The Edge (Book 5 of The Claiming Series)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Eris isn't conscious for long. Maybe it's the coppery stench of blood pooling the entrance hall, or the sight of so much death... Whatever it is, I see her start to sway, so I pry Levi out of her arms just before she hits the ground.

"Eris," I hiss, struggling to kneel down and check on her. "Eris, can you hear me?" I shake her shoulder with my free hand, but she doesn't respond. I whip my head around, scanning the horrid room, looking for—I don't know—help? A sign of life from one of the slain bodies?

In the corner of the dim entryway, nestled between the palace entrance and the door to the ballroom, I see a flicker of movement. I squint my eyes to see. All I can hear is my heartbeat in my head and the sound of Levi crying once more.

It's a man.

Sitting in the corner with his arms resting up on his knees, a gun hanging from loose fingertips. I watch, holding my breath, as he unfolds himself and staggers to his feet with a grunt. He tries to saunter into the middle of the room where the floor is lit, but he can't hide the limp in his right leg. "Your men put up quite a fight, Your Majesty." He lifts his head to look at me kneeling at the top of the stairs with Eris's head on my leg and Levi in the crook of my arm.

I've never seen him before. He's got buzzed, short grey-black hair and a small patch of beard on his chin. His stature has all the bulk and brawn that labels him as a military figure, just not with us. He wears a dark blue uniform with emblems on his chest, displaying his rank. He must be important—there are a lot of them.

"You did all this?" I say, my voice full of shock more than anger.

He snorts. "I had some help, but I sent them on. I needed them elsewhere. Besides, I only need to wait here with you until our main event arrives."

Levi finally starts to settle again. I narrow my eyes at the Bayfell man. "Who are you?"

The man starts prodding at one of the arms of a fallen guard as if the sight is unfortunate to him.

We both know it's not.

"I am the Commander."

My blood runs cold.

They all called him the Commander.

I never forgot Eli's haunting retelling of his days imprisoned by Bayfell. And this man at the bottom of the stairs, his boots spattered in the blood of my people, is that very man who tortured my husband. Ended innocent lives before his eyes.

Left a scar on Eli's heart that has yet to be fully healed.

I must show the contempt on my face now. The Commander raises an eyebrow with a smirk lifting the corners of his lips. "Heard of me, have we? All good things, I hope."

Before I can respond, another contraction locks in, and I grit my teeth and gasp through the pain. I accidentally grip Levi a little too tight, and he begins to cry again.

I hear the commander burst into laughter, the sound toxic among so many dead bodies. "It would appear the poison has done more than just render you confused and ill."

My chest grips in terror. "Poison?"

"No worries. Not enough to kill you or the child. Just enough to make you an ever-present worry in your king's mind. And, apparently enough to put you into labor, as you were saying to your friend. It echoes in this place, you know?"

So, it was a psychological ploy.

But why would a powerful, brutal Commander be put in charge of me? I'm obviously no threat to anyone at the moment. Or ever.