Page 22 of Of Shadows and Blood

Sawyer turns around, rather. Unmoved by the blow, he just rubs his head with a shocked, performative expression on his face.

My eyes widen and I have to hold back from running into the room after him.

A cruel thing, indeed. Has Cedric realized Sawyer is no prince?

Cedric orders everyone to leave and they do. They scatter in sprints faster than my eyes could perceive, as if they bend space and time themselves, wielding it to work for them rather than against. In no more than ten seconds, the room is empty.

Leaving Sawyer defenseless against Cedric.

Even the guards leave.

No, no, no, no.

Cedric begins yelling at Sawyer, demanding answers. Answers about me, I collect, and I scoot closer. His delusional demands even catch Sawyer by surprise and I clutch my chest as he moves closer to an exit at the end of the room.

How is he going to get out of this?

Words catch in my throat because I want to scream at him to run, to save himself. I crawl closer, craning my neck to hear their exchange. Confronting Trentin was one thing but confronting this cold, vampyr king is something else entirely.

But then Sawyer responds in a way I do not expect, cannot comprehend. I think I miss it, surely I have misheard.

“Months ago, I discovered I was able to enter her mind, the place she conjured as she slept,” he says. “We all thought it was possible, yet you barely got a foot in her psyche. But I was able to.” He puts a hand on his chest proudly. “And perhaps, brother, it was for the better.” Sawyer widens his stance as Cedric approaches more slowly now, as if digesting this admission.

My ears ring and I sway back on my heels.

Brother?

Sawyer has no family. Sawyer has no commitments. He meanders and travels. How is he established here in such a short period of time? But he is a human. He’s never been here before. Sawyer has never been in Lux in his life. He lives at the village, on the farm with me and Hal and Ma and Trentin. There is no explanation that makes sense. I grab my chest in pain.

This is a new type of pain. Anxiety. Stress. I can’t cope.

The ground is chilled and wet beneath my feet, but I can’t move. My eyes track back up to the two males locked together yards away.

Cedric shoves Sawyer to the ground before getting on top of him, fist drawn back. Sawyer bucks his hips, but Cedric lands a quick, precise punch across Sawyer’s jaw, blood spraying across the travertine. “What did you do to her?”

Sawyer spits blindly to the side. “Nothing. I’m telling you I went in to help. She’s awake, is she not?”

Cedric lands another blow, Sawyer’s head snapping to the side again and he tries to grab for Cedric’s throat. He scratches a trail of red lines that immediately disappear. Cedric picks Sawyer up by his collar and throws him to the side of the room right into a large banquet table. Food and carafes spill as the table snaps in half from the fierce landing.

I jump from the sheer strength.

“Why don’t I believe you?” Cedric snarls, grabbing a piece of wood from the pile. Sawyer presses up and shakes his head, a bloody smile forming. “Are you not pleased that she is back?”

“Elivienne is not back. You knew something was wrong, didn’t you? Is your title not enough? You had to take her from me as some sort of vindication. Yet, I am expected to believe –” Cedric flips the wooden piece – “that none of this was a personal pursuit for you.”

My heart races and I sink against the small wall across from the doorway, my body numb to the elements. The scene before me makes no sense, yet the words are landing true.

Sawyer would not answer my questions. Sawyer, the stranger who practically appeared at the village, who disappeared for days at a time supposedly for trade trips. He toyed with my knowledge, my reality. And now, he seems to relish in the fact.

I trusted him.

I have no idea what is going on.

My body stopped shivering, I think. It occurs to me now, as I wipe tears from my cheeks for the third or fourth time today, that I will not be going home.

Cedric keeps his predatory walk and grabs for Sawyer’s neck like a vice. I try to hold back my scream because he will kill him. He is going to kill him. Viewing only from the side, I can practically feel his malevolence like flames from a fire.

Sawyer’s face slowly ombres red to purple as Cedric drags his form up the stone wall and blood begins to leak from the corners of his eyes from the pressure. I look around for a weapon, anything to save Sawyer from this hell, this barbarous ending.