“The queen’s summer day room? What the fuck is going on?” Seamus started ramming the door along with me, putting his shoulder to it.
It took all four of us several tries to break it down, but when its hinges finally came away, I saw Sara just as she was being seized by one of the Queen’s guards.
“Take your filthy hands off her.” I demanded, my vision clouded with red. “It’s over. This won’t do you any good.” I lunged forward, Sara’s eyes glinting with fear, and I never wanted to see that look in her beautiful eyes again.
The guard that held her turned, saw me coming, and his lips twisted into a grin. “You’re right. I’m dead either way.” And with one single, horrible thrust, he plunged his blade into Sara’s side.
I screamed out her name as her blood spilled from the wound and she shrieked, gasping for air. Once again, my universe turned black as midnight as everything I’d ever wanted was ripped from me before my eyes.
Blind with rage, I hurled myself at the guard, savagely ripping my blade from under one ear around to the other, nearly severing his head. He fell back with me above him, and I withdrew my blade, only to plunge it again into his chest, and again, and again, venting my sorrow and anger on his now-dead corpse.
“Bors! The princess!”
I dragged myself from the object of my rage, and fell to my knees beside her, pulling her against my chest, hoping the beating of my own heart would give strength to hers.
Her body was limp, her eyes half-closed, and I felt my heart tear asunder.
No, no, no, no, fuck no.
I couldn’t lose her, not now. Not like this.
My fingers trembled as I placed them against her throat, the blood of her attacker smearing over her pristine flesh. But I felt it. Mercy of God, she had a pulse.
“She needs a healer. A doctor.... Now!” I yelled, and the two King’s Guards that came with us immediately ran to find help, while Seamus stayed, standing guard, glancing from Sara to the open door and back.
“My beautiful girl,” I whispered against her cheek. “Please. Hang on.”
I grabbed at the fabric of her skirt, bunching it and pressing it to the wound to stay the bleeding.
Fuck, I’d survived so much without knowing that she was my destiny. Now I had found her, and I couldn’t bear the thought that I was about to fucking lose her. I could feel her growing weaker in my arms as her warm blood pooled in my hands. I placed as much pressure on her wound as I could, but I could tell she was growing weak, life fading.
She looked up at my face, but her eyes were far away. “I’m so sorry.”
Christ almighty. I couldn’t fucking live without her. I couldn’t—I wouldn’t. “No my angel. It is me that is sorry. Sorry for losing you, for letting them take you...”
She gave no response. She had the look of being in a dream. Or of passing into another world.
I looked up. I hadn’t prayed in decades. But now I did, after my own fashion.
“Don’t you fucking take her from me,” I warned God, as I held her close. “Don’t you fucking dare, you bastard. I’ll hunt you down and have my revenge.”
I embraced her, keeping her safe and close, trying to protect her from a fate bigger than us both. The life that was ripped away from us flashed before my eyes.
Our home.
Our children.
Our love and peace and hope.
A hand on my shoulder shocked me out of my grief, and I looked up to see the royal doctor in his medical robe.
“Let me tend to her, sir. Move aside.”
All the warriors in the land couldn’t have made me leave her. Not a fucking chance.
“I can’t let her go,” I said, as my tears fell onto her beautiful cheeks. “I can’t watch her die.”
“Let him help her, and hopefully neither of us will have to,” said another voice, this one firm but shaky with emotion.
Turning, still clutching Sara to my chest, I found myself looking into the stunned face of King Rowan himself.
Sara
When I awoke, I thought I was in heaven laying on clouds.
I was in a spacious bedroom of gray stone walls and colorful tapestries, surrounded by vases of Lenten roses.
So this is death, I thought. It’s not so bad. Although, I expected a little more white.
Turning my head, the first face I saw was that of my one true love. Bors sat at my bedside, with his head slightly lowered and two fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose.
I wish I had given you the family and children you wanted. I’m so sorry…
I savored a few quiet seconds, studying him there in the morning light. He looked tired and haggard, like he had been sitting at my bedside for days. Which seemed odd. For heaven, I mean.