Page 28 of The Last Guardian

Not again.

He drank and drank and drank. With each swallow, a piece of my soul died; my blood and my body surrendered. Darkness gently caressed my mind, heavy. My vision blurred from the loss of blood, from my own tears.

The pain shot white, so much more intense than before, as if he were feeding on something beyond blood. Something hidden deep inside me, ripping my soul out.

My body and my muscles numbed as my blood drained from my veins. My body gave out. A groan of pleasure echoed from his lips at my neck. It coursed through my entire body. Sickening. Satisfied.

What was he going to do to me if I lost consciousness again? Would he bite me on other parts? And once he finished, would I forget this?

Not again. Not again. Not again. Not again. Not again. Not again.

I needed to get out. I needed to escape from this place. If not, I would die here.

I tried to regain my senses, to get out of the dizziness and the darkness. I struggled in his arms, trying to push him away. But Haedeon was lost in his bloodthirst.

My fingers searched for something to knock him down. The warmth of the flames from the hearth brushed my skin. But my body was abandoning me. I felt so weak.

Focus. Focus. Focus. Focus.

I shifted my hand to the right, searching for something: a vase, a book, anything. Cold metal touched my skin—a poker. My body numbed, but my fingers managed to wrap around the solid object. My muscles were giving in…

No. Focus!

My finger tightened around the poker, and in a swift motion, I slammed it forcefully against his head. Haedeon stopped; his teeth separated from my skin, my blood dripped from his mouth, matching the crimson of his eyes. His gaze widened, realizing something—what, I couldn’t tell. Haedeon growled, stumbling back and falling to the ground.

My heart pounded, pulsing my blood through my veins, and without looking back, I sped away from there. I ran through the dark corridor, moving in the opposite direction from where I had come. No way I was returning to my chambers, no way I was staying in the palace. In Lorath. I needed to escape.

But where should I go? I had to decide quickly.

The King’s Wood.

I had no choice but to make my way to the King’s Wood. Once there, I would keep going. Where, I didn’t know. But I would eventually find a way.

At least, I had to believe it.

When cool air greeted me, I was finally able to breathe again, sticky blood beading along my neck, soaking my skin. I raced through the garden, my feet growing numb from the loss of blood. My vision struggled to focus. Weak. I felt so weak.

I had to hurry to hide, I had to keep running—just a bit more.

I almost reached the woods. But the darkness hindered me, and I collided hard with someone’s chest.

ZAIDKIEL’S EMERALD GAZE watched me carefully.

His eyes flickered in the darkness. His hand steadied me, resting on my waist. What was he doing in that part of the palace at this hour? Had he heard my cries?

Was he going to attack me, too? No, no, no.

My heart raced; a new panic surged through me.

Not again. Not again. Not again. Not again. Not again. Not again.

“Are you all right, Princess?” Zaidkiel’s voice was calm. Softer than I had ever heard.

My head spun so fast; his face blurred.

Focus!

“Yes,” I assured him, in a voice far too low for what I wanted to convey. “Can you let me go?” I chased every emotion from my face.