The Gender End by Bella Forrest (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📕

between wanting to ransack the palace in a hopeless search for Violet, and knowing Henrik and everyone back in Patrus was relying on us to stop the boys before they started killing.

If they hadn’t already started. It made me heartsick to know my wife was somewhere in this maze of danger without me, but I knew her. Even if we were on different missions, she wouldn’t want either of us to break from them. There was too much riding on this. Too much at stake.

I was deep in thought, but not so distracted that when a pair of wardens rounded the corner from the junction ahead, I didn’t go into instant fight mode. But they’d spotted us the moment we’d spotted them.

The four of us froze, and the wardens got to their weapons a heartbeat before us, leveling their rifles right at our chests. They were only ten feet ahead. If they fired, we would probably be dead even with the bulletproof vests. I looked over at Owen, who slowly began to place his gun on the floor in front of him, his free hand held high in the air. He shot me a look out of the corner of his eye and nodded.

Picking up on his beat, I too slowly lowered my silenced pistol to the floor.

The two women exchanged glances, and the one on the left pulled her rifle tighter to her chest.

“Lace your fingers behind your head,” she said, her voice quiet but holding a bite of iron.

I raised my arms and did as she ordered, watching her body language closely. She exhaled slowly and then moved forward, the other woman a step behind her.

“Turn around,” she commanded, gesturing with her rifle.

I exchanged a glance with Owen and then began to turn. The quiet one moved forward as I did, the muzzle of her gun going down as she reached around to grab her handcuffs with her other hand.

At that moment, Owen’s sharp elbow caught her in the nose, and I planted a kick toward her chest, shoving her back a few feet into the one who had spoken.

They both grunted as they impacted, and stumbled. I moved quickly, grabbing the woman on top and delivering a sharp blow to her chin, Owen a heartbeat behind with a boot to the other woman’s face.

They both went down in moments, and I shook my hand out. I hated hitting women, but it was better than killing them.

Owen and I breathed in relief, and then grabbed the women, depositing them into a nearby room and tying them up. We needed to be careful. Any loose end would raise the alarm, but there was no doubt in my mind we were already being hunted.

Stairwell is up ahead, Owen said, and I nodded, exhaling to calm my nerves and focus.

Right. Let’s go.

I pulled open the door and let Owen take point, checking over my shoulder to make sure our rear remained clear. Ahead was a door—plain and wooden, with no special signage that told us of its significance—but Owen made right for it, grabbing the doorknob and then placing his ear to the door.

I waited, keeping my back to it and an eye out on the hallway behind us, and then he cracked it open. A second later he tapped my shoulder, and I slipped in behind him while he held the door open.

Up we go, he transmitted, and moments later we were climbing the stairs.

We moved rapidly—any minute now wardens would likely be barging in, looking for us, and we needed to get up several flights to one of the higher sections of the palace.

A rattle of gunfire brought us up short, and my heart leapt in my chest as I angled my head so I could see the door on the next landing.

It could be Violet, I said over the link, and Owen surged forward toward the door. He moved to the other side of it while I pressed my back to the wall. Another burst of gunfire sounded, and I reached over and grabbed the doorknob, opening it a crack so that Owen could peer through it.

He shook his head, and I opened it more, and then he jerked back as a single shot went off, gasping as something pinged into the stairwell, setting off sparks. I slammed the door shut and rushed over to him, ducking as a rifle went off, bullets tearing through the wood like rocks through wet tissue.

I was low enough that none of them caught me, and that was very lucky. Owen was leaning beside the door, his back to the wall, his eyes wide.

Are you okay? I asked, and he nodded, his jaw set hard.

It didn’t get me—it was just a ricochet. I don’t think anybody was even looking in my direction. But it was close.

I went to the door and pulled it open, taking control to give him a moment, just as a dark shape passed by at a sprint. There was a shout, followed by the sound of two people colliding. I opened the door to see one warden down, Amber engaged in hand-to-hand combat with another, her hands flying to block incoming blows. She landed a sharp jab, and the warden stumbled back a few steps, dazed. Amber took a slow step forward, and the guard moved quick as lightning, her hand pulling out her gun and shooting Amber point-blank in the chest before I could stop her. The redheaded woman crumpled to the floor.

“NO!” Logan’s voice howled from down the hall, and he raced by just as I was leveling my gun at the warden. He blocked my view of her with his body. I eased off the trigger as Logan slapped the gun out of the woman’s hand, a round discharging into the floor as he did. His second blow was delivered right to her throat, and I heard her make a choked sound before doubling over, clutching her neck.

He drew back a fist, slamming it down