The Mistake: Killing The King: Book 1 Page 4

  Her hand traced his face and she kissed his forehead.

  “Come back to me,” she said, her voice catching.

  But she could see his life draining away.

  “Don’t leave me,” she sobbed, cradling his body in her arms.

  Heat drained from his body and the convulsing stopped. His mouth fell open and a few ragged breaths escaped. It sounded like he said something but she couldn’t hear over the noise of the crowd. She leaned now and pressed her ear to his nose so that he would have space to breathe.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The words were so soft and weak but they were enough to trigger her tear ducts.

  “No,” she said, “don’t be sorry. You did everything you could.”

  Jarrod’s head shook ever so slightly, but as he tried to speak again the last bit of life bled away and he lay still.

  Tears streamed down her face and she buried her head in Jarrod’s shirt. She held him close and wailed in agony. He wasn’t supposed to die, she had been so close, they should be out in the woods dodging guards not huddled on the cobblestone in the courtyard.

  Guards grabbed her arms and pulled her away but she wouldn’t let go of Jarrod, dragging his body along. More guards came and pulled Jarrod free.

  “Don’t,” she screamed, “leave him along.”

  She kicked free of her guards and raced back toward Jarrod’s body. She grabbed him again, refusing to let him out of her sight. The guards didn’t care about him, they would just dump his body in the fire, Jarrod deserved a decent burial.

  But there were too many guards and her strength seemed to have faded along with Jarrod’s breath. She screamed for them to let her stay but nobody listened. She pleaded and called for help, but no one came.

  She was dragged back toward the prison but her eyes stayed locked on Jarrod’s face. He looked so peaceful now, how could that be?

  Two guards grabbed his body and carried it in the opposite direction. She watched them go until they disappeared into the crowd. What was she supposed to do now? How could she go on without him? But then her eyes drifted to Maldov.

  Anger ripped through her body and her strength returned.

  He did this, he knew she would try to save Jarrod and he made sure that she couldn’t. Why else would Jarrod be poisoned? What would be the point? Maldov had given her hope, however slight, and ripped it away just as fast.

  She would get even for that. Maldov would die and she would dance on his grave. She would revel in the chaos his death created and she would sing as his kingdom burned to the ground.

  Just you wait Maldov, the end is coming.

  Copywrite 2017 by Alexis Rae Publishing

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