"So, you’ve betrayed me," King Dunston growled, though he did not sound surprised or even concerned. "I should’ve known you would. These men are just like their father and their grandfather. They manipulate and…"
The king never got the chance to finish. "No!" Menion bellowed loudly, causing even his father to look shocked. It was obvious from the look on the king's face that he was not used to being confronted by his son.
"During my time away, I’ve come to realize that you are the manipulative one," Menion snarled. "I saw the fear in Kira's eyes when she learned that I was your son, and I’ve seen the scars you left upon her flesh."
"You...you have seen her… naked flesh?" The king blanched suddenly, but the color quickly returned to his face as anger seemed to overwhelm him, "You’ve taken liberties with my oracle! How far did it go?"
Drake's jaw clenched, and he struggled to hold onto consciousness as he awaited Menion's answer. Would the prince tell his father the truth?
"Far enough," Menion responded through gritted teeth, and the way he glared at his father seemed to tell the king all he needed to know. He turned away from the prince and focused his attention on the silver-haired fae who still stood beside Kira.
"If that is true, then she’s useless to me," the king announced. "Kill her, and kill the bastard king's sons too!"
Chapter 17 - Kira
"No!"
One of her mates screamed in protest, but Kira couldn’t be sure which one. She was much too concerned with Farro and the cold, silver blade he’d suddenly pressed to her throat. Her vision was the last hope she had to hold onto, and yet seeing Drake in such a state, she couldn't help but fear that she’d been right, that something terrible would happen to him and Menion.
Kira stared bravely into Farro’s eyes, determined not to appear as a weak and frightened woman. She reminded herself over and over that her visions were never wrong. No matter how she had tried to change them in the past, fate always intervened to make it so. Knowing that, she knew that she would make it off the ship alive. What she didn't know was whether Drake and Menion would follow.
What happened next happened in a dreadful rush of grunting and splattered blood. What little Kira could see over Farro's shoulder was not enough to know the fate of her mates. Several times, she saw glimpses of Menion and Blake and knew the two had drawn their swords, unwilling to go down without a fight.
"I want my son alive!" King Dunston yelled menacingly, though it was clear from the fact that he had backed away from the fight that he wasn't entirely sure his men were going to be the victors.
Still, Kira tried to catch a glimpse of her men before she turned her attention back to Farro and suggested, "You don't have to do this." It was clear from the fact that he hadn't already slit her throat that he was reluctant to do so. A flash of regret swept momentarily across the man's grim features, and he shook his head, taking a step backward, the dagger lowering from Kira's throat.
In the next instant, the guards that were battling behind him were suddenly felled with one swift arc of a sword, and a moment later, Drake stood with that very same bloodied sword pointed at Farro's throat. He was leaning heavily to one side, his free hand gripped around the arrow in his abdomen as if it were all he could do to ease the pain. Kira felt elation and fear at seeing him. Though he was alive and had clearly had enough strength to fight his way to her, he was obviously gravely wounded. Kira didn't think she’d ever seen a man look so pale. His lips seemed to be turning blue, and she knew without a doubt that that wasn't a good sign.
"You have two options," Drake growled out through gritted teeth, "Either use that dagger to cut Kira free, or meet the end of my blade."
Farro didn't move except to roll his eyes in Drake's direction as he pointed out, "I don't think you’re in any state to threaten me, boy."
"That’s what your friends thought too," Drake stated, inclining his head sharply to the guards he’d cut down in order to stand before the bodyguard.
"Farro, please," Kira begged. Though he’d been the one to bring her there at his king's request, she couldn't bear the thought of seeing him harmed after all the years he’d shown her small acts of kindness during her imprisonment on the Forgotten Isle. She remembered the small clumps of stale bread he'd snuck into her cell whenever the king had decided to starve a vision out of her, or the blankets he’d smuggled in for her whenever the king decided she would go without.
The bodyguard seemed to weigh his options carefully before finally stepping forward to drag his dagger harshly across Kira's bindings. The moment they snapped free and her hands were released, she suddenly realized how tight they’d been. Rubbing her wrists to ease the pain, she turned to thank Farro, only to find that he was already facing Drake.
"Be a good lad and hit me," Farro insisted. "Make it believable, or I'm as good as dead."
Drake didn't need to be told twice. Upending his sword, he used the pommel to slam into the bodyguard's head, and he dropped onto the deck like a sack of potatoes. Kira felt sorry for him for only a moment before Drake's gasp brought her back to what should’ve really concerned her. She turned just in time to see him stumbling backward, tripping over the bodies of the wounded fae. Instinctively, Kira rushed to him and grabbed hold of him, using her shoulder to prop him up.
"It's okay, I'm here, I've got you," she assured him, although she could feel tears beginning to prick the corners of her eyes.
"Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you?" Drake chuckled weakly as he collapsed to his knees. Nowhere near strong enough to hold his weight, all Kira could do was kneel with him, holding him as best she could.
"You’ve rescued me," Kira pointed out as calmly as she could, "Now it is my turn to rescue you."
Though she had absolutely no idea how to actually do that, she found herself reaching for the sword in Drake's hand. Taking it, she realized it was slick with blood, though she couldn't be sure whether it was his or somebody else's.
"I’m glad I got to see you one last time," Drake said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he slipped from Kira's grip and landed awkwardly on his back on the bloody deck.
"Reinforcements are coming!" Kira heard someone yell, and she glanced up to see that Winter Isle guards were swarming above the ship. It would be mere seconds before they joined the fray, and King Dunston's men would be overpowered. Though she knew now that she was saved, she knew that a part of her wasn't. She knew if Drake died, a part of her would die on that ship.
"I won't let that happen!" she cried aloud as she dropped the sword and took hold of the arrow protruding from Drake's belly.
"No! Kira, don't!" she heard Blake's cry, all too late as she yanked hard on the arrow. Drake cried out in agony, and Kira forced herself to grit her teeth and bear his pain as her own as she pressed both her hands into the open wound.