Page 61 of Fated Crossing

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ive dead guards lie on the floor, all whom I know—good men, loyal, with families in Thorne. But I can’t stop, not yet.

We move deeper into the silent castle and step over countless prone guards who stare unseeing at the ceiling and walls.

Corren eases the dining hall door open, but the room is empty.

We continue through the hallway, and I hesitate once we reach the throne room, fearing what might be on the other side of the door. Thom places a steadying hand on my shoulder, and we push the door open together.

What lies before me is worse than I ever could have imagined.

My father sits on the throne, but his head is in his lap, mouth twisted with the last terror he must have experienced, now forever immortalized on his face. My stomach heaves, and Liam steps in front of me, blocking him from view. “You don’t need to go closer.”

I double over with hands on my knees and bow my head. My father is dead. The image of him on the throne sears into my memory, how his face is contorted in—

A new icy fear clogs my throat. “Mother.” My steps echo through the castle as I race toward the royal wing.

Mother’s room is at the end of the hallway, but as I approach, I freeze, feet rooted to the ground. Her door is ajar, and a dark viscous liquid is pooled on the floor leading inside.

Thom, Corren, and Liam catch up and stop short next to me.

It’s as if the world slows. One moment, I’m in the hallway. The next, I’m inside her room, kneeling.

Below me is the delicate frame of my mother. My fingers brush the blond hair from her pale face, and I stare at her unseeing green eyes—my eyes. The warmth and joy and love she once radiated is gone. Whoever did this left her sprawled in a pool of her own blood that has long since cooled. And on her chest is the wound that ended her life—a blade through the heart, twisted to shreds.

A numbness spreads through me as I continue staring at her. I stare and will her to live, to breathe, to smile as she so often does before kissing my brow. To laugh and watch her eyes crinkle with joy.

I want her tolive.

I’m not sure how long I kneel there with her blood soaking into my pants before Thom breaks the silence. “Isiah, we need to go. Whoever did this might not be far.”

As awareness floods back into my mind, the walls close in, suffocating me.

I can’t breathe.

I stare at my palms and find them coated in blood. The urge to wash them is overwhelming. To rinse this away and pretend it never happened. I rush out of the room, staring at my trembling, bloodied hands, but my head snaps toward a pained cry inside the royal wing.

Clenching the pommel of my sword, I stalk into the hall’s darkness, following the sound to my father’s office, and nudge the door with my foot. My steps freeze momentarily when I find Randall leaning against a bookshelf, clutching at his innards spilling from a deep belly wound. He’s so pale he may already be dead.

I move toward him, and the sound of my footsteps jolts his eyes open.

“Prince.” A fit of wet coughing racks him, and he winces, wiping the blood splatter from his mouth. “You should not be here. They will be back soon. You need to run as far from here as you can.”

I kneel before him and touch his shoulder. “What happened here? Who did this?”

His eyes go unfocused, and he continues speaking as if he doesn’t see me anymore. “He did not mean for this to be your burden. Your father hoped to keep you from this, from what the inevitable end would be.” He stifles another cough, though it visibly hurts him to do so. “You need to find the heir andstop them.” He clutches his belly as a wheeze escapes his throat.

“Randall, stopwho?”

He gasps, unable to get enough air to form words. Fear and panic fill his eyes before his expression slackens. After a moment, his chest deflates and doesn’t rise again.

“Fuck!” Shadows twist along my arms as I stand and knock the books from my father’s desk, scattering them to the ground.

Thom, Liam, and Corren step into the room behind me, and Corren’s voice comes out soft. “Isiah, Thom’s right. We have to—”

Laughter echoes from downstairs, and all four of us whip around to face the door.

My eyes flash to Thom’s, and he nods before creeping to the hall railing. He glances below before signaling for us to follow.


Tags: Michelle Rose Fantasy