Eadlyn Selects

Anything

With Kile's hand in mine, I feel a surge of happiness and belonging. I'm not sure we can make it out of here but we have to try. Together, we turn toward the door.

Five guys with guns stand there. Not guards. Hale's men. Neena is behind them peeking over one of their shoulders with a gloating expression.

"I knew it. Hale, you okay?" she calls out.

Kile puts his other arm around my shoulders. I wince. I can feel the blood flowing freely down my back from my reopened wounds. Deep, sharding pain detonates from the areas to every nerve in my entire body.

"You're hurt?" Kile whispers.

I nod and whisper hurriedly, "I'm being held in a stone church, surrounded by fields and through some woods. I wish I knew more."

"Eady, I'm not leaving you."

"Kile, you have to tell my dad and bring help," I say. "There are plans to bomb the walls."

I barely register Hale has moved before he is in front of me.

Hale jerks me away from Kile by the wrist. I cry out. Kile pulls up a fist.

"No fricking way are you taking her from me." Kile's jaw is set.

Two guns swivel and point directly at his head.

His face does not change. "She's coming home with me," he says.

From the hard shine of Hale's eyes, I know he is about to hurt the man I love. Suddenly, I am petrified beyond anything I have ever known.

"No!" I scream.

Hale darts his eyes to me and I am certain I see a change in them as he gazes at me. A warmth.

"Please," I beg. "Don't hurt him."

Hale's lips thin and his eyes narrow.

I turn to Kile, ready to say anything to keep him safe. Ready to break his heart –and my own- if I have to in order for him to leave here alive.

Watching our interaction, Kile's face becomes wild with understanding.

"Help us!" Kile cries to the crowd. His wide eyes plead with the women surrounding us. Women who have spent their lives in the dim light straining to pull out seams and reuse worn fabric for scant pay and no benefits.

"They are loyal to Hale," I say in a defeated voice. "They do as he says."

"What?" splutters Kile.

I simply say, "Things in Illea are not as they seem."

Kile stares in shock at the amount of people not raising a hand to help the future queen. Or that's what we thought I would be.

Hale has a death grip on my wrist but with my free hand I tug his sleeve. "Please, Hale, don't hurt him. I won't be any good to you if you hurt him. I swear. I'll kill myself!"

"Oh, how romantic." Hale rolls his eyes.

I turn to Kile. Holding back tears, I choke out, "I love you."

Shock and anguish cover his features. Now he knows, too. We won't be getting out of this together. The only question is how hard will he fight before the inevitable conclusion.

Hale looks me up and down. I know he is noticing the extent of my new injuries. My chin is busted open and my temple throbbing with a sure bruise. My one shoulder droops as if detached from my body and I sway, mostly held upright by Hale's grip on my wrist. The back hem of my shirt drips from the re-traumatized, festering whip wounds.