The Reckless Reign (Book 3, The Culled Crown Series)

Chapter 14

Oredison Palace, Gazda.
The evening of the Welcome Dinner.

The crown clattered to the floor.

I stumbled backward as Kai's fist collided with Caine's jaw. Before his uncle could recover from the first strike, Kai had hit him again. Once, twice, three times. Blood flecked the cream-colored wallpaper.

For a moment, I was stunned—too shocked to move—then I sprang into action.

"Kai, stop!" I moved forward to grab his arm, but I only ended up stumbling back again as Caine threw his first punch. Kai dodged it, tripped over my dress, righted himself, and then managed to shove Caine back from me. My voice was shrill with panic as I yelled, "Stop! Please—Please stop!"

I wanted Caine dead. Goddess, I wanted him to suffer and bleed and die. He deserved every hit, every bruise, and every piece of split skin. But I also knew that for every mark Kai made on his uncle's body, a mark would be added to mine. This was a story I'd read before. I knew it would end with my hand above the fire. It would end with me crying. It would end with me begging.

And I was already begging.

"Please, Kai. Please stop!"

He didn't listen.

My back hit the wall behind Kai and I had to lift my arms to block my face from their blows. I started to move forward again, but then Kai was shoved against the wall next to me. His breathing was heavy, his jaw clenched tight, as he started to lunge forward again, back towards Caine. Just as he moved, I stepped forward, ready to block his path. But I never made it. Before I could get between the two of them, a hand clamped around my upper arm and I was tugged backward.

I barely recognized Cohen as he shoved me away from the fight, darted forward, and placed himself between Kai and Caine. Before he could throw another punch, Cohen had Kai shoved against the wall, pressed a hand to his chest. The prince turned towards Caine, ready to put a hand on him too, but Darragh was already there, standing at Cohen's back, his hands held up in the sort of gesture you'd make to calm a raging horse.

Kai's breathing was labored and blood dripped from his nose and onto his crisp white shirt, but he didn't fight against Cohen's hold. He didn't look away from Caine either.

I stepped forward, taking Cohen's place and putting myself into Kai's line of sight. His chest rose and fell with each breath, but I knew it wasn't exhaustion—this was fury, blind wrath.

Darragh still stood with his hands up as he glanced between Kai and Caine. "I do not know what has happened," he said, his shaking voice and accented words coming out unsure. "But I am sure whatever dispute has taken place can be settled with words. Not—Not fists."

Cohen was watching me, his gaze moving from me to Kai. He noted my hand on Kai's chest and I knew, just from the way he clenched his jaw, that he didn't like it.

Caine stepped backward from us, wiping blood from his face as he went. His eye was swollen and it looked like he had a split lip, maybe even a broken nose. Kai may have taken a few hits himself, but he'd done more damage to his uncle. And, judging from the surprise on Caine's face and the hatred lacing his expression, nothing quite like this had ever happened before. Mirren Caine was used to hitting people, but he had no experience being hit.

Kai seemed to sense the retaliation coming because he took hold of my wrist and pulled my hand away from him, untangling my fingers from his shirt with a gentleness that didn't match the blood coating his hands. Before I could realize what he was doing, I was being guided towards Cohen.

Kai glanced at his half-brother, "Take her to her room."

My throat burned. "Kai—"

He didn't look at me as he said, "Go to your room, Monroe."