Said No to the Prince and Yes to the King novel Chapter 62

Chapter 62 The Storm and the Shadows

Finished

The moment the words left her lips, a deafening clap of thunder rolled across the heavens, shaking the very air around them.

The sudden, bone–rattling sound made Margaret start, her heart skipping a beat. Before she could regain her composure, a fork of lightning seared through the darkness, illuminating the room in a stark, ghostly flash.

Another thunderclap followed, closer this time, and Margaret’s face went deathly pale.

For an instant–just a fleeting second–she could have sworn she saw a figure silhouetted against the windowpane.

She spun toward Theodore, intending to warn him, when another jagged streak of lightning tore across the sky. In its cruel glow, her blood ran cold. Theodore’s face, usually composed, had drained of all color- he looked as lifeless as a corpse.

Panic surged through her veins. She clasped his hand, but to her horror, it was freezing. His neck, his arms -his entire body was unnaturally icy.

She pressed her fingers to his wrist. A weak, unsteady pulse beat beneath her skin. At least he was alive. Yet he was drenched in a cold, clammy sweat, his forehead burning to the touch.

“You’re trembling,” she whispered, guiding him toward the bed and draping a heavy woolen blanket around his shoulders. “A grown man, afraid of a little thunder?”

“Boom!”

Another thunderous crack shook the walls, and moments later, the heavens opened. Rain lashed against the earth in sheets, wind howling through the cracks of the drafty cottage.

The ceiling groaned under the storm’s fury, and Margaret half–expected water to start dripping from the rotting beams.

Rain hammered against the windowsill, soaking the wooden floorboards in seconds. The front door hung ajar, letting in both wind and water.

Then–a violent gust snuffed out the candle, plunging them into darkness. A fresh roll of thunder made Margaret’s breath hitch.

Lightning flared again.

This time, there was no mistaking it–a shadow lingered outside the window. Someone was there.

Her first instinct was to bolt and secure the shutters, but before she could move, Theodore’s hand clamped around her wrist, yanking her into his chest.

“Don’t go.”

His voice was barely a breath, thick with fear.

11:32 am

Chapter 62 The Storm and the Shadows

** Finished

He truly was terrified of the storm. Even swathed in the blanket, his body remained frigid, his grip iron- tight.

Margaret wanted to soothe him, but the threat outside gnawed at her nerves. With one hand, she stroked his damp hair; with the other, she silently withdrew a few slender throwing knives from her belt, her senses sharp.

“Don’t go…”

Lightning fractured the sky again and again, the storm relentless. The rain’s roar drowned out everything else, making it impossible to hear footsteps or movements.

Theodore buried his face against her, his heart hammering wildly beneath her palm. His forehead burned now–his fever had spiked.

Of all the cursed timing.

Margaret swallowed the lump in her throat.

She eased him onto the bed, murmuring in his ear, “Prince Theodore, I don’t know what haunts you, but someone’s outside. I can’t be sure if our pursuers have found us. All I can do is give you something for the fever. You need to hold on. It’s only thunder–it can’t hurt you.”

She fumbled in her satchel, finding a small phial of willow bark tincture, and pressed it to his lips in the dark. The rain battered the roof, a deafening wall of sound. She tried to slip away, to check the perimeter -but Theodore’s arm tightened around her.

He clung to her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, muttering the same words over and over.

“Don’t go…”

The wind howled beyond the thin walls, and his body remained unnaturally cold against hers.

Beneath the storm’s fury, nightmares clawed their way into his mind.

“Hush now, little Theodore. It’s only thunder. Nothing to fear.”

“Stay here, sweet boy. Mama will be back soon.”

Screams.

“Your Majesty! Mercy!”

“I beg you–I was wrong! I never meant-

Slash.

Barbed whip cracking down.

Skin tearing. Blood pooling.

6

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify