All the Kings Fall by A. M. Dunnewin

Author:A. M. Dunnewin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dark fantasy, gothic fiction, gothic romance, new adult, action adventure, epic fantasy, executioner, romantasy
Publisher: Dark Hour Press, LLC
Published: 2023-11-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Aric’s first kill in the tunnel was, more or less, a surprise.

He was meandering through the underground, taking his time. The knocking sounds and airy whispers unnerved him, but he remained on his path, anticipating what was to come, either in front of him or behind. The lights overhead didn’t help either, making his nerves race, wondering if he’d be thrown back into complete darkness.

It was when he rounded past another endless corner that he finally came face-to-face with one of the masked goons. By how the figure was hurrying, he must not have liked being down there either.

With both coming to a stop, the two stared at each other before the masked figure went for something at his hip. Assuming it was a gun, Aric darted forward, kicking the man right in the chest which caused him to fall backwards. Hitting the ground, he had just fished out the pistol from his holster when Aric’s knee thudded against his chest, pinning him down and causing a scream to erupt, which echoed throughout the tunnel. He didn’t have a chance to raise his arm before the blade of the knife sank into his neck, changing his scream into a gurgling noise before the silence took him.

Pulling the blade out, Aric used the man’s cloak to clean the knife and lifted the mask up. Nope, still don’t know you, he thought, letting go of the mask which snapped back onto the man’s face.

He was coming to his feet when he heard the voice.

“Let’s just say there’s a reason why many don’t come down here.”

While the tone was faint, Aric recognized Callan Ronen’s voice immediately.

He made it in, Aric thought. If the prince was down here, then there was a chance Jocelyn and Henrik were too.

Eyeing the gun, Aric decided to leave it. If it went off, anyone in the tunnels would hear it, putting Callan, Jocelyn, and Henrik in danger if any more of those masked cretins were hanging around. Besides, he was used to doing things the quiet way; it was the habit of being an assassin.

He hurried quietly through the tunnel, following it while it curved. Some of the bulbs continued flickering, harsher than before, as he found that his path ended at another tunnel a little way down.

He still heard Callan as he came to the adjoining tunnel, the distant echoes erasing his words but not his tone. Cautiously looking both ways, Aric found only flickering lights in either direction. A knock came from somewhere deep in the walls, but for Aric that’s not what had crawled up his spine.

It was the sound of footsteps and rustling coming from behind him.

Sidestepping into the other tunnel and pressing against the wall, he faced the direction Callan’s voice had traveled from, waiting poised against the dirt. He heard the footsteps drawing around the bend, coming to the same junction. Aric knelt down, readying himself.

The sound of boot heels against the dirt drew closer, and as the figure rounded the

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