Ashes of Revival (The Abdicate Series Book 1)

by Alex Shobe

Slowly, I bring a hand up and reach for the hairpin. I need to end this now before things go too far. One slice to his throat and this could all be over with. I could stand over his body and let his blood color my floor next.

  My fingers are inches away from my freedom.

  Aerok jerks me in a fit of one-sided passion. He spins me and I reach out to grip the edge of the bed. He’s behind me now, leaving kisses between my shoulder blades, down my spine. A coldness suffocates me as my hair falls to my back. He has the hairpin in his hand and tosses it aside. I watch helplessly as it clashes to the floor. A bout of nausea grounds me to my present.

  His hands are all over me, touching every part of my skin I’ve never wanted him to touch. His movements on me are rough, desperate, and I have nothing to guard against him. He pushes me to the bed. Silent tears roll down my cheeks as panic laughs in my face.

  Leona

  I am disgusting. My skin is crawling with thousands of disappointments under the surface. I slip out of the bed, careful not to wake Aerok. His body is stretched out. Soft snores play his victory march.

  I wipe semi-dried tears from my eyes with the heels of my hands. My fingers tremble and I press them against my lips to center myself. I’ve never been fond of crying. But today, at this moment, the urge to spill countless tears at my feet is overwhelming. I will not break, though. Not yet. I breathe in deeply and glance around for my gown. I find it halfway across the room, close to where I lost a good friend. I will not think of that, though. I will not break. Not yet.

  I slip on the gown. My body is sore, tender from misuse. I wrap my arms around myself and hold me tight. I hold until I’m ready to proceed. The snoring reminds me I am not alone in this room and I shake my head to focus.

  I need to find that dagger.

  I tiptoe around the room, my eyes glued to the floor, in search of the one tool I need to satisfy my goal. I find it peeking halfway underneath my desk. My heart jumps at the feat.

  I hold it in my hand and pull the two halves apart. A quiet zing sounds when I remove it from the sheathe. Candlelight bounces off the metal giving the blade a golden hue. I lay the wooden husk on the table.

  My fingers grip around the intricate design Aiden painstakingly carved out. The point of the dagger screams for blood, and I intend to fulfill its wish. Aerok’s blood will spill today.

  I creep toward him. Darkness turns my eyes black. I’m breathing fast. I don’t know if it’s from the adrenaline or because I’m frightened.

  Why should I be afraid?

  He’s killed plenty of people who didn’t deserve it. I could end his life tonight. I could end him just as he wanted to end me. Should it matter that he’s unarmed? That he’s resting comfortably, unaware, in the royal bed that he stole? He’s tried to kill me multiple times. The only way to stop a maniac saturated with rabies is to

  put

  him

  down.

  I raise the dagger above my head and keep the spot over his heart in my sights. There. That’s where I’ll draw blood. I lean forward, the dagger still hovering above him. The muscles in my hands tighten and cause my palms to dampen. I need to do this. He’s not a man, he’s a monster, and the world will be better off without him. The dagger won’t move from its suspension. I exhale sharply. Why can’t I do this?

  Aerok’s eyes flutter open in a daze. A rush of heat burns away my hesitation. I drive the dagger down, caring less about my own safety, and more about completing my task. He sees the blade shining in the room and reacts quicker than I could’ve imagined.

  He grabs a hold of my wrist. I’m pushing, pushing the dagger toward him while he counteracts my efforts. He’s strong. He squeezes my wrist until I’m certain that my bones will crush within his grip. I lose my grasp of the dagger and it tumbles out of my hand and clangs against the floor.

  “Bitch…”

  He forces me away and shoves me to the floor. I scramble to pick up the dagger, but he’s already on his feet, blocking the way. He’s still naked, and I do the only thing I can think of in the moment. My hand closes in a tight fist. I pull it back and launch it forward, straight at his groin. He shouts unkind words before doubling over.

  I try to dodge beside him, my heart still focused on retrieving my weapon. So close. My fingertips barely skim the handle when he grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls me backward. I cry out and my eyes instantly begin to water.

