Page 46 of When Kings Bend

But Wolf isn’t human, not with the drugs coursing through his veins. Most men would have been knocked out by the blows to the head. With seemingly superhuman strength, Wolf rises and tries to wipe blood from his face, only to smear it across his cheek. He’s a bloody mess.

He staggers, and I move toward him to grab him, but he reaches me, no longer feeble but fully with it. He grabs my arms and twists them to the side, his forehead colliding with my nose as he brings his face forward. The impact sends me sailing backward, and I’m the one on the ground.

Show no mercy! That’s what happens when you let your guard down.

He roars as he rushes me, and I struggle to get to my feet. His foot connects with my face, and pain explodes across my vision. This time, it’s my blood that splatters on the wooden deck.

He draws his leg back to kick me again. I reach out and grab his ankle and twist it until I hear something snap. His screams follow him all the way to the deck. Rage consumes me as my head rings from the kick.

I stand and sprint toward Wolf, who manages to get to his feet. He retreats, limping on a damaged ankle that has to hurt like a bitch. But nothing slows him down as he races down the side of the yacht, his eyes wild and frantic.

People scream and jump out of his way.

“Move!” he roars. No one intervenes, and I know it’s because Victor wants a show. Victor has only given me the order to take down Wolf, and no one else would dare cross him.

Up ahead, Niamh scrambles at a door that seems to be locked. There is fear in her face, and it propels me forward with a renewed sense of urgency.

I grab a fire extinguisher from the wall and stride purposefully toward Wolf, who has slowed down, his left leg trailing behind his body. He might not feel the pain, but his body can’t take the abuse to his broken ankle.

I reach him and raise the fire extinguisher. It crashes down on the back of his head, and he staggers but doesn’t fall.

What the fuck did he take?

I won’t stop. I raise the fire extinguisher again, and it comes down with a sickening crack of his skull. He blinks hard, losing consciousness. He is beaten. He knows it. He pivots toward me, raising his hands like I will show mercy.

“You have nowhere to go!” I growl, still holding the fire extinguisher. One more blow would surely end him. Blood pours from the back of his head down the side of his neck. If we stand here long enough, he will bleed out.

Wolf is covered in blood, his body barely staying upright .

“Stand down.” I give him a final warning.

Wolf does what every cornered animal would do. With the last of his strength, he rushes toward Niamh, grabs her around the waist, lifts her, and takes both of them over the railing.

Into the darkness. Into the roaring cold water of the Irish sea.

Fear grips me by the throat. The fire extinguisher bounces off the wooden deck in silence as I watch them being dragged under and swallowed by the unforgiving sea.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Nimah

THE IRONIC PART about being dragged into the depths of this icy hell is that I had just finished talking to a priest. If only I had known, I could have had my last rites read to me. Diarmuid had performed his public duties diligently, sweeping through the decks with both Selene and me. Everyone we met was kind and courteous, full of small nods and compliments about how beautiful we both looked.

It became a game for me to try to figure out who was part of the cult and who was being used by the cult. But it was impossible to tell. Sometimes, the wolves do fool the sheep. Everyone looked like someone’s mother or father. No one struck me as a killer.

I’d become much more interested in watching the lights shimmer off the river as we floated by the various Dublin neighborhoods. Diarmuid told me to stay close and to stay in his line of sight. I never got to answer as he was swept away by a woman who looked expensive; he and Selene became engrossed in their conversation. I was forgotten so quickly. But ever since I accepted the reality of Selene and Diarmuid, a sense of relief has washed over me.

The competition is over. Selene won, but I can't be bitter about it. Selene challenged Diarmuid, mentally sparred with him. I had been too timid, too reserved. Perhaps I will perform better next time.

I have no doubt there will be a next time. I have to continue with this folly. For Ella. To protect her. Maybe it would help to be a bit more like Amira.

Someone comes to the railing beside me, settling themselves next to me. When I look up, I don’t quite remember who the man is, but I know I’ve seen him before. It takes a while, but I remember him as the priestI saw with Selene during the Diners of Influence event.

"Father, I am surprised to see you here," I say, my voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of wariness. Could he be a wolf in sheep's clothing? Victor was a high priest, and he was the worst of them all, so I keep my guard up.

The priest clears his throat and turns to me with a gentle smile. "I have surprised myself by being here, miss. I beg your pardon for the intrusion; you seem to have been very much consumed by your thoughts."

I blink, pulled from my reverie. "Water tends to make me think," I reply, glancing back at the shimmering river. The smell always draws me closer, like something under the murky water calls to me.