Page 167 of Ignite
But when it came down to it, he choseus. He chose to rid not only his kingdom, but Penyth as well, of the evil that resided within Moros. He did it all while thinking that was his uncle—his blood.
“We did it.” Adrian releases a breath. “You did?—”
Adrian’s words are silenced abruptly, a sickening sound of fabric ripping followed by a wet sloshing noise. The stench of metal fills my nose almost instantly.
My eyes fall to his chest.
“Adrian,” I stammer, my veins flooding with horror.
The edge of a blade shines with his blood, dripping onto the floor.
His face twists into agony, his brows pulling together as he blindly feels for the blade protruding from his heart.
My mouth falls open in a silent scream, my lungs seizing as the wind is knocked from me.
Adrian’s gaze meets mine in a panic. My eyes fly to where Moros is, dread filling me with the thought that he survived somehow.
But he’s still there. Lying on the floor, unmoving.
Only…Nightfall is missing—no longer lodged in Moros’s chest.
I jerk my gaze back to Adrian, my body numb and frozen.
The blade protruding from his chest is the familiar bone-white color of Nightfall, I realize. He was stabbed in the back with the blade that killed Moros—the dagger that I gave my magic over to.
Opal’s face appears beside Adrian. “You’re dead weight, King,” she says with a sweet smile.
Confusion sweeps through me as the world slows to a halt.
Opal pulls the dagger out of Adrian, and he falls to the ground in a crumpled heap. The light in the eyes I once thought were beautiful quickly snuffs out.
“No,” I rasp, unable to move as horror freezes me in place.
Opal’s voice brings my attention to her, an innocent smile on her face as she says, “Well, that takes care of him.”
Sixty-Eight
Opalus
All at once,my body jolts into motion.
Even as confusion swirls through me, all I can see is the dark, sticky substance pooling around Adrian.
He coughs—wet and raspy—causing blood to splatter his chin.
I drop to my knees, scrambling as I press my palms over his chest. “Please,” I beg—my magic, Eurydice,anyone.
I grapple for my magic, hoping my Woodland Essence can heal a human.
But nothing happens.
Nightfall. I don’thaveany magic. And Adrian is going to die because of it.
My mind races; the only option is to try to stop the bleeding. I press my hands down harder.
But it isn’t enough.
Wetness seepsfrom the wound, leaking out over my fingers and rolling down Adrian’s sides.
