Blackmailing His Bride (Court of Paravel)

I start to scream and struggle. “Let me go. I have to tell him that I’m safe.”

“You can’t. It’s not what he would want. His job is to protect you.”

“I said let me go.”

I’m drowned out by an earsplitting cracking sound, and the whole wing of the palace collapses in an eruption of sparks.

20

Jakob

Smoke scours my throat. The roar of the flames is drowned out only by the creaking of the building. I stay as low to the ground as possible as I make my way along the corridor from room to room. Every single one is filled with flames and smoke and is impossible to enter.

I keep going until I’m almost back to the corridor where Wraye and I were when the building exploded. There’s no sign of Sachelle anywhere.

If she’s not in here, she must be out there.

Out there, with whoever did this.

Levanter’s out there, too. Her bodyguards and all my men and the King’s Guard are out there, but if someone was able to do this, then they’re capable of anything, and Sachelle is near the top of the list of targets for some very dangerous people.

Ahead, the flames have taken greater hold. Panic and dizziness threaten to overwhelm me, and I crouch for a moment on one knee. I can’t go back the way I came. I have to press on.

I take as deep a breath as I dare, get to my feet, and charge into the flames. I keep running and running, my lungs burning and my eyes stinging. If I take another breath, my blood will fill with poisonous carbon dioxide and I’ll die right here, in the middle of this maelstrom.

A draft of fresh air fans my face. There’s light ahead. Pure, clear daylight, not the hungry terror of licking flames. I’m nearly there.

There’s a deafening crash, and then the world falls down around me. Daylight is blotted out as charred beams thud to the ground. I’m knocked to the floor and one of the burning pieces of debris falls across my legs. I’m doused in sparks and a wave of intense heat. Beneath the coat, I scream in pain.

Strong hands grab my shoulders and they pull and pull. More hands grab me. The pain in my legs is excruciating. I feel like I’m being torn in two, and no matter how hard they pull, I’m not budging.

I’m going to pass out again, perhaps never to wake up. If Levanter doesn’t protect Sachelle and keep her safe, I’ll haunt that fucker for the rest of his goddamn life.

Flashes of light. Words shouted into my ears.

Pain.

Burning hot pain.

I’m being roasted alive. This must be what hell feels like.

Maybe I’m in hell. It wouldn’t surprise me.

My head swims and grows fuzzy, and the burning dies away. I can hear a woman weeping. A fresh kind of hell, because it’s Sachelle. She’s sobbing her heart out somewhere and I can’t open my eyes and find her.

On and on it goes, the fierce pain, the sobbing, and then numbness. Someone’s doing this to me. Torturing me by bringing me back into pain and loneliness and sending me to oblivion again. I try to force out words but my throat burns and there’s only hoarse gasping. I’m blind and mute and my hearing is little better.

“Jakob.”

Her voice is a cooling draft of air. I turn toward it, reaching out, but my arms are hampered and clumsy and I can’t lift them.

Someone touches my shoulder. Her hand on my bare shoulder. I could weep it feels so real. She’s real. She’s alive.

And I’m alive?

“Sach…elle.”

“Don’t try to talk. Your throat is burned from the smoke. You’re in the hospital and on morphine.”

She speaks quietly and unemotionally, and so unlike her usual self that dread begins to overtake me. She’s hiding something.

“The firemen pulled you out from beneath burning rubble. Your upper body was mostly protected by a coat you had over your head. Your legs are badly burned. You’ve had three surgeries.” She takes a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, Jakob, they had to remove some of your toes.”

Toes. Losing toes isn’t so bad, right? I don’t know if it’s the drugs or not, but I don’t feel anything.

Sachelle’s voice cracks. “You went into shock and your heart stopped twice. I thought you weren’t going to come back.”

I fumble for my face but she catches my hand and gently draws it back down.

That’s when I realize I can’t see anything.

“My…eyes?”

Sachelle hesitates, and my heart plummets. I can’t lose my eyes. Toes are one thing. I don’t care about scars, either, but I don’t know how to live if I’m blind. I’ll never see Sachelle again.

“The doctors say they’re irritated from the smoke. They’re bandaged right now and we won’t know if your sight has been affected until they take the bandages off.”