Ruined King (Night Elves Trilogy #2) - C.N. Crawford Page 0,53

be here. Safe. I swallowed hard, trying to stay focused.

When I was about twenty yards from the finish line, the elves began to cheer. I recognized Thyra and Ilvis. Even Bo was there.

I looked at Thyra as I shuffled through the snow. “How many?”

Thyra looked down State Street. “If you hurry, you’ll be number one hundred and forty-six.”

I could feel blood streaming down my leg under my leather pants.

Clenching my jaw, I pushed forward. Twenty, ten, five yards remained. I gasped for air like a dying fish, but my leg wouldn’t keep going. I tumbled forward into the snow.

I was going to die here. Even before they had a chance to execute me, the cold or the blood loss or the draugr would get me.

But Galin had sacrificed himself for me. I wouldn’t let this chance go to waste.

Keep going, North Star.

The words emanated from somewhere deep in my brain. I pushed myself up on to my elbows. Army crawling the last three yards, I crossed the finish line at last.

I fell flat in the snow, breathing deeply. Thyra crouched by my side, and I groaned. I must have been moving on shattered bones.

“That was something else,” said Thyra.

I grimaced again at the pain. “I don’t fuck around.”

I wanted to ask her if she’d seen Galin, if he’d managed to get here, but that was probably a bad idea. So, I pushed myself up, scanning the snow drifts for him.

I’m pretty sure that was when I blacked out, because the next thing I remember, I found myself propped against a rusted fire hydrant. I heard the elves cheering, saw them pointing down State Street. I concentrated, willing my eyes to focus. A single Vanir ran toward us.

“Last one!” shouted a Night Elf standing next to me.

“What do you mean?” My voice sounded distant and hollow. How much blood have I lost, exactly?

“We’re at two hundred twenty-six elves! This is the final one! The rest will die in an execution.” She clapped her hands.

Panic climbed up my throat, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I looked up at the Night Elf. “Is Galin here?”

“The High Elf prince? I haven’t seen him.” She grinned. “Let’s hope he got eaten by the draugr, right?”

Gripping the frozen fire hydrant, I pulled myself into a standing position. My heart ached. Yes, I’d spent my whole life wanting to kill Galin, but he’d also saved my life several times. And now, I felt safe around him. I hungered to learn everything about him. I felt my soul splintering.

Around me, the elves were focused on the single running Vanir, cheering him on. Then, after a few moments, I noticed their shouts rising … they were cheering more wildly. I squinted at the track to see what had them so excited, and my breath caught.

Behind the Vanir, a second figure had appeared, running in great, galloping strides. A massive elf, shirtless, pants shredded and torn. His golden hair streamed behind him.

Somehow, Galin was alive.

The Vanir warrior glanced over his shoulder, then picked up his pace.

“Pity he’s never going to catch up,” said the Night Elf next to me. “Would have been an exciting finish.”

The Vanir raced closer, Galin running behind. With his blood-soaked clothes and his blond hair flowing out behind him, he looked like a rampaging Viking. But I didn’t think he could catch up. I forgot to breathe.

As he moved closer, I realized I recognized this particular Vanir. This was the very fucker who’d thrown the javelin into the air.

I was woozy with blood loss, but my mind became focused on the injustice of the situation. Galin had saved my life. The Vanir had tried to kill me. I needed to give Galin the upper hand, even if it was breaking the rules. Fuck the rules.

I took a step closer, my eyes locked on the Vanir. “Skalei.”

The warrior was twenty yards out. I swayed, balancing on my good leg.

“Fly true,” I whispered.

I flung the blade at the Vanir. He was running, but it slammed into his leg, just as I’d intended, slowing him down. With a scream of pain, he stumbled, clutching at his bicep. I’d been practicing my knife throwing, and it seemed like it was paying off.

I started to smile, but within moments, other Vanir were running for me. From behind, someone punched me hard in the skull. “Cheater!”

“Skalei,” I turned, ready to fight with whatever strength was left in me.

But before I had to land a blow, a shadow spread over

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