  I’m fighting him, desperate to free my hair from his grip. He doesn’t let go. Instead, he stands before me with his head cocked to the side, a demented smile on his lips. With his free arm, he reaches across his face before swiftly connecting the back of his hand with my cheek. My skin burns, lit with the fire of an exploding sun. My legs try to give out on me, but he doesn’t let me fall. He keeps me suspended in time by my hair. His hand strikes me again and again, all while the dagger gleams in the darkness.

  Sometime after the eighth strike, my body gives up and my eyes fall close, heavy with the false hope of a future.

  My head is the consequence of a failed plan. A throbbing starts at one temple, walks a tight line across my forehead, and ends at the other side. I welcome the cold stone pressing against my cheek. It’s soothing. My eyelids are heavy, likely swollen, but I force them open anyway. I blink a few times to adjust my vision. The room is circular. A thin stream of daylight pours in through a small window. I’d almost forgotten about these cells. They stopped being of any use while the arena dungeons were active.

  I try to shift into an upright position. My wrists are bulky. I peer closer at the metallic shackles embracing my skin. My eyes follow the chains from my wrists to the wall. The clinking echoes in the cell as I move to sit up. I don’t have much leeway. I scoot back until my spine is hugging the wall. I’m no longer whether the skimpy silk gown. They’ve put me back into the dress I arrived in. I brush my fingers over the bottom hem and feel for the metal tools Aiden added for me.

  Images rush into my mind, one scene blurring into the next. My body shakes and I can’t catch my breath. My skin no longer feels like my skin. My body is no longer my body. I rub my arms, desperate to cleanse myself of the horror I subjected myself to.

  Aerok’s hands were all over me. They felt me in a way that they never had before. It wasn’t supposed to get that far. He was supposed to be dead before he ever laid a finger on me. But I failed.

  I begged him to stop, but he dismissed the notion as though it never existed. I was nothing but a tool to him. My royal blood with the promise of a royal heir. I detest myself. I should’ve never suggested the bait.

  Icy tears splash onto the back of my hands. I shudder a shaky breath and will myself to not break down. To not shatter into a million pieces on this dirty cell floor. I really want to though. I so want to.

  I flinch when the door creaks open. Two guards file into the room, each holding a lantern. I wince, my eyes sensitive to the sudden brightness. They stand on either side of the door, chest out, backs straight. Then, Aerok enters. He’s fully clothed in his usual immaculate fashion.

  I do not cower. I keep my eyes trained on his as he walks forward to stand in front of me. He crouches so we are eye-level. His lips twist up into a smile as he notices the thin wet lines trailing from my eyes. He reaches a hand forward to wipe them away, but I jerk my head before he can touch me. He’ll never touch me again.

  He laughs. It’s a cold, distant sound, empty of the joy usually found in laughter.

  “Your first mistake,” his voice is low, “was believing you’d ever be fit to rule Erenen.”

  My hands squeeze into fists. I press them against my thighs to keep from lashing out. “Better a woman reign than a fool. You’ll destroy this country.” Venom dwells in each word.

  “No, love, I’ll improve this country. I’ll bring it back to its former glory.”

  “By stealing people from other nations? You’re an idiot. You’ll start a war!”

  His smile fades. A crease creeps along his forehead. “I know war. I’ve comm
anded the Crownsguard, or have you forgotten? A battle won is just another Tuesday for me.”

  I can’t keep myself from laughing. It’s a sad, maniacal laugh, but I don’t care. “You truly are a fool.” I lean close so that only inches separate our faces. “You have no idea how to run a nation. It’s not all about wealth. What good is gold when your guards are hungry and tired of fighting a war that serves no purpose?” I spit at the ground in front of him.

  He stands. “Well, fortunately for you, Erenen is no longer your concern.” His strides are long as he walks toward the door. “You were right about one thing, however. I’ll need an heir from you.” He pauses just inside the cell. “So, tonight, tomorrow night, and every night following, I’ll be back until you give me what I want.”

