Bound By Prophecy (Descendants Series) - By Melissa Wright Page 0,63

his throat. I didn’t know what was happening behind me. I didn’t see Emily’s response. All I knew was that this monster that had once been my brother was not going to heal out of this. He would not take another breath.

But something had happened. Something in Emily’s gaze or something in the strength of my reaction, or some unknown trigger caused Morgan to come out of the immediacy of the fight, to understand my response. It was as if I could see it click. Deep within his eyes, he knew.

His face was purpling, but his eyes stared past me, and when they returned, it was no question he saw the bond. He knew what the Division had planned. He knew there was another way. And he could see it wasn’t Brianna, but Emily. The girl immune to his sway. The girl he’d tried to kill.

The struggle went out of his limbs, but not because he was giving up. He went slack, because he was using all of his focus on something else. His hands rested on my forearms as the rage swept through him. If he couldn’t win, no one would.

When the idea came into my head, I could do nothing to stop it. Because it was my thought now. My objective. I was powerless as my grip on Morgan let go to find and grasp the knife beside us. Time stilled, but it did nothing to save me. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t warn her. My movements were swift, too practiced, too fast, and in a fraction of a second, and I was standing in front of Brianna. No one realized she was in danger. No one knew to stop me. My left arm braced her shoulder and my right swung true. I could do nothing else.

I could do nothing else.

Brianna stared into my eyes as her blood ran down my arms, rushing warm and wet through my hands, over the hilt of the blade I had stabbed beneath her chest.

“It was the only way,” she breathed.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Recompense

Somewhere behind me there was a scream. Brianna’s legs gave, and I caught her, speechless as I wrapped my arms around her. Brendan was suddenly there, taking her free of my grasp, and Emily, gods, Emily.

Emily was screaming.

“Get her to a hospital! For Christ’s sake, help her!” She frantically searched the room for someone to respond, and then Brianna’s hand slipped over hers and their gazes locked. “She can’t heal,” Emily whimpered. “She’s not like you. She needs a doctor.”

Brendan was shouting orders, and Division men were rushing to her aid. They had a surgeon on staff. They would help her.

A wheezing croak came from the floor beside me, and I looked down to see Morgan’s laugh. Nothing remained in me then but black rage. I was on him, pummeling him with blow after blow. I knew a hundred ways to kill a man, but this, this wasn’t going to be an easy death. I was senseless, beating and bashing without thought or reason until I was empty. A shell. And I became aware of a hand on my shoulder.

Morgan was unconscious, blood bubbling from his nose in small, weak puffs. But that was not what stopped me. It was the blood on Brendan. It was Brianna’s blood.

It was a reminder. She had said my brother must live. To keep the rest of us safe, Morgan could not die.

I lifted a shaky hand to my chest, wiping the dampness as I surveyed the room. Emily was gone. Morgan’s men were struck dumb, staring fixedly at the unmoving body beneath me. They had to know. Once Morgan had released them, they had to understand they’d been under his power.

“Go home,” Brendan said weakly. “Go home and we will work this out tomorrow. Aern,” he murmured as he wrapped a hand around my bicep to pull me to standing, “come on, you’re injured.”

I glanced down, surprised to find the knife wound in my side. I’d not even felt it.

Brendan’s gaze fell to Seth and Eric, and he gestured with a jerk of his head for them to tend to the others.

“Wesley,” he called, searching the room until he spotted the boy’s red mop, “Brianna said she’d instructed you on dealing with Morgan.”

“Yes, sir,” he said. I thought he seemed somehow taller, but I was leaning heavily on Brendan now.

“Then get to it,” Brendan said. “We’ve got a secure room on the lower level. It looks like he’s out, but make sure no one touches him.”

Wesley nodded. “Absolutely.”

He rushed toward Morgan, calling orders to several other men for assistance, and I glanced at Brendan.

He shrugged. “Beats me. I’m just doing as I was told.”

I coughed, and it tasted of copper.

“Right,” Brendan said, “let’s get you some rest.”

When I woke, Emily was at my bedside, hand wrapped loosely in mine. I blinked, and then jerked to sitting as the memories came back to me.

“Whoa,” Emily murmured, moving to still me before I made it to my feet. “It’s okay.”

“Brianna—”

“She’s fine.” She pressed me back to sit on the edge of the bed before her. “She’s resting. The doctor was able to stitch her up.”

My shoulders fell. “Oh, Emily, I’m so sorry—”

She put her fingers to my lips and saw the sick horror in my eyes. I had stabbed her sister.

She brushed her hand over my forehead, leaning forward to leave a slow kiss in its wake. “There’s nothing to forgive, Aern.”

A nauseated groan came out as my forehead dropped onto her side and she pulled me to her, rubbing a hand over my hair until my arms wrapped around her. It wasn’t until she shifted that I realized we weren’t alone.

I drew back from her to question why there were men outside my door.

“Brendan wanted to speak with you as soon as you woke,” she explained.

My brows drew together, and she stared at me like I was missing something obvious.

“To see what you wanted to do about the men.”

“The men?”

She glanced at the door, then back to me. “Your men.” Council.

I closed my eyes.

A full minute passed.

Emily whispered, “Aern?”

“Just. Just give me a minute,” I said through a wince.

I heard the smile in her voice. “Well, don’t take too long, it’s nearly morning.”

I opened one eye. “Tuesday?”

She looked confused for a moment. Nodded without much conviction. “Yeah, I think so.”

I blew out a deep breath before standing. “Tell Brendan I will be down shortly,” I said to the men waiting outside.

Emily began to step back from me, but I enfolded her tightly in my arms. “Tuesday?”

She waited.

“I have something for you.” I kissed her, slow and deliberate, and when I finally pulled away, she blinked dazedly.

“Do I get this every Tuesday?” she asked.

I smiled. She’d forgotten her birthday. I would tell her later. After we’d seen Brianna. After the men were dealt with. After I knew everyone who’d been lost.

She saw the nausea rise up again, and tugged on my hand. “Come on, let’s get some breakfast and take care of the men.”

I walked with her through the halls, but drew to a stop as we approached a large picture window. The sun was coming up, spreading over the trees in waves of crimson and orange.

“It can wait a few minutes,” I said, glancing at Emily as the light colored her cheeks.

She smiled, and we stood together as morning dawned.

We were linked. We had created the union, fulfilled the prophecy. Brianna was safe, and she would restore our heritage. Morgan was no longer a threat. There would be no war, because the Seven Lines were in my control.

We were going to live.

My chest eased where I’d not realized it had been bound, and I took a deep breath.

Emily looked up at me, her green eyes finally clear of the ceaseless worry over her sister, the prophecy, finally looking ahead to something else. Something unknown.

“What now?” she asked.

I sighed. “I guess we rule the world.”

She glared at me and I gave her my best crooked smile as I pulled her tighter to my side.

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