Chương 42: Narrow Hold {41}

His stare was cold, calculating, something must have happened when she wasn't looking because his face... it wasn't this angry when he left.

Zillahs chest heaved; becoming heavy under the weight of her newfound scenario...

She was about to die.

Zillah would not allow her eyes to remain open; slamming them shut in hope; dreaming of this just being a nightmare.

A vexing, vivid dream that she would re-awake from.

But no.

No such luck came. This was reality. The horrid truth of reality; and if it came to it, she would accept it.

Use the very mine that held her life by a string over a mountain, to carve the lives of others who dare prohibit the escape of The Prince, and her dear sister.

She would be a sacrifice...

"Zillah!!"

Eyes shot open, fixated on her leg as the Prince remained crouched near it.

"Like I said earlier... this might work, but the king knows Aloysia is no longer in his possession so we have to be quick"

She gulped, nodding silently and biting her lips as Liam swept past her and kneeled at her other side.

Carefully, Liam placed the pot, utter focus zoning him out of his surroundings, able to detect the slightest of Zillahs quivering.

"When I say lift your foot, you do it. No second earlier. No second later. On command." He dictated.

Zillahs mind flushed with images of how everything could go horribly wrong.

Swallowing became laborious, and breathing, excruciating as she watched and paid close attention to the Prince.

Liam was out of his mind. Truly and utterly. Would this work?

Adrenaline swam through his veins like wildfire, burning every drop of fear that would re-direct him from this task.

He lifted the pot cautiously, and brought it as close to her foot as possible.

His arms strained, trying to keep something so physically demanding in one place took expert care and precision.

Taking a large intake of air, and gulping slowly, his hands began to shake as all he could hear was his heart beat.

The moment of truth.

No turning back now.

But... before Liam could move an inch, the sound of an explosion screamed in his ears as the oak doors sprang un-willingly open in a second; guards flurrying through the next, storming its interior and slamming its hinges till the doors edges collided with the wall holding it in place.

Armed to the tooth with weaponry, around 20 soldiers barged their way into the castle dressed in armour bearing the Wolf emblem; causing Liam to screech and stumble back, releasing the pot from his grasp. It landed just millimetres away from the mine... if any closer... adding pressure to that bomb; the one that could kill them all.

Zillah froze, startled and terribly frightened that she dare not move; only her eyes broke free; darting toward the mine and the Prince; her mind hovering over the reality as to how they would get out of this alive.

Liam's heart rate skyrocketed at the unexpected ambush, panic mode settling in, having dropped the pot onto the floor that now rolled clumsily toward the guards.

He stepped back as they barricaded the door and began to swarm them like a tornado; the two caged inside like helpless animals on the receiving end of sharp iron...

Liam couldn't thing straight, his mind becoming overstimulated with too many questions and fear, that his arm shot to the knife embedded in his pocket-

But someone grabbed him first.

An arm, incredibly strong, struck his own with an immense grip, that Liam grunted painfully.

Yanking his arms behind his back forcefully, Liam tried to object; scrambling around in his hold, but no use, he was detained with a blade positioned at his neck.

The soldier who savagely threatened his life pressed the Prince's back roughly into his hard chest, not giving an inch of space.

Everything happened in an instant, that Zillah could not function, or process the facts.

That mine was soon growing to became her only route to saving the Prince, if she could just get him free.

All was silent.

What the hell alerted them to suddenly enter? The quake?

Of course! It had resonated from the lower, back end of the castle, which is why they most likely stormed each dam exit around here- and as for these lot, got lucky. Zillah internally groaned- mind working overtime to find a solution.

The atmosphere was so thick, no blade could slice it. The overpowering stench of shock muffled everyone's noses; allowing no relief of fresh air to hoist into their systems.

No one moved.

Liam grunted in his captors hold, his clothing being pulled and torn as he fidgeted against the rigid hold of restraint; a face of frustration lacing his sweat beaten presence.

Amongst the sword bearing soliders, one in particular -with an extra lapel - sauntered their way cockily toward Liam, not un-noticing the constant, eagle eyed watch of Zillah who kept her eyes pinned onto every dam step he took.

He smirked toward her; she hissed.

