Sound of Madness A Dark Royal Romance - Maria Luis Page 0,179

only way—you have to believe me.”

“No, you’ve fucking damned me to—”

On my periphery, I spot Rowena springing free from Saxon’s arms. Her face is ashen, her body twisting sideways to slide between two MPs gunning straight for me. Only, they turn for her instead, and I watch it all unfold with horror crashing through my system.

The pistol.

The wild glint of betrayal in their eyes.

“Rowena, get down!”

Violet spears my chest, the fear in her gaze sending my pulse into a mad race. As humans, we promise to do better, be better, until those we love most are threatened. Then we become the wild beasts of mankind’s worst nightmares.

The sound of my handgun discharging echoes with a resounding crack!

A scream follows and I feel its vibration in my bones.

Never stopping, I take down the second man. Pain pulses in my wounded thigh. I feel the heat, the silent demand of my body to sit and rest. Instead, I destroy the distance separating me from Rowena in seven quick strides. Sliding my free hand to the back of her neck, I press my mouth to her perspiring temple. “I’m here, love.”

When I plant my body in front of hers, I feel her fingers sink into the back of my armored vest as we take in the sight before us. The Commons Chamber has devolved into Hell. Fists fly and blood spatters the Commons’ green benches. There are no divides based on gender or age or wealth but solely on matters of the Crown.

Loyalists.

Anti-loyalists.

Madness.

“We have to go,” I tell Rowena and Saxon, whose eye I struggle to meet after the queen’s announcement. The bastard prince, she called me. Dread punctures my lungs. “We’ll grab the queen and then get out of—”

“My father,” Rowena gasps, pushing past my right arm to look at the front bench. “He was right there. Literally, right there.” Her gaze turns to me, wide and frantic. “Damien, if he goes free, after what I told everyone today, he’ll—”

Kill me.

She doesn’t need to say the words.

Locking a hand around Gregory’s arm, as he passes, I point to the queen. “Get her, do you hear me? You get her and take her out of here, and then you watch over her like it’s the last thing you’ll ever fucking do.”

Without a spoken word, he turns on his heel and heads straight for where she stands by the Speaker’s chair. Her crown is clutched in one hand, the Robe of State spun like a velvet noose around her legs. Good intentions or not, she began a war that we’d all hoped to see end today. And as Saxon and I follow Rowena out of the chamber, I throw one last glance at her over my shoulder.

Her blue eyes are locked on my face.

If what she says is true, I should feel kinship. Trust. But all I taste is a blinding fury that she revealed a secret that should have gone no farther than the two of us—and she did so before all of Parliament in a move that now makes me the most hated man alive.

The Mad Priest.

The bastard prince.

Soft hands grasp my wrists, and a husky voice pulls me away from the edge of the proverbial cliff: “Breathe, Damien. Please breathe for me.”

Clarity hits as I realize, slowly, that I’ve thrown my back against the wall closest to the Commons Chamber. I’m breathing too hard, too loud. I’m . . . Oh, fuck, I’m panicking. “Rowena—”

She settles gentle hands over my heart.

As if she holds all the answers to my past, I meet her gaze and rasp, “I’m Henry Godwin’s son.” No mercy, no mercy, no mercy. It’s an omen, a goddamned curse. Needing her warmth, I clutch Rowena’s hands in mine. “I was born to take an oath to the Crown and I’m the fifth generation of Holyrood. I’m not . . . Fucking hell, I’m not the son of—”

John.

I can’t say his name, not out loud, and Saxon saves me by jerking his head, still in the black helmet, toward the hallway. “We wait any longer and we’re going to be ripe for the picking, brother.” He says the word with purpose, conviction. “Move before I make you.”

It’s only when we’re following Rowena down the hall, toward her father’s office, that my brother adds, “She could be lying.”

“Margaret never lies.” Rowena’s mouth settles into a straight line. “It’s her superpower. All the world could be crumbling down at her feet and she’ll have not even the smallest false hope for