  Aerok and the two guards leave the room, the door slamming shut behind them. Despair quickly keeps me company. I’m left with the realization that I’ve lost. I push the thoughts from my head and focus my attention. I can’t let emotions overwhelm me. It’s not over yet. I pick at the threads of my hem until it unravels, and two thin metal pieces roll to the ground.

  Colton

  We travel along the shadows of the evening until we reach Demesne. Entering the city was no problem. Now, we’re camped outside the castle walls, blending in with our surroundings, invisible to the guards posted at the gate.

  Six guards. Three at the top, three at the bottom.

  Six bodies we must drop simultaneously to keep them from alerting other the guards in the area. If we miss even one of them, he could set a fire signal mounted at the top of the lookout, which would cause a chain reaction to all other lookouts along the length of the wall. If we miss one, the guards will know we’re here.

  And we can’t have that.

  We need to maintain our invisibility for as long as possible. We’re outnumbered, three-to-one, easily. Until Aiden and Skylar can make it to the arena dungeons and free our remaining men, we need to play it safe with our odds.

  So, we’re waiting.

  Waiting on Kaleo to give the signal so our archers can put an arrow into the skulls of six unsuspecting bodies.

  And he does.

  Arrows fly like a whisper in the night, each meeting its target. The guards are dead before their bodies hit the ground. We wait and listen for any sign that the other guards have noticed their fallen men. It’s quiet.

  Our men move forward, one of which is holding a device that Aiden created. It has four metal claws attached to the end of a rope. A man, Petyr, swings the hook around at his side before letting go. It arcs in the air and lands with a muted clank on the top of the wall. Slowly, he pulls on the rope, making sure the claws are holding against the stone. He’s swift as he climbs it, one hand over the other, until he’s at the top.

  Moments later, the gates open. Petyr stands over two more dead guards as we all file into the castle grounds. I nod to Aiden, who breaks off into a sprint with Skylar toward the arena.

  My sword is out, ready to claim the lives of our enemies. There’s chaos up ahead as guards charge toward us. The castle grounds are lit enough that it’s impossible for us to enter without being seen. There’s over a hundred men with me. We’re a cloud of well-armed anger.

  I catch the whites of a guard’s eyes right before I plunge my sword into the unprotected area of his torso. They should really reconsider their uniforms. For months, I’ve fantasized about killing the guards. I’ve memorized their uniforms, their formations, the way they move and speak. I’ve prepared for this moment, and I’m not alone.

  One after the other, guards fall by our hands. Bodies litter the courtyard, both ally and enemy. I try not to focus on the faces of the men we’re losing. There will come a time to grieve them, but now is not that time.

  We surge forward as guards pour out of the castle doors. Swords clang and arrows fly in the chaos. I look over just as Kaleo’s warhammer crashes into a guard’s head. Well, it used to be a head.

  In the anarchy, I sneak into the castle. Leona is here, and I need to find her. I’m met with two guards in the corridor. They lunge at me with their swords. I maneuver between them, my fist striking out against one’s jaw. He stumbles backward and I shove his partner’s arm so his sword impales the guard’s chest. I pull the knife from my ankle and spin on the ball of my foot as my blade slashes the guard’s neck. Their bodies crumple to the floor, their blood pooling together into a red blanket.

  I catch my breath. My eyes dart around the entryway to the secondary corridors that branch from it. I’ve never been inside the castle before. I have no clue where to go or where I could possibly find Leona. I grumble and choose the path in front of me.

  I dash down the corridor, only stopping when guards try to engage me. A breadcrumb of bodies is left behind. I find a stairwell and climb it, three steps at a time. My lungs are on fire, but I ignore it. The pain only drives me forward. The white-hot fury I’ve been afraid to embrace now has full control over me.

  “Leona,” I call out. My voice echoes against the high ceilings. My yelling brings about more guards and my sword slices the air and sinks into them.

  My head jerks from side to side as I search the rooms lining the corridor. They look like meeting rooms—long tables lined with chairs.

  “Leona!”

