The Pledge (The Pledge 1) - Page 71


She nodded, her eyes filled with remorse. “What are you doing here, Charlaina? We told you to stay away, to keep your sister safe at all costs.”

I glanced back to the queen, grateful that I’d left Angelina behind. “She’s safe,” I assured my mother softly. Speaking to the guards, I ordered, “Untie them.” I unbound my father’s mouth and used the dirty rag to blot fresh blood that oozed from a wound at his scalp. I wondered how recently he’d been abused, and the thought made my stomach clench.

Neither of the guards moved, so I turned to the old woman in the throne. “Please, they’re not going anywhere. What harm could it do?”

The queen lifted an eyebrow and nodded, a silent consent to my request, and my parents were freed.

My father wasn’t as gentle as I’d been. His arms reached around me, crushing me against him. “I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you, Charlaina, about who you were. We worried for your safety.” He pulled back to gaze at me, and I could see the sorrow in his swollen, bloodshot eyes. “We couldn’t risk that she find out you existed.” He squeezed me once more, and this time his words came out on the quietest breath, meant only for my ears. “Don’t do anything she wishes. Do whatever it takes to get out of here alive, Charlaina. Leave us behind if you must.” Ku m; His grip tightened, ensuring that I understood the significance of what he’d just asked of me.

But before I could formulate a denial of my own, the queen’s voice struck like a flash of lightning, causing goose bumps to ripple over my skin and the hair at the back of my neck to bristle. “She will do no such thing! If she does, she’ll have no parents to return to.”

My mother reached for my hand, clutching it so hard that I could feel the tears she was unwilling to shed. “Don’t listen to her, Charlie. You need to stay alive. Angelina needs you to stay alive.”

And then the world around me exploded as my father’s entire body convulsed, seizing as he fell to his knees, his eyes widening with panic, his fingers clutching at his throat.

From behind me, Max’s voice rang out in fury. “Stop it! Release him!” I turned to see him hurtling toward the throne, toward his own grandmother—the queen—where she stood, her balled fist lifted, pointing directly at my father. Xander intercepted one of the royal guards who moved to stop his brother, and his fist crashed into the man’s nose. The crushing sound was revolting, and the guard dropped forward, cupping his bloodied face in his hands.

But Max never made it to the throne.

It was the rifle’s blast that stilled everything. My blood stopped pumping as ceiling plaster clattered in chunks over the polished marble floor at our feet, a consequence of the warning shot. But we all watched in horror as the guard holding the firearm dropped the nose of his weapon and directed it at Max.

No one moved. No one blinked.

Yet it was my father for whom I feared most.

He couldn’t breathe. Somehow the queen was blocking his airway as he writhed on the floor, struggling against her spell.

I stood frozen, watching it all, yet unable to move from my spot on the floor. I turned to the old woman who was showing me just how ruthless she could be. “Please, don’t do this! Don’t hurt him!” I implored.

The queen, indifferent to the weapon aimed at her grandson, quivered as she stared down at me, her fist still extended in front of her. “You can stop it, Charlaina. All you have to do is offer yourself in their place.” She pursed her already thinned lips.

I turned to look at my father. Blood began to drip from his nose and seep from his ears. My mother saw too, but her words were determined. “Don’t do it, Charlie. No matter what. Do you hear me? Never. Never!”

Then she, too, fell to her knees, gasping at first . . . and then desperately silent as she, also, fought for air.

My entire body shook as I turned back to Sabara, seeing her for what she truly was . . . the quintessence of evil. It was the hardest decision I’d ever had to make. She was asking me for my life. Or to forfeit my parents.

I thought of Angelina, of what my decision would mean for her.

Scalding tears burned my cheeks as I searched for my voice. At last I closed my eyes and answered, “I won’t do it.”

The silence of a queen is deafening and can stretch into eternity and back. Standing before her, I understood the meaning of forever as I waited for her response.

“I was hoping we could do this the easy way, Charlaina,” she finally stated, demanding everyone’s attention as she made a show of slowly, deliberately, opening her fist and then dropping her hand to her side.

The gasps for air that came from behind me were enough to let me know that she’d just released my parents from her grip, but I was afraid to take my eyes away from the queen.

“Take them away,” she said, ordering their removal. They were nothing more than trash to her.

As if on cue, the huge gilded doors opened from the outside, and she added, “I can see you’ve opted to make things difficult.”

As my parents and Aron were being dragged away, a woman I almost didn’t recognize through the bloodied bruises that mangled her face was carried inside by two guards and dropped onto the marble floor in front of me. Her lower lip was torn, the flesh hanging limply, ineffectively from her mouth, baring her teeth in an eternal sneer. Had it not been for the spikes of blue hair visible through the blood-soaked scalp, I would never have realized that it was Eden I was staring at.

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