From Blood & Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,140

up the fallen short sword. “And this,” I spat. Light and double-edged, I sliced open the throat of the next Descenter.

Breathing heavily, I turned back to the door just as Vikter thrust his sword through the last Descenter. Only one other guard remained standing. I lowered the sword, my chest rising and falling as I stepped over the body…parts. “Is that all?”

Vikter glanced out to the hall. “I think so, but we shouldn’t stay here.”

There was no way in the world I would stay in this room. The Duchess and the Lord could do whatever they wanted. I turned to Tawny.

“How?” the Duchess demanded, her hands and clothing free of blood and gore while I had to be swimming in it. “How is this possible?” she demanded, staring down at the mess. “How?”

“I trained her,” Vikter answered, shocking me. “I’ve never been more glad that I did than I am right now.”

“I do not believe she is in need of any Royal Guards,” the Lord commented dryly, his nose wrinkling as he flicked something off his tunic. “But so very unbecoming of a Maiden.”

I was two seconds away from showing him just how unbecoming I could be.

Vikter touched my arm, drawing my attention to him. Later, he mouthed. “Come.” He glanced at Tawny. “This isn’t safe.”

“Really?” whispered Tawny, still holding the decanter as she came forward. “I would’ve never noticed that.”

Vikter’s gaze shifted back to me, and even though his cheeks were more red than golden, he smiled. “You make me proud.”

I’d wanted to throw something at him while we’d been in the garden, but now I wanted to hug him. I stepped toward him just as Tawny shouted.

Time slowed to a crawl, and yet there wasn’t enough time to stop any of what was happening.

Vikter twisted at the waist, facing the door, looking to where a wounded Descenter had risen to his feet, his sword lifted. It hummed through the air, the blade shiny with blood.

“No!” I shouted, but it was too late.

The sword found its target.

Vikter’s body jerked, his back bowing as the sword punched through his chest, just above his heart. Shock crawled across his face as he looked down. I stared too, unable to process what I was seeing.

The Descenter tore the sword free, and my own weapon slipped from my hand as I tried to catch Vikter. He couldn’t fall. He couldn’t go down. He staggered as I wrapped my arms around him, his mouth opening and then closing.

His legs went out from under him, and he toppled. He fell. I didn’t remember joining him as I pressed both hands against the wound. I looked up, tried to call for help.

Without warning, the Descenter’s head flew in the opposite direction of his body, and I saw Hawke standing there, his eyes a fiery amber, his cheeks speckled with blood and…and soot. Behind him were more guards. As Hawke’s gaze swept the room, it landed on us and then stopped. I saw the look on his face, in his golden eyes as he lowered his bloodied sword.

“No,” I told him.

Hawke’s eyes closed.

“No. No. No.” My throat hurt as I pressed my hand to Vikter’s wound, and blood gushed against my palm, streaming down my arm. “No. Gods, no. Please. You’re okay. Please—”

“I’m sorry,” Vikter rasped out, placing his hand over mine.

“What?” I gasped. “You can’t be sorry. You’re going to be okay. Hawke.” I snapped my head up. “You have to help him.”

Hawke knelt at Vikter’s side, placing a hand on Vikter’s shoulder. “Poppy,” he said quietly.

“Help him,” I demanded. Hawke said nothing, did nothing. “Please! Go get someone. Do something!”

Vikter’s grip tightened on my hand, and when I looked down, I saw the pain settling into his features. I felt his pain through the gift. I was so shocked, so thrown, I hadn’t even thought to use it. I tried taking his pain, but I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t find those happy, warm memories. I couldn’t do anything.

“No. No,” I said, closing my eyes. I had this gift for a reason. I could help him. I could take his pain, and that would help calm him until help came—

“Poppy,” he wheezed. “Look at me.”

Opening my eyes, I shuddered at what I saw. Blood darkened the corners of his too pale lips.

“I’m sorry, for…not…protecting you.”

His face blurred as I stared at him. The blood wasn’t pouring from the wound as freely now. “You have protected me. You still will.”

“I…didn’t.” His gaze trekked over my shoulder to where