House of Heirs by S. E. Gutierrez (color ebook reader txt) 📕

Cera slowly, slowly recovered. She inched herslef out of the fetal position, lying flat on her stomach on the cold marble floors.  She steadied her breathing and forced herself into a sitting postion. She knew she needed to run, but her ribs hurt so bad. Cera knew she'd been a fool for not killing Sam when she'd had the chance. Still, she thought, I don't regret it. She forced herself to stand and stiffled a scream at the intense pain in her side.  She shuffled over to the thrones and practically threw herself into the closest one. She leaned her head back, trying to even out her breathing. She knew she needed to check her side for signs of internal bleeding, but in her current dress, she wouldn't be able to unless she comepletely undressed. She couldn't imagine the pain that would cause. 

She glanced around the room, hoping to find something she could use to cut her dress open. Of course, Sam had taken the only sharp object in the throne room. Grumbling to herself, Cera poked at her side, feeling for any tightness or swelling. She sighed with relief when she felt nothing. She decided she would take a rest before she tried to leave. Her side still caused spots to dance across her vision. Within moments, she'd fallen asleep in the plush throne only to be awaken by warm hands wrenching her out of the chair and jerking her hands behind her back. The Captain had found her. 

He dragged her from the throne room, half expecting her to struggle. Instead, she just let him toss her over his shoulder and carry her to the dark depths of the castle. She never moved, never spoke, she seemed to hardly breathe at all. Sam felt almost guilty. He'd been the one to hurt her so badly. She'd at least come back to patch him up, but he had just left her lying there on the throne room floor. He shook those thoughts from his head He had to remind himself that this beautiful girl was the Assassin King's daughter, that she was an enemy of the kingdom's. That he wasn't allowed to think about her.

When he finally made it to the dungeons, he laid Cera in the cell adjacent to Lianna's. The assassin only cried out when her broken form hit the stone floor. She curled into a ball, and Sam had to turn away. Distance, he thought, I need to distance myself from her. He repeated his intructions to kill them should they try to escape and had to hold back from running out of the dungeon. He needed to clear his head and check on the king, queen, and prince. The Captain forced himself to walk instead of run to the Family Chambers where the royals were waiting.

Cera awoke cold and in pain. She heard murmuring coming from the cell next to her and forced herself to roll over. She nearly threw up. Not just from the pain. Lianna, her cousin Lianna, was trying to sweet talk the guard. Cera had to bite back a laugh. That was certainly something she'd never forget. Lianna harumphed when the guard refused her "tantilizing offer" and went back to sulking.

"Ooh, almost had him." Cera rasped. "Too bad he can smell whore."

"At least I'm not sleeping withe the Captain." Lianna shot back. "Although he is a fine specimen to look at."

"Leave Sam out of this!" Cera barked.

"Oh, first name basis?" Lianna feigned shock. "I believe the whore that boy was smelling was you dear cousin."

"At least I didn't plan and assassination for my own uncle." Cera retorted.

"No, you wouldn't have the brain to pull it off." Lianna stated, picking dirt out from under her nails.

Cera bared her teeth. "At least I didn't kill my own family. That," Cera growled. "Will land you prime real estate in Hell, dear cousin."

"If I were worried about my soul, I wouldn't have become the Cold Assassin. What I am worried about is blood. I am not the heir by blood. I cannot inherit the throne. No. Not with that blasted Assassin King around. Not with the Cadwell family around. Not with the Snow family." she turned to meet Cera's eye. "And certainly not with you around. I intend to rule this great continent on my own. I'll not share my power and I'll not wait for it either. I care nothing for you, for your father, or for that blasted guard you're clearly sweet on. I care about money, about power, about reigning supreme. I shall be the first to rule all of Tallirey."

Cera turned away. "Not if I get there first." she uttered, so low that not even the rat eating the hay in the far corner of her cell could hear.

 It took hours of heated discussion for Captain Braun to convince the king to order an evacuation of the palace. With two well known and titled assassin's around, the Cadwell's couldn't take any chances. Two of Sam's most trusted soldiers would see the king and his family safely to their hideaway in the western most tip of the kingdom. They would leave within in the hour. Knowing that the royal family would be safe, Sam could focus on extracting information. What he walked in one, however, was far from pleasant.

