Reclaimed By My Alpha (Natalia and Andrei) novel Chapter 435

apter 435

Natalia’s POV

The arrow left my palm.

The King stepped out of the way, causing the blade to just barely graze the side of his pale, gaunt cheek.

Behind him, I heard a grunt and a scream.

By the time I realized that the arrow had hit the wrong mark, it was too late.

The castle descended into chaos. Screams echoed through the corridors, through the very room I stood in. I heard shouts, the guttural choking of throats slit, metal clashing. Bodies fell. Arrows flew. Weapons whizzed through the air like red–winged birds.

I hardly heard any of it over the sound of Grace’s cries.

“DAMON!”

I had hit the wrong mark. Dammit, I had hit the wrong fucking mark!

Damon, kneeling on the floor between Andrei and Grace, began to waver–then, he pitched forward. Andrei caught him, lowering him onto his back. Damon’s body twitched, convulsed as the ruby pulsed in his chest. It was deep. Too deep.

I had hit the wrong fucking mark!

“You.”

I didn’t have a chance to react before the Winter King was upon me. His eyes were not on the soldiers whose throats were suddenly slit by the revolting crippled ones, who had surged out of the shadows like a sea of vengeance. He didn’t look at the blood that pooled on the floor, on the twisted, gnarled hands that were finally carrying out the revolt they had been plotting for some time.

I was supposed to be the catalyst in it all. I was supposed to kill the King so the crippled ones could take down his army.

But all I had done was slam a ruby arrow into the heart of my dearest friend.

I couldn’t move as the King advanced on me. I was too dumb, too frozen, too busy staring at Andrei and Grace as they bent over Damon’s body. I didn’t know if he was alive, or if he had any time left.

I was supposed to hit the King, not him-

“What did you do?”

The King’s breath was a rancid fan across my cheek as he wrapped an arm around my neck and hauled me against his twisted body. I didn’t flinch as I felt the cold blade of a knife press against my throat. I could only stare at Damon, at Grace as she sobbed over him and screamed his name, at Andrei as he pressed his hands into his brother’s wound in a futile attempt to stop the blood.

Around us, the throne room was in utter chaos. Soldiers ran around, battling rubies that whirled through the air in red blurs. Some fell, some took down the crippled ones with them. Another battle had begun, but this one was a mutiny.

Only then did Andrei look up. His hands were covered in blood, chest heaving, dark hair falling into his face. Green eyes widened when he saw me, and he shot to his feet, fighting off a soldier that came his way.

“Natalia!” he called out. “Natalia, I’m coming!”

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“Oh, no you don’t.” The Winter King flicked his hand. A ruby ring glowed, and Andrei was shoved backwards by an invisible force. He dropped to one knee but quickly recovered; a moment too late.

The King began dragging me toward the door. I still couldn’t move, couldn’t tear my eyes away from Grace and Damon as she desperately tried to patch up a wound in Damon’s chest that might never heal.

This was my fault. All my fault.

Goddess, forgive me.

The walls blurred around me. The King scooped me up, carried me out of the throne room. Bodies were strewn across the corridors. Hunched forms hurled flashing weapons, although many of them didn’t have rubies at all. I saw a crippled one throttling a soldier on the floor until his face turned purple and he stopped twitching. I saw another bashing in the already–muddled face of a soldier with a broken wine bottle.

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