Chapter. 64
Ivan’s brow creases up. Hearing the words out loud, that I’m standing in his way, snaps something in his mind. He’s not just angry, he’s enraged.
“Then kill the traitor,” Ivan says.
A rock forms in my stomach. The man Jacob heralded as great, the man I’ve spent all this time searching for, the last of my family, wants me dead? He hates me now? All because I don’t want him to murder Rahlan? How could he just toss me aside so easily?
“Ivan...” Titus glances back at him, shocked at the order.
“I said kill her,” he growls.
His words make me flinch. The sword shakes in my hands, and my eyes burn. I’m not a traitor. I know vampires are terrible. They committed an atrocity upon our people, and I’ve experienced that firsthand. But even knowing all that, the thought of Rahlan dead makes me want to breakdown.
There’s a thud behind me. I look back for just a second. Rahlan’s lying flat on the ground, motionless. A lump grows in my throat. He can’t be dead. He’s too strong. I’ve seen his strength, his will, his authority. He can’t be dead from something as small as an arrow.
Titus stares at me, silently willing me to step aside. He doesn’t want to do this.
I keep my sword raised. Tears run down my cheeks that I didn’t know were there. I know that I don’t stand a chance against a trained swordsman, but moving aside and just allowing him to kill Rahlan is inconceivable. How could I live with myself with that image in my mind, knowing that I just allowed it to happen.
Titus’s eyes narrow. His apprehension has disappeared. He’s made his choice.
I suck in my breath.
He sheaths his sword and turns around.
I stand straight, confused. What is he doing?
He walks back to Ivan.
Ivan’s face twists up. “Where are you-”
“I joined the huntsmen believing our purpose was to protect people, not slay them. Now I find that it is ruled by one who easily wishes death upon his own family.” He steps past Ivan.
“Don’t you understand? She’s with them,” Ivan says.
“Our entire country is under their rule now,” Titus says. “Slaughtering those who obey them does nothing but satisfy your malice. You lack the ability to distinguish conflicted allies from enemies, giving no one a second thought, even if they are your own family. I’m leaving before you attempt to murder any more of our people.”
He passes under a stone arch and disappears into a back room.
A door creaks, and silence follows. He’s gone.
Ivan’s attention lands on the hooded archers. Their bows are already packed away on their backs. They never had any intention of shooting me. I should’ve known considering that Jacob used to be a member of this group, and he wouldn’t have associated himself with men who are eager to murder people.
They turn away from Ivan and follow after Titus.
“Are you all fools?” Ivan says. “Do you all side with the vampires that trampled our land?”
Without a word, they disappear under the stone arch. The backdoor creaks again as they exit the chapel.
Ivan is left standing alone on the stage. He’s unarmed.
I walk forward, my blade leading me. “Get out.”
“Julia, you-”
“Get out!” I storm forward, sword extended. I have no family. This is just a man who’s trying to kill Rahlan. While he’s in this building, Rahlan’s not safe, and I have no problem hurting a man I clearly don’t know.
He slowly backs up, raising his hands. “Listen-”
I whip Rahlan’s blade through the air, and the tip passes just inches from his shirt. My next strike will cut his skin.
Spinning around, he rushes out through the same arch as the others. The backdoor slams shut a moment later.
With the immediate threats gone, I rush back to Rahlan. Dropping the sword, I kneel beside his still form. “Rahlan...”
He’s lying with his cheek pressed against the stone. His eyes are closed, and his cape is tangled around his legs.
“Wake up.” I shake his shoulders, but his body remains limp.
Tears prick my eyes. He’s not dead. He’s just asleep. He’s not dead. He’s just asleep.
I lift his shoulder, pulling him over with a groan. He must have bones of iron to be so heavy. He’s not dead. There’s no way an oil could hurt someone as tough as him. It’s impossible.
I strain to let him down gently onto his back. His head lolls onto the stone. He’s not dead.
“Rahlan, please wake up.” I raise his head up off the hard floor and rest it on my lap. My fingers touch his cheek. His skin is cold, but he’s always cold. Why won’t he wake up?