Ruined by Amy Tintera

Author:Amy Tintera
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-02-22T06:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

EM WOKE TO the sound of her door creaking.

Her eyes flew open, and she rolled out of the sheets and onto the floor. She sprang to her feet, making a beeline for the dresser that held her knife.

“It’s me,” came Iria’s soft voice.

Em squinted in the darkness to where Iria stood by the door.

“What are you doing? What time is it?” Fear slammed into her chest, and she clasped the handle of the dresser drawer, ready to grab the knife. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re executing Damian.”

“Now?” She’d meant to yell it, but the word came out as a strangled whisper instead.

“The king just woke some of the guards. Aren is already out there.”

She flew across the room, shoving her feet into her boots. She knocked against Iria’s shoulder as she wrenched open the door.

“Don’t!” Iria hissed from behind her. “If they see you . . .”

Em didn’t catch the last of Iria’s words as she ran out of her rooms and into the hallway. It was dark and quiet, the curtains still shut tight over the windows. Most of the lanterns lining the hallway were unlit.

She darted to the main staircase, but a tiny voice in the back of her head told her not to rush to the front entrance of the castle in full view of the guards. She spun around, sprinting down the hallway and taking the back staircase to the kitchen instead.

Iria’s footsteps pounded behind her as she ran through the staff dining room and out the door. She was wearing only a white nightgown, and the morning air was cool against her bare arms and legs. The sky was deep blue with the smallest hint of orange beginning to appear on the horizon.

The gardens were empty, and Em looked over her shoulder at Iria. “South lawn?” She received no reply except Iria attempting to grab for her arm. She shook the warrior off and sprinted around the side of the castle, Iria’s footsteps following her.

Aren came into view as soon as she rounded the corner. He was leaning against the wall, his hands braced on his knees, his lips moving in silent prayer. She’d walked in on Aren praying many times in her life, though never after the castle burned, with his parents in it.

She drew in a ragged breath and his head popped up, his eyes wide and wet. “You can’t be here.”

“Is he dead?” she whispered.

Aren put both hands behind his neck, ducking his face into his chest. “I don’t know. I can’t look.”

She took a few steps forward. She didn’t want to see, but her feet kept moving anyway. They were slow, heavy with the sinking feeling that there was nothing she could do for Damian now.

She curled her fingers around the corner of the castle, peeking onto the south lawn.

Damian was on his knees near the stairs down to the dungeon. His ankles were tied together, his wrists bound in front of him. A guard was behind him with a blade. The king and queen stood not far away, along with Jovita and a few more guards.

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