His eyes are the first thing I see through my painfully blurred vision. My side screams at me as blood pours out of it, but nothing is as painful — not my obviously bruising ribs, not my aching legs and sore arms, not this stab wound — as the hole he just carved in my heart using a dagger forged of betrayal at the same time as the one in my side.
The throbbing pain intensifies with every breath, and I want nothing more than to allow myself to drop to the ground, but that would be accepting defeat, and I can't do that. Not when so many people depend on me. If I let them take me — kill me, that'll be a win on their side. It would give them everything they need to control Bennett. I can't do that to him.
Tears well up in my eyes, adding to my impaired vision, and I can't tell what the source of them are.
Trust wisely; Betrayal comes in the purest of forms.
I'm an idiot. Foolish for thinking I had it all planned out. For thinking I knew him better than I did. For trusting he wouldn't do this to me.
My grip on the sword in my hand loosens as I press my hands into my side. But I don't let the sword fall. I would be making a mistake for doing that. And only I know how many I've made so far.
I look down at the blood seeping through my fingers. I need to get this dagger out of me because moving will only cause more damage and pain, but if I remove it here with nothing to stop the bleeding, I'll die. Watching all this blood come out through my fingers is nauseating.
Evan takes my chin in his hand and lifts it, forcing me to look at him. My breaths are heavy from the pain, and I try as hard as I can to make them even, but nothing I do helps. He doesn't say anything until I do. He simply admires my state of distress. I can make out a faint smirk on his lips through the tears.
"Why?" Is the only word that successfully makes it past my lips, my breath ragged. I can feel all my energy slipping away from me as the blood leaves my body.
"Now you understand," he says, voice void of any sort of emotion, incredibly different form our encounter before the battle began.
He doesn't need to explain for me to know what he's talking about. Because he's right. I do understand. I understand why he felt so different when I finally found him earlier. I understand why he would go missing without a trace for hours on end. I finally understand why he was so sure he would lose me. Why he was so sure we weren't going to win. Because he was with them. He has been a part of them from the beginning, and I am a complete and utter idiot for not seeing it. He was so sure we are going to lose because he isn't fighting for us. He knew he was going to lose me either with my death or with his betrayal. And he's right. Once again, he's right.
I hate him.
I hate him for playing me. For making me believe he loved me. For tricking me into falling for his trap. I didn't think me feelings for him would turn completely around this fast, but the anger from his betrayal has sped up the process. I feel nothing for him anymore.
His hand wraps itself around my arm, tugging on it. The motion sends a shock of pain through my body, forcing a cry out of my lips. "Come on," he demands, pulling me once again. I stumble over my feet, which I try my best to keep planted on the ground.
In one swift motion, my free, bloody hand rips the dagger out of my side and towards him, but my movements have become too slow. Evan turns, catching my wrist in his hold right as the tip sinks into his shoulder. He lets out a grunt, the dagger managing to make it about an inch deep. He pulls my hand away, taking the dagger out with it. Angrily, he takes both of the weapons in each of my hands, quickly tossing them to the ground behind him. But before I have a chance to move, he grabs my arm again.
"Keep pressure on that," he says. "I can't have you bleeding to death just yet." I obey him, not because I want to, but because I can't have myself bleeding to death just yet either. My free hand clutches the profusely bleeding wound on my side, pressing on it as Evan begins pulling me away.
Before we can get very far, someone rams into Evan, forcing him to let go of me as he goes barreling toward the ground. He doesn't stay down there for too long, jumping back on his feet as my brother nears him, sword in hand. Evan unsheathes his own, angry.
"Get out of here," my brother demands without looking back at me. I want to stay and fight, but I'm in no condition to. So, I let Rowan take care of Evan and run, grabbing my sword and the dagger off the ground with one hand and holding my screaming side with the other.
The run into the village feels hours long, and I swear the sky gets darker in the short amount of time it takes me to get there. I'm tempted to knock on a door and ask for help, but everyone was instructed to stay inside and not open any doors under any circumstances, so I know it'll be a waste of time trying to knock on any of them. Instead, I limp the rest of the way into a narrow alley in between two houses.
Finally, I allow myself to slump to the ground against the wall of one of the houses, dropping the weapons beside me. I'm a panting, pained mess as I sit there, trying to figure out a way to keep this wound closed. I look down at it and notice that it isn't as deep as I thought it was. Something I can give credit to Evan for is his strategics. This wound was intentionally made shallower than it could have been. He didn't want to do extensive damage, but he wanted to slow me down and weaken me. He succeeded.
