42. Elisabed

42

Elisabed

The pain was constant, searing through my body as Raol’s fingers dug into the raw flesh he’d already tortured. I focused on the pain, forcing my mind away from Mily and her quiet crawl toward Raol. I couldn’t do anything to give her away.

“You should have stayed in your place, Elisabed.” Raol’s voice was low and filled with venom as his hand slid across my skin. His touch was still deliberate and cruel. “But you couldn’t stay quiet, could you? You couldn’t just be the good little omega you were supposed to be.”

The cool air hit my exposed skin, and I shivered involuntarily.

Raol’s laughter was cold and empty. “You think you’re strong?” His fingers dug into my shoulder, pushing me roughly into the stone wall. “You’re nothing. You’ll always be nothing.”

His breath hissed through his teeth as he lifted the blade, and I braced myself. His cold eyes were trained on me, unblinking, the madness clear in them.

As long as he was looking at me, he wasn’t looking at Mily.

But then, something changed. It happened so fast I couldn’t even react in time. Raol’s eyes glazed over and a low growl rumbled from his chest. I saw the bloodlust take over completely. It was like a switch flipped in his mind. The Raol I once knew—however cruel he had been—was gone.

His face twisted, contorting with something dark, something unhinged. He didn’t say anything anymore; he just snarled, his body tense with the strain of holding back the madness.

I didn’t have time to think—only to react. My survival instinct kicked in, and my muscles tensed as I threw myself backward, trying to scramble away from his reach. But he was too quick. His hands—clawed and brutal—were upon me in an instant, and before I could even take a breath, I was on the ground, my back slamming against the cold stone floor.

Raol’s weight pinned me down, his breath hot and ragged against my skin, the stench of his madness clouding my senses. I tried to shove him off me, but my bound hands were useless against the force of his body pressing me down. His eyes—those wild, unseeing eyes—were locked onto me now, and I could feel the hunger in him. It wasn’t just the need to dominate. It was the need to rip, tear, and destroy.

I tried to scream, but no sound came. My heart was in my throat, beating so fast I couldn’t keep up. His hands moved to my neck, and for a second, everything went black. My body was on fire with pain, and I felt the pressure against my throat, his fingers cutting off my air. I kicked and thrashed beneath him, trying to force him off, but he was too strong, too heavy.

I knew what was coming.

I could feel his teeth—sharp and brutal—graze against my skin as his mouth moved closer. His grip tightened, and it was all I could do to not let panic consume me. But then, Raol froze.

His body shook with tension as the bloodlust faded from his eyes for one brief moment.

Then I heard the sound as Mily struck—the unmistakable sound of a knife digging through flesh. Raol growled as the knife sunk deep into his back...and then he was dead, and his body was pinning me to the cold, sticky floor.

My chest heaved as I struggled to wriggle free, my fingers slick with his blood as I pushed against his bulk. Each movement sent a sharp reminder of my battered body, every bruise and cut screaming in protest, but I didn’t care. I needed to move. I needed to get to Mily.

With one last desperate push, I managed to slide out from under him, my limbs trembling as I collapsed onto the floor. The world spun for a moment, and the sharp, metallic scent of blood threatened to overwhelm me, but I forced myself to focus.

“Mily,” I rasped, my voice raw.

She sat a few feet away, clutching the knife with white-knuckled hands. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, and her chest rose and fell in quick, panicked breaths. The knife—still slick with Raol’s blood—quivered in her grip.

“Mily,” I said again, crawling toward her.

Her gaze snapped to mine, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “I—I killed him,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I—I had to, Lis. He was going to—he was—”

“I know,” I interrupted gently, prying the knife from her shaking hands and tossing it aside. “You did what you had to do.”

I pulled her into my arms, holding her close as she shook against me. Her small frame felt so fragile, yet she had been the one to end him. My brave, terrified little sister.

“It’s over now,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it myself. The feral energy that had sparked Raol’s madness wasn’t gone. It was still out there, alive and raging.

Mily sniffled and pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face looking up at me. “What’s happening, Elisabed? Why did he—why did he go like that?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, brushing her hair away from her face. I had an idea, but I didn’t want her to panic. “But we can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

She nodded, clinging to my hand as I helped her stand. My legs threatened to give out beneath me, but I tightened my grip on her and steeled myself. Whatever was coming, I had to keep her safe.

I adjusted my clothes and ripped some fabric to protect my hands as I broke through a window. I helped Mily carefully climb outside, and chaos greeted us.