When he made his way down to the most secluded part of the dungeon, he was disgusted to find his newest recuit on top of the Cold Assassin. With the door open no less. He glanced over at Cera and nearly laughed as she pretended to retch in the corner. Looking back at the spectacle before him, Sam marched into Lianna's cell and ripped the young man off of her. He was about to have him seriously demoted when he saw Lianna pull something out of her bodice. He realized too late what it was. The boy he'd been holding by the collar of his shirt slumped, his eyes rolling back into his head. It took him a moment to realize the soldier was dead. 

Springing into action, Sam used the body as a sheild, not bothering to lock Lianna's cell door. He glanced at Cera, who was already waiting by her door. A look of deadly determination made her eyes sparkle. He knew he was going to regret it, but who better to fight an assassin than an assassin. He hurriedly let Cera out of her cage and watch in awe. Seeing her spring into a fight was like watching a cheetah take down an unsuspecting prey. Lianna was no match. Or so Sam thought. 

Lianna played dirty. She'd taken note of Cera's broken ribs, of her bruised and battered body and knew just where to hit. Cera, however, had managed to steal Sam's knife the second he'd let her out of the cell. She slashed with a vengence at Lianna's neck. No one, Cera thought, is going to take my throne. She got a few good cuts on the Cold Assassin, but she was still so tired. Her body couldn't hold out. Lianna took advantage of Cera's deprived state and used the cell bars to hoist herself up and plant both feet in Cera's already injured side. She was tempted to slit her throat, but knew she needed to catch up to the royal family first. They were proving to be more trouble than she'd expected. Deciding on a course of action, Lianna quickly fought off Sam, slamming her fist against his still bleeding thigh then crushing his head against the stone wall. He crumpled next to Cera. Fitting, she thought, the traitor whore and her guard.

Cera came around first but couldn't find it within herself to move. Her ribs went from cracked, to split in half, to most likely puncturing something important. Cera groaned and rubbed her hand against her side, bitting her lip to keep from screaming. Her side was swollen. She needed to check and see if it was turing dark purple. She needed Sam. She reached a hand out to him and shook his shoulder.

"Sam," she croaked. "Sam!" she tried to push him harder, but nearly bit her tongue off in agony.

"Mmmm," his eyelids fluttered. "Stop touching me."

"Sam!" Cera grumbled, using all of her energy to slam her fist into his shoulder. 

"Hey!" he complained.

When he opened his eyes, he immdiately jumped up into a fighting stance, preparing himself to take on Cera. When she failed to sit up, Sam grasped just how injured she was. He didn't know what possessed him to kneel next to her and cushion her head on his lap. He did, though, and nearly jumped out of his skin when she asked him to rip open her dress. 

"Please," she begged. "I need to check for signs of internal bleeding."

"No!." he said, blushing from his toes to the tips of his ears.

She opened her eyes long enough to glare at him. "Sammy, you need to do this."

He shook his head, knowing he was acting like  child.

"Fine," she huffed, gathering her skirts in her hands she hacked her hem to peices. Several times she nearly stabbed herself, and before she even got to her waistline, she had to turn over and retch from exertion and sheer pain.

Sam couldn't stand anymore. Gently, he laid his hands on hers and took the knife. He slit her clothing from her thight to her underarm and peeled the material back. He sucked in a horrified breath. The skin on her back, side, and stomach was a putride purple. The color drained form his face. He knew he needed to get her to Graham before he evacuated. He cut a long strip of cloth off of her hem and tied it around her waist so her dress wouldn't fall apart. He didn't know why he was trying to save an enemy of the kingdom, but he knew deep in his heart that he had to.

"This is going to hurt." he said as he bundled her in his arms and lifted her up.

His blood ran cold when she screamed. Instictively, he held her closer. He couldn't say why or how, but this girl -- this assassin, no less -- had become incredibly important to him. He ran to Graham's office. He needed to save her, he needed to keep her safe. He knew that without the physician's help, he couldn't do either. So he sprinted throught the castle, flying like a deer. He knocked over severaly panicked courtiers, and nearly tackled Annie, who'd been looking for Cera. He instructed the girl to race to Graham's and tell him that Cera was seriously injured.

"Run, Annie!" he commanded. "You'll get there before I do if you run. If he needs anything, get it. This is important, Annie. Can you do this for me?"

The girl nodded and was gone in an instant. Sam readjusted Cera, cringing when she moaned. He ran as fast as he could, hoping Annie wouldn't get lost. He needed Graham to be ready. When he finally made it to the old physician's office, Annie was helping Graham clear off a table to set Cera on. Graham untied the strip of fabric holding Cera's dress together and let out a low whistle.

"Surgery," he muttered. "She's going to need surgery."

"So do