I take the dagger he stabbed me with and bring it to my shoulder, nicking the fabric that covers it. Ripping through both long-sleeve layers, I drop the blade and use my hands to tear off my sleeves. I separate the cotton fabric of the shirt I wear from the leather that covers it. I hiss in pain as I press the cotton fabric over the wound and use the leather sleeve to secure it, tying it around my waist and knotting it tightly.
I force myself to stand, grabbing the sword and dropping the dagger slick with my blood. A wave of nausea washes over me from the blood loss, forcing me to lean against the wall for support, but it's gone within seconds.
I push myself off of it once the feeling settles, but within the first step I see a figure at the end of the alley, darkened by the setting sun. It's Evan. He found me. But if he's here that must mean he won his battle with my brother. That must mean he's—
"What did you do to him?" I call out, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest as it anticipates his answer. "What did you do to my brother?"
"I'm flattered that you think I'm capable of so much," he says nonchalantly. He starts stepping toward me, and I stay in my place, standing my ground. "Your brother is fine. I managed to get away from him. One of my men distracted him." Relief overcomes me. But his words make me think. His men? Is he their true leader, or is Levi?
"I don't want to fight you, Evan," I say. "Do me a favor and leave me alone. You got what you wanted." I extend my arm and press my hand against the wall, leaning on it. "You tricked me. You made me believe lies. You made me look like a fool. I fell for your trap, so just leave."
He laughs in amusement, continuing to step toward me, but leaving a good amount of distance between us. "You know I don't have what I want. You heard him," he says, referring to the man I thought was the Destroyers' leader. "You are what we need, so you can make this easy, or you can make it as difficult as you want." He gestures toward me with the end of his sword. "It's your choice."
"You're even more of an idiot than I thought if you think I'll allow you to have what you need to gain control," I spit.
Evan feigns a frown, raising his brows. "Why not?" he questions. "You were more than willing to do it before."
"I was willing to sacrifice my life to save my family, but not when you've made it clear you need me so you can hurt them."
His smirk is chilling. He takes one more step, slowly closing the gap between us. "Oh no, darling, that is not our intention." The nickname is unfamiliar. It feels foreign off his lips because he had never called me that before. But now that he just did, it feels threatening. Not like the version of him I thought was the truth. "Whether people get hurt or not depends on you. I have only made easy requests so far. Come with me and I'll ensure none of your people get hurt."
I shake my head; the words take moments to come to me. "It's already too late for that," I say. "There are people dying as I speak."
"Those people are collateral damage."
I scoff, disgusted. "Is that what I was? Your girlfriend?" I gesture toward the wound he caused. "Was this collateral damage?"
"Yes," he chuckles in amusement. "I thought a dagger to the gut was a breakup enough, but do you need it in words?" He doesn't wait for me to answer. He takes another few steps. "We're over. We are no longer together. We're broken up." He takes a step with each sentence until he is right in front of me, a few feet separating us. I push myself off the wall and add distance between us, taking a few steps back. "Is that clear enough for you?"
"I'm not going with you." I state.
"I never said it had to be willingly." He says. "I'm up for a good fight."
And he swings.
My reflexes have slowed down since he stabbed me, but they're fast enough block his attack. As our swords clash together, the advance pushes me back farther into the alley. I ignore every throb of pain my wound sends throughout my body. That doesn't mean I can't feel the blood seeping through the fabric around my waist as the skin stretches and makes the wound bigger.
"This really doesn't have to be as hard as you're making it," Evan says mid attack, one that I block with less ease than usual as my energy is exponentially draining from my body.
"I don't care," I grunt, blocking another swing of his. "You said so yourself. I don't care how hard it has to be as long as the Destroyers— as long as you don't get what you want."
He swipes the sword at my feet, forcing me to stumble back as to not get hit. He does it again, and he sends me barreling toward to corner of the alley. Our swords continue to clash against one another and all I can do is defend myself against his blows to avoid being pushed back farther.
I'm exhausted. Every muscle on my body aches along with the wound at my side. The arm that holds my sword feels like it's going to fall off. My entire body wants to give up. But I can't allow myself to. I can't allow them to win so easily after so much time of fighting.
As the time passes, the anger that simmers within me begins to boil. The grief and betrayal I felt initially are starting to become overwhelmed by it. But the pain in my chest is something I've never felt before. The person who I knew— who was there since we were children; the person I trusted with all my secrets and everything else about me; the person I loved is the one who I'm so desperately trying to escape from at the moment.
"Give up, my love," Evan breathes between blows, the smirk on his lips taunting. He knows I'm growing weaker by the second. He knows he has the upper hand.