  I reach a door at the end of the corridor and another flight of stairs—one leads up and one leads down. Guards emerge from both directions. I step back, gripping my sword like it’s my lifeline. Before me stands a dozen guards, each with blades pointed at me. I swallow a painful gulp of anxiety. I could choose to take them on, and maybe disable four of them before the others run their swords through me. Or, I could turn back the way I came and possibly lose Leona in the process.

  My eyes scan my enemies as I wrangle a solution, but one of them makes the decision for me. He rushes forward, his sword held high, intent on putting me down. I brace myself.

  Before he reaches me, an arrow replaces where his eye once sat. I snap my head behind me. From the shadows, Merethe approaches, bow drawn, as she lets arrow after arrow fly toward the guards. They try to scatter and take cover, but she hits her mark. Every time.

  Critically injured guards layer the floor. The ones who are still writhing, she shoots another arrow for good measure. She looks at me, her eyes abandoned of their natural animosity. There’s no hesitation, no doubt on her face.

  “Shall we continue?” she says.

  I’m at a loss for words. All I can manage to do is nod. The girl who’ve I’ve been against from the beginning has just saved my ass. And she didn’t even break a sweat to do it.

  “I’ve already checked the main halls,” she says as we step over the bodies. “There are cells through that door”—she nods to the end of the corridor—“so that’s probably where she’ll be.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Call it a strong hunch.” Her green eyes look hazel in the torchlight. She reaches for the door, pulling it open with a loud creak. I check behind us to make sure no other guards are coming. When I turn back around, she’s already disappeared through the doorway. I follow her in, picking up my pace to catch up with her.

  It’s a short passageway that leads to another door. It’s already open.

  “Leona?” Merethe says softly, peeking her head inside.

  We enter. The scent of mold and misery reminds me of my time in the dungeons. It also has the same shadows where hope tends to hide.

  I cross the cell to the window. It doesn’t offer much of a view but under the oil lampposts’ light, Skylar and our captured men race from the arena, eager to join the battle. I glance back. “So, where is she?”

  Merethe shakes her head. “I don’t know… We’re too late.”

  I whirl around, panic tensing my shoulders. “What do you mean too late?”

  She’s crouched near the wall with her back toward me. I walk closer as she holds up small metal rods and an opened shackle that catch in the stream of moonlight. “She’s already escaped.” />
  Leona

  I wasn’t a good child growing up. I was restless. Curious. Defiant. Most of my adolescent years were spent slipping away from my guards during the day and exploring the castle during the night. When everyone else was asleep, I was awake. When they said everything was fine, I searched for the secrets. Eventually, the years went by, and my curiosity died as my father molded me into the perfect submissive queen. Despite the tribulations, time never erased my mental map of the castle.

  At the first sign of a disturbance outdoors, I freed myself and took to the hidden spaces of the corridors I occupied as a child. I’ve never picked a lock before, let alone, shackles. In Durst, Aiden explained the general components of the mechanism—how to use the picks to push the pins and engage the tumbler. It was overwhelming trying to soak in his instructions, but I absorbed enough to get the job done.

  I pause in a recessed panel of the corridor and listen to the commotion rumbling outside. Although I can’t see them, I trust my men are out there fighting for us. A sense of pride washes over me and lifts my chest at the comprehension that they made it within the walls. I just hope they can sustain the guards. My heart beats fast and slow like a tornado that is stagnant on the outside, but the eye holds momentum. It’s a weird sensation to feel anxious yet empowered.

  The corridors are quiet. Merethe was right. There isn’t as many guards patrolling. I suspect they must have already been called away to the fuss outdoors. Still, I’m careful to keep hidden as I make my way through the castle. I have my own score to settle. I need to find Aerok. In a moment of hesitation, I failed to complete a task I had risked so much for.

  I can’t keep repeating my mistakes.

  Aerok stole more than just my throne. He will die by my hand tonight—I refuse to allow anything less. My lips twist up into a grin as I scurry past the library, from one shadow to the next. The intrigue of claiming another’s life renews in my mind. After the countless innocents Aerok has sacrificed, joy teases me at the thought of watching his blood seep from open wounds. No longer does the sight of blood terrify me. It excites me.