasn’t already been done?

“My name is Dragomir Raclaw,” he replies. “I’m here to save you from this nightmare.”

“I don’t need anyone to save me,” I stubbornly cough, hanging my head. But it’s just instinct, a personal little eulogy for Willow. She only needed a few scraps of fish to survive. The rest she did on her own.

Why can’t I be more like her?

“Very well,” Dragomir responds. “Then I am here to teach you how to conquer this nightmare. All you have to do is come with me. Deal?”

The hand on my shoulder turns over—an offer of assistance. There are no scraps of fish on his fingers, but his words are filled with promise.

Somewhere downstairs, a wall crumbles. This building is condemned. But that doesn’t mean I have to be.

Is this how Willow felt when I first found her?

My dashed pinprick of hope suddenly glints, reborn somewhere deep in the blackness of my hollow soul.

I don’t know this man, but the hope is addicting.

Reaching up to my shoulder, I place my heavy hand in Dragomir’s palm. His skin is rough yet welcoming. For a moment, he carries the weight of the world for me.

Someday, I’ll repay him, I promise myself.

“Deal,” I whisper.