The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl Chapter 9: Nine

I scream, launching myself like a complete idiot.

If it did one thing, it is to startle the assassin enough to gift Prince Rafe a few seconds away from the edge of his massive blade.

I slam into the assassin from the side and rebounce. His body feels like it is made of steel. And suddenly, the Prince using as a scapegoat in training makes all the more sense. If this is what we fight against, then we are already dood.

He turns his attention to fully, his sick grin revealing yellowed teeth. His pupils are red and slit through the middle, reminding of a kid’s drawing of the devil.

I thrust my sword forward, helplessly and he catches it like it is a stick, even if it slices his skin.

"A small thing like you felled Thorin?" He licks his lips, excitent gleaming in his eyes. "I could eat."

Horror widens my eyes as he lunges for with a speed soone of his size should be incapable of. I barely dodge the attack before his fist slams into the ground where I had been, shattering concrete.

Though it is utterly stupid, I take my eyes off the assassin, and I see the Prince lying unconscious, blood leaking from his sides.

By the Goddess--

I am plucked off the floor by a large hand and I scream as my back slams into the wall. I hear the sound of bones breaking and pain erupts in my left arm. It’s broken, twisted at the wrong angle.

The hand doesn’t let go, instead settling around my throat and squeezing. I cough, kicking, my sword arm swinging to find purchase as my vision blurs.

I see his red gaze widen as my check smacks into his in my attempt to wiggle free. His tongue slithers against the shell of my ear, and bile rises in my throat. "Do all soldiers of Silvermoor sll like won?" His free hand runs up my ribs, touching my chest and rage burns through the fear clogging my throat.

"Not my fault you and your brothers choose to sll like horseshit, neanderthal." I jab my sword upward with the last of my strength. It’s a blind, pathetic movent, but my blade still finds his cheek. It carves a shallow, stinging line from the corner of his lip to the edge of his eye. Blood splatters warm across my face.

He rears back with a snarl and I feel his hands start to crush my windpipe--

Clang. Clang. Clang.

The bells erupt above in warning.

The monster hisses, his gaze cutting across the room to the Prince’s bleeding form.

"He’s dead anyway," he mutters with contempt. Then his eyes return to . "We’ll et again soon, hussy. On the battlefield." His lips pull back in a twisted grin. "I will enjoy ripping you apart limb from limb."

He vanishes in a blur of black.

I land hard, air flooding my lungs as I collapse to the ground, gasping, coughing, the bells ringing even louder.

I crawl to the Prince, one hand dragging uselessly behind . His breathing is shallow. Too shallow.

"Rafe," I whisper, checking his pulse, pressing my good hand to the wound by his side to stauch the bleeding. His eyelids flutter and for a mont, his eyes focus on before his head lolls left, his face drained of all color. "No, no, no..."

I don’t...I don’t know what...what to do. I can’t tell how deep it is. There’s blood everywhere, my hands are covered in it.

The door slams open.

Boots pound in.

"By the ancestors--"

I jerk up, blinking through the haze to see the Quartermaster charging in, eyes wild. Relief washes through . "H-he’s hurt," I croak, throat still raw. "But he’s alive. We need to stop the--"

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Frowning, I stare at the n behind the Quartermaster with swords already drawn, all pointed at . And the fear in their gazes, the way they look at like I’m sothing monster, the way they look at the blood on my hands like I have maid the prince...

Oh no.

I raise my hand to the air in surrender or defense, I don’t know, moving away from Prince Rafe. Their swords rise higher, eyes filled with mistrust and disgust.

"I didn’t do that to him! There was...there were two n! I killed one of them, an assassin from Ebonheart!" I point to the broken window behind them. "The second leaped out the window!"

I might as well have been shouting that unicorns existed.

The Quartermaster nods to the guards. "Secure him. He attempted to murder the Crown Prince of Silvermoor. He must be a spy."

"No, wait--I didn’t--I saved him! I saved his life!" I cry. "Check the bodies outside. I killed one of them. I saved his life!"

The n grab anyway and I swallow a cry as they roughly grip my broken arm, securing it around my back.

Master Sebastian sneers at . "And how, pray tell, do you explain being here at the right ti to save his life? Let guess, the Goddess spoke to your ears and inford you that His Highness’ life was in danger?"

Anger and frustration lds into one. "I heard him. He roared for help. He was in my head."

Only once it leaves my lips do I realize how insane I sound. Every one must think the sa. That I did this. Weakly, I add, "Are you saying a frail thing like killed all those n? How could I have? You’ve watched --"

"The enemy must have slipped you into our ranks and used you to get close to the Prince." His lips thin. "All that talk of being the bastard son of House Ironfang. Eldric vouched for you. He must have been in on it. His wife as well--"

"I swear to the Goddess, if you touch one hair on my mother’s head, I will kill you!" I snarl.

Master Sebastian regards with disdain and nods at the guards. "Take the traitor to the chamber beneath the tower." To the others he says, "Call for Astrea."

As I am dragged from the chamber, I realize why the Quartermaster hadn’t believed a single word I said.

The dead assassin is no longer where I left him.