Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms 1)

Magnus loomed over her. Blood streaked his face and hands. His face was flushed, but he now looked more upset than enraged. For a moment, he reminded her of the small boy he’d once been, crying, his face bleeding.

He reached for her.

Then something hurtled at him and struck the side of his head. He fell to the ground with a grunt and lost hold of his sword. Cleo scrambled to her feet as Nic ran up to them. He’d thrown the palm-size rock that hit Magnus.

The prince wasn’t unconscious, but he was disoriented. He groaned.

Nic surveyed the deadly scene with horror. “Cleo! What happened here?”

She grabbed the prince’s heavy sword and raised it up. She’d never been allowed to hold one before. But she summoned the strength now—strength she never knew she had—to hold it over Magnus’s chest. She could barely see past her tears. Rage and pain was all that gave her the strength to press the tip of the bloody sword over the prince’s heart.

Alarm showed through his disorientation. “Princess...no...”

“He was trying to save me. You made him bleed.” She choked out the words. “Now I want to make you bleed.”

Nic grasped her wrist. “No, Cleo. Don’t do this.”

Her arms ached from holding the heavy sword steady. “I need to stop him from hurting anyone else.”

“He’s stopped. Look at him. We’ve already hurt him. But if you kill him, then this will be even worse than it already is. We need to go home. Now.”

“He wanted to take me back to Limeros as a prisoner. Theon stopped him.”

Nic finally took the sword from her grasp. “He won’t take you. I promise he won’t.”

Magnus looked up at Nic, his expression grim but relieved. “Thank you. I’ll remember your assistance today.”

Nic glared down at him. “I didn’t do this for you, asshole.”

He turned the sword around and bashed Magnus in the head with the hilt. It was enough to knock the prince out cold. Then Nic threw the sword to the side. His hands were now covered in Theon’s blood.

Cleo staggered back to Theon and dropped down next to him. She stroked the bronze-colored hair off his forehead.

had just saved her life again.

Cleo looked toward him, gratitude welling in her heart, a smile ready to bloom on her face. His chest heaved with labored breath; his forehead was damp with sweat. Their eyes met and held.

Then a sword thrust through the center of Theon’s chest from behind, the sharp, bloody tip impaling the front of his uniform. He looked down at it with shock as the sword pulled back and dark blood soaked the fabric.

Horror crashed all around her.

“Theon!” Cleo screamed.

Theon touched his chest and drew his hand away coated with blood. His pained gaze met hers again briefly before he collapsed heavily on his back, his eyes open and staring straight up at the sky.

Magnus stood behind Theon holding a bloody sword.

He frowned down at Theon’s body, his brows drawn tightly together as he shook his head. “He killed my men. He would have killed me next.”

Cleo trembled violently from head to toe and her feet moved without conscious effort. She collapsed at Theon’s side, grabbing his arms, his shoulders, his face. She couldn’t see past the tears in her eyes.

“Theon, you’re all right. It’s only a wound. Please, look at me!” Her hysterical sobs made her words impossible to understand.

He was fine. He had to be. She already had it all planned. He would take her back to Auranos and her father would be angry for a while. She would tell the king that she loved Theon and she didn’t care that he was a guard. He was everything she’d ever wanted. And Cleo always got whatever she wanted—provided she wanted it badly enough.

“I regret that it had to come to this,” Prince Magnus said. “If your guard had backed off when I told him to, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“He’s not just a guard,” she whispered. “Not to me.”