"Calm down animal" he snarked toward her, his head jerking forward, then swinging back to the Prince.

His face was aged, covered in stubble intertwined with features protruding out as problems; yet stern and harsh, an unforgiving face that seemed to be a higher rank than just an ordinary foot-soldier...

"Prince Liam! What an honour!" The guard joked, bowing politely and allowing the sun's ray to reflect of the Wolf emblem.

God how much Liam hated that symbol.

Northern guards... the King's guards.

Liam remained silent, glaring at him through squinted eyes, refusing to give into his natural instincts.

"What a handsome young man, I've heard a lot about you"

He walked closer; using his fingertip, he pressed the blades tip held by his captor against his neck closer to Liam's skin, grazing his Adam's apple slightly.

"STOP!" Zillah screamed, realising what his intentions were; chest rising and falling; her body leaning over as far as she could to reach the Prince without stepping.

He shot her a death glare, but instantly returned back to his dealings; pressing in further and ignoring the hysterical woman behind him.

Liam's eyes were welling at the agonising pain, his limbs trying to fight him off... to no avail, his captors hold grew tighter.

Groaning with a horrible stinging lining his neck, his vision became blurrier and blurrier as the knife kept embedding it's way into his skin. His view of Zillah was disorientated as soldiers were close enough to apprehend her.

It's slice stung like hell, the blood dripping down, staining his clothing. At the sight of it, alarm bells rung in his head; he was internally panicking.

Zillah could only watch in horror.

Don't let history repeat itself, she couldn't just idly watch and not be able to do anything.

"STOP for gods sake take me instead!!" Zillah pleaded, slamming her own hand to her chest, poking herself sharply with trying to get the message across. "KILL ME and leave him alone!"

Zillah's eyebrows were scrunched in drenching fear, distracting the guard to halt his movements.

The Prince was loosing consciousness, and would collapse at the loss of blood if he was not held in place.

Liam's mind was hazy; unable to picture things.

The blade was removed, no longer pressuring his flesh to bleed, yet still held close enough to scratch when drawing breath.

Liam coughed croakily; the pain searing into him as he could feel the blood ooze, the soldier holding him laughing.

The guard looming over the Prince turned dramatically, slowly edging closer to Zillah.

She swallowed, her mind full of determination as she stared him down; sizing him up.

"You!" The guard yelled, bunching up the leather of her suit in his hands as he grabbed her forcefully.

Zillah yelped quietly, peering down to ensure pressure was applied.

She looked up-

That's when, out of the corner of her eye, she made eye contact with someone that put her heart to rest; that brought out a confidence she had never known.

Aloysia.

Aloysia brought a finger to her lips as she slipped closer; still undetected.

Drawing her vision back on the guard in front holding her maliciously, she grabbed his wrist and twisted it.

He groaned, pulling back; only to go in for a punch.

"You!" He roared, aiming directly for her face; Zillah blocked it, shoving the guard forcefully in retaliation. Her face was frightening, she was no longer a puppet to the king, so she was the one to dictate orders.

On cue, Aloysia leaped from the corner into the air, startling everyone and grabbing her murderous iron in hand, to land viciously on the guard that collapsed to the ground; her dagger buried at his throat.

She growled at him, watched his lip quiver, only to end it there; slicing his neck to severe his head.

The surrounding soldiers charged at her, but she did not give a second thought; instead, a wave of that red mist radiated off her, swarming around her limbs and bunched into her palms formed from anger; unsettled emotions.

Clenching her fists, Aloysia threw her arms down angrily to release that grip holding back an unparalleled force; the mist trailed rapidly in the air toward each and every soldier.

It wrapped round their necks; suffocating them like a leash pulled too tight. The exact same that left bruises into the Prince's wrists.

They all began to panic; swiping at this force that their hands fell through, dropping their swords and weapons in the process.

They were rendered useless.

Faces began to flush a ghostly white as their lungs were cut off from any air supply.

Aloysia was shaking to control it, her hands trembling as the mist stirred, growing hungry for more.

She grunted, feeling it's damage poking into her; she would strain further, there were too many to fight in hand to hand combat...

Zillah was stunned.