"I'm not your love, you bastard," I spit as our swords cling together, metal on metal replacing the sound of shouting and chaos from the battle in the distance. Suddenly, they catch on one another, stuck, and now it's up to who is stronger to finish this battle. Who will give in to the pressure of both of our strengths and the pressure of the war. Both of us use all the strength we can conjure from within ourselves, but Evan begins to overpower mine. He inches his blade closer and closer to me, and to make matters worse, I am forced to near it as I use all the strength I can possibly summon to try and push it back toward him.
He laughs through clenched teeth; my strength being more than he had anticipated. He through he would win easily, but I don't intend to give in without a good fight. "You had no problem with it before," he says, his smirk still playing on his lips.
"That was before I realized it was all bullshit," I seethe, my legs sliding back against his strength and the pebbled ground. I can feel the strength draining form my body faster than it ever has before. All my life, I have been stronger than Evan, but it looks like he has been training recently. All those times I would spend hours looking for him are beginning to make sense now. He definitely has packed on more muscle and strength than he had before.
"My love for you was never bullshit."
The proclamation catches me off guard and he takes it as a chance to strike. With an upward motion, he sends my sword flying out of my hand and across the alley. The intensity of the attack sends me to the ground. A panicked sound leaves my lips as I land. I try to summon my telekinetic powers in hopes that there's a chance they're still there and I can get my sword back. They're not there. And I no longer have a weapon.
Evan doesn't give me a chance to get off the ground. He takes two swift steps forward and points the end of his sword at me, forcing me to lean back and make enough space between the blade and I in hopes that it doesn't touch my skin. But my attempts to get my anywhere as he takes one final step, the cool, sharp end of the blade grazing the skin on my neck.
"You see," he says, applying slightly more pressure. It isn't enough to break skin, but it's enough to make me nervous. "I did love you. Perhaps I still do, but this is really nothing personal. You're mated to the king." Bennett. Suddenly my thoughts drift to him. I wonder how he must be feeling with his brother's betrayal. It happened so sudden, and right in the middle of a battle between the royal pack and the Destroyers. He must be shattered.
"Bullshit," I spit, craning my head back slightly more when I feel Evan's grip tense. I'm forced to fall back on my elbows as he looms over me. "You never loved me. It was all a scheme from the beginning. You were a part of them from the start."
A deep chuckle erupts from the base of his throat. He leaves the subject of his dwindling love for me, returning to the previous one. "This really is nothing personal, love. Your soul is entwined with the king's," He takes the sword away from my skin, kneeling down in front of me. "And he seems to be rather fond of you." He wears an exaggerated, clearly fake frown as he uses the end of hothead blade to lightly draw a heart over my clothes, right above where my heart is. I tense at the sharp feeling. "And I think you care for him just as much, if not more. Am I wrong?" He asks, keeping the blade on my chest, slightly applying pressure. A small sound leaves my lips as my body tenses at the feeling. "You loved him when we were together, didn't you? You denied it, but you were always going to go back to him even when you said you wouldn't, weren't you?"
"No," I croak, far too easily. That's because my answer is true. "I loved you and only you."
"Loved?" He quarries.
"Yes, loved." As much as I would like to tell him that I never loved him, that my love for him was fake just as his seems to have been, my heart won't allow me to lie. I want to crush him just as his betrayal has, but I can't. I look him right in the eyes, which have darkened with evil. "I hate you."
An emotion of some sort flashes across his eyes. Anger, sadness, I don't know, and I don't think I can think straight enough to try and decipher it. It's gone as soon as it appears.
His sword leaves my chest, and hovers under my chin. He uses it to force my chin up and then leans forward, leaving only centimeters between our faces. "I can hear your heartbeat," he whispers, his voice chilling. "Your heart is pounding. Perhaps from the adrenaline, perhaps from your lies." His breath fans my face. "You still love me."
"I don't."
Pulling the blade back, he leans in even closer, but before I can move away, his hand grips the back of my head, fingers digging into my messy braids. I don't have a chance to react before he forces my head toward his. Our lips touch.
My body stiffens as he kisses me. I refuse to kiss him back, attempting to pull away, it the cool feeling of the blade against my skin reminds me what kind of position I'm in. I am reminded of the Evan who kept secrets; the Evan who stole my first kiss and smiled about it when he did. The face he wore then is the face I see now through the darkness. It scares me.
I think of my brother, my family, my mate. They're fighting somewhere else, but although they have no time and they don't know where I am, everything in me hopes that they'll come for me.
