The Claimed: Rashika's Resistance

Chapter 31: Blood

"Saving me from your own attack."

The King flicked a dismissive wrist. "And it wasn't the last time I saved you. I knew you were the guard who helped Izra free the Lesser God worshippers, but I couldn't let go of my faith in you. So I let you off with a warning."

The light in his eyes never dimmed, gleaming with maniacal passion. Amazing to me now that I had ever mistaken that passion for love.

"A warning." Venom seeped through my voice. "You murdered my best friend."

His tongue flicked out over his lower lip, an unfamiliar gesture. Flagging confidence? "Epsa, he worshipped Lesser Gods. I would have accosted him earlier if not for your friendship."

"He was innocent." My voice choked under the weight of sorrow and rage. "He was the best man I've ever known."

"Epsa, please. Killing me will accomplish nothing. Makandi will carry on my legacy."

"Makandi hates you," I said, though my voice lacked conviction.

A trembling smile quirked his lips. "Do you really understand so little? No, Makandi does not hate me. His petulant tantrums only demonstrate his profound craving for my approval. Makandi is weak, but he will carry on my legacy. And Makari... he will be King one day."

    Thoughts swirled in a disorienting flurry, succumbing to the weight of confusion and blood loss. My vision blurred and shoulders sagged. I forced myself to remember the stakes. To remember Pim, Honey, Queen Romalda, and the Resistance members who had given me their trust. Shaking myself, I raised the sword before me once more.

"I don't know what the future will hold," I said, "But I know it won't hold you."

Past closed doors, metal clattered down a stairwell, and footsteps crescendoed. Makapu's eyes darted past me to the cracked door and then fixed on me. For the first time, something less calculated flickered across his eyes. Real fear.

"Epsa, please. I am your father and your king."

I shook my head. "You are no longer my king, and you have never been my father."

"Then as an old man on his knees." His voice cracked, desperation ripping apart his smooth bass. "I have done everything you asked."

Some cruel semblance of a smile twitched across my face. Honey had done everything the King asked for years. And so had I. What did we receive in return? Only a promise of some better future after death — some blessing from a Goddess who demanded everything and gave nothing.

"Then I'm sure the Goddess will bless you for your obedience," I said.

And I plunged the sword through his neck.

He clutched his neck, eyes expanding to perfect circles and mouth flapping like a fish out of water. Blood spilled over his fitted gold vest and splattered the ground, a morbid echo of the rain outside. As thunder boomed, he flopped forward. Curly hair brushed the floor a foot from my feet.

For a minute, I only stared at the motionless body in front of me and the blood dripping from my sword. I had expected to feel something. Glee, relief, regret... something. But only a cold numbness pushed through me, depleting my remaining energy.

The sword slipped from my grasp and thumped the ground beside my feet, and I stumbled toward the door.

The study swayed and blurred with each step. For a disorienting second, I felt certain the ceiling had ripped off, and the downpour now flooded the palace. The walls melted to the floor in a glimmering mirage.

I blinked, and dry walls stacked upon solid floor once more.

Japal's sprawled body crunched beneath me, and a cooling puddle of blood splashed my trousers. The sharp corner of Makapu's desk dug into my hip. The door frame splintered my clawed fingers and knocked my shoulder.