This is death. Even with eyes closed tightly, even with my hands clamped as securely as I can over them, the sun still sears my eyes. And maybe part of the intensity is mental, knowing I am trapped here inside. Maybe it’s just my instincts telling me to flee and knowing I cannot, but now, the pain is so intense, I wish for death.
“Ian,” I breathe with a sob through the pain. “I need you to tell me something.”
He hisses through his own pain and I hear him smack the stone floor with his hand. “What?”
“Who drained me?” And for a moment, everything stills, hanging on the answer to my simple question.
One beat. Two.
“Me,” he finally answers.
There’s the truth. Nothing in me doubts it.
“It was me.”
The sun crests over the trees, engulfing me in blinding sunlight, and I have never known pain such as this.
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Keary Taylor grew up along the foothills of the Rocky Mountains where she started creating imaginary worlds and daring characters who always fell in love. She now splits her time between a tiny island in the Pacific Northwest and Utah, dragging along her husband and their two young children. She continues to have an overactive imagination that frequently keeps her up at night.
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Keary Taylor, House of Kings (House of Royals Book 3)
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