Page 146 of To Kill a King

Malkov snarled and lunged, his fingers curled into claws.

Elessan caught the king with his feet and threw him overhead into the burning shelves.

He screamed, rolling around on the floor amid a pile of scrolls as his cloak smoldered. He crawled from the wreckage, anger warping his face. “You won’t find me as easy to assassinate as my parents, elven scum!”

Elessan flipped from his back to his feet. “We’ll see about that. But your death won’t be quick. You’ll suffer for everything you’ve done to Aliya, and to your people.” Not to mention his people and the other races of the world.

Malkov coughed the smoke from his lungs. “Mages aren’t people. As their king, their lives are mine to take as I deem fit.” He glanced at the stone table. “Including hers!”

Elessan hefted his sword and lunged. Malkov reached toward Aliya and clenched his fingers in a fist. She arched her back and screamed.

Her voice stopped Elessan in his tracks. His heart leaped into his throat as his thoughts shattered.

A sword of black flame appeared in the king’s hand as Aliya slumped down.

At least she wasn’t dead.

And Malkov was stealing her magic right in front of him. Elessan’s vision tinted crimson. He bared his fangs and slammed his sword down in a vicious arc. The king barely had time to lift his blade to parry. Their swords crashed together in a shower of black sparks.

Behind him, Aliya coughed.

Elessan’s head spun toward the sound of its own free will as he continued to push against Malkov’s blade. “Aliya?” He couldn’t see through the smoke.

Somewhere in the corners of the shadowy room, a cat screeched. A fuzzy black shape lunged toward Malkov. Landing on his shoulder, it raked its claws down his face.

The king screamed. “Shadow? No!” The pressure from his blade against Elessan’s disappeared.

Elessan whirled around as the king’s sword swung for his throat and dropped prone. He knew better than to take his attention away from his opponent in a fight. Rolling to his feet, he thrust one sword up through the king’s ribs and felt the satisfying pop as it pierced Malkov’s liver. For good measure, he brushed his second blade across the king’s neck.

The dying man collapsed into a pile at his feet as the cat leaped gracefully from its perch on Malkov’s shoulders.

Elessan whirled to face the unmoving body on the table. “Aliya!” His stomach hardened as bile burned in the back of his throat.

He stumbled forward, landing at the edge of the slab on his knees. Taking her cool, limp hand in his, he pressed it to his cheek.

She didn’t react.

“No, Aliya.” Elessan’s voice trembled, his vision blurring as he blinked back tears. His throat tightened. After everything, he couldn’t be too late.

He rested his ear against her chest. Her heartbeat was so slow and irregular he almost missed it.

Her hand shifted. Something cold and metal pushed against his face with an unpleasant shock.

“Valek!” How had he missed her manacles? They were iron, judging by his reaction.

He peered closer. Underneath the handcuffs, her wrists were blistered and bloody.

Scrambling over to Malkov, he started patting down his robes.

The king was still breathing. Stupid magic. Malkov had stolen more than he’d realized. Aliya likely had very little power left.

The king muttered, “Shadow, no…not you, too.”

Elessan yanked on the mage’s robes viciously. Valek. No key. He studied Aliya’s bindings one more time. Maybe he could break them? Some manacles were notoriously easy to open.

He reached for his lock picks as the room contracted and tilted sideways, throwing him off balance.

He blinked, looking around. The full moon had already risen.