Page 38 of War Queen
The justice shook his head faintly.
“You have to hold on.”
The Bear’s body grew even heavier.
“You can’t die,” Soren told him. “They’ll memorialize you, you bastard. Kids will be cursed with your name. And it’s a fucking terrible name.”
Alexander chuckled weakly.
“Of course you’d love that.” Soren’s lip trembled.
Alexander’s breathing became labored. His face was pale now. Ghostly pale. Soren ripped off his armor to the blood-soaked shirt underneath. Alexander coughed, and more blood seeped from the wound in his stomach, tiding over his sides and puddling underneath them. It was dark blood. Life blood.
Soren bared his teeth, holding back the emotion. Death didn’t deserve the Bear—the only worthy opponent he’d ever had. Soren had hated him for so long. He loved hating him. He wanted to keep hating him, to keep fighting him. He needed him.
“Don’t even think about leaving yet,” he said between his teeth. “You know she’s coming.”
“How do I look?” Alexander joked.
Soren grimaced. “Like a gutted pig.”
He motioned to a soldier nearby. “Your cloak,” he commanded. The soldier pulled it off quickly and covered the justice.
Soren nodded. “Now a little less gutted.”
The justice’s breaths came shallower. “Don’t you pine after me when I’m gone.”
Soren turned his head away, fighting the tears that stung his eyes. He had always planned to kill the Bear, but this…
“Soren.” Alexander clutched him. “Norah, Adrian—watch over them.” He squeezed Soren’s arm, gasping for another breath. “I beg you. Brother.”
Soren nodded, unable to speak.
Alexander’s breath grew fainter, and the blink of his eyes slowed.
“Not yet.” Soren shook him. “Not yet—Salara’s coming.” He looked around. Where was she? Shouts rang outside, with a shuffling below. “Salara!” he bellowed. He gripped the justice tightly. “She’s coming. Norah’s coming!”
Alexander drew in a breath, and Soren knew it was the last one. The last breath. The last of life.
The Bear stilled in his arms.
Soren slumped forward over the justice. He’d done everything in his power to kill this man all these years, and now he’d give anything to save him.
Salara’s voice rang out below. “Alexander!”
Soren clung to him, unable to respond.
Footfalls hit the stairs. “Alexander!” she called again.
Soren leaned back, still holding the Bear up, and waited. He could do nothing more—he couldn’t call to her; he couldn’t even breathe.
She reached the top of the stair and stopped, horror flooding her face. “No!” she screamed, running to them and dropping to the floor. “Alexander!” she cried. She clutched his face and pulled it toward her. “Alexander!”
Soren watched her, his vision blurry. “He’s gone,” he said hoarsely.
“No!” she screamed. “No!” She clutched on to the Bear’s shirt, shaking him. “Alexander! I’m here, come back. I’m here!”
Soren reached out a bloodied hand and grabbed her arm, pulling her still. She stopped, looking up at him, and he shook his head.