He pulls away, a laugh escaping him as he stands, almost as if he's reading my mind. "No one is coming to save you," he says. "Get up." He reaches for my bicep and roughly pulls me to my feet. All I can do is glare at him. I'm not strong enough to fight anymore and the adrenaline from our battle just now is beginning to wear off.
"It should have been you," I snap. We are still face to face even while standing, and his smirk upturns at my statement. "It should be you coming to save me. Someone else is supposed to be in your place. Anyone. Levi even, for all I care," I say, my lips forming a straight line as my anger takes over. "I would have expected it to be him more than you. But you should be the one coming for me."
"And why would I do that?" He spits, his grip tightening painfully around my arm. He holds his sword in his other hand, his grip also tightening threateningly on it.
"Because you love me," I counter, using his own words against him. "Because deep down, the goodness that was within you when we were together is still there somewhere."
His scowl turns back into a smirk. He laughs again. "Let go of your delusions that this could have been any different," he demands. "Love is a weakness. It ruins you. It destroys you from the inside out."
"Love is not weak," I say.
"Sure it is," he shoots back instantly. His eyes scan my body, at the position he has me under. "Look at you."
Maybe he's right. Maybe love is weak. After all love brought me into this situation. I wouldn't be hurt by his betrayal if I hadn't loved him. And if Bennett didn't feel the way he does for me, maybe he wouldn't be using me to get to him.
My legs shake under me as he tugs on my arm roughly. I feel like they're going to give way. I don't think I can walk, and my suspicion is confirmed when Evan begins walking, tugging on my arm. "Come on," he mutters roughly, but after the first few steps, I crumble. The force of my fall catches him off guard. He lets go of my arm, causing me to land on my hands and knees, the hard pebbled ground under me adding to the scrapes, bruises, and all sorts of injuries I already have. I'm weak, I'm done for. I can't even protect myself, so what made me think I could have protected the people I love?
"Evan," The last thing I wanted was for him to see how weak I've grown over the last few minutes, but his name escapes me in a whimper. "I can't." Pain rushes throughout my body. My side, my chest, my arms, and legs. It sends a groan past my lips to accompany my words. My arms, which keep me up, give out, and I let myself fall onto my side. I let out a cry of pain on impact. My earlier fight with the man who I thought was their leader must have resulted in a few broken ribs on the same side as Evan's stab wound.
Evan's smirk falters at the sight of me. He sheathes his sword as he kneels down in front of me. "Let me see," he demands, peeling my hands away from my midsection. I try to fight his grip, but it sends a shooting pain throughout my body, earning a strangled gasp. "What is it?"
"Stop pretending like you weren't the one to do this," I manage to get out between breaths.
His chuckle is dry. "I don't mind you being a little roughed up," he says. "But if I must admit, I do need you alive. And if you're unable to move, it'll be hard for me to carry you all that way. And I can't just leave you here because, well, I need you, and you'll die if I leave you here with no one to find you."
I want to tell him I'd rather die than go with him, but the thought of being left here to die with the chance that no one will find me terrifies the hell out of me.
He instructs me to lie on my back, and I listen to him. He peels back the fabric over my wound, and I can feel how soaked it is, I could feel the blood starting to drip down my side. "My ribs," I gasp as he touches me. "I think they're broken too."
He doesn't waste any time. "Come on," he says again. "It's going to hurt, but I'll help you." He takes my arm and helps me to my feet, shooting pain spreading through my body. I try to walk, but after the second step, my body gives up and I go limp in his hold. He catches me, now allowing me to hit the ground again.
"Can you walk?" he asks, and I barely manage enough strength to shake my head. Everything on my body feels heavy, and no matter how much I want to move, to run, I can't.
Evan doesn't push me to walk. He picks me up in his arms, my legs swinging over his right arm and his left finding its place under my upper back. He's careful around my sides. "Doesn't this look familiar?" He asks, looking down at my barely opened eyes as he begins walking. I try to fight against my slipping consciousness even though all my body wants to do is give in to the darkness. He adjusts me in his hold, muttering an apology when I let out a pained whimper. My hand lands on his chest, right over his heart. The same heart he made me believe beat for me. I can feel both our heartbeats slow, the adrenaline from our fight diminishing.
As my eyes begin to give up, begin to flutter close, I hear him whisper one more thing. "I don't care if you believe me or not, but my love for you wan't a lie. I loved you more than anything in the world."
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I think this is the fastest I've uploaded a chapter from my last update. Usually I take months. I don't think it'll happen again unfortunately since I'm in my final month of school and finals are coming up.
What did ya'll think of the chapter? I hope you enjoyed.
I don't think I have any more announcements other than I hope you all are having a great day!
Anyway I'll see y'all in the next chapter!