The Rejected True Heiress (Liora) novel Chapter 81

Liora

The Stage was a chaos of smoke and yelling below. Stagehands scrambling, lights toppling like dominos. Someone shrieked about the rigging. Someone else was stamping out a small fire licking the edge of a cape from a light that had shattered to the stage below.

And with that, screaming.

The skybridge groaned, still horizontal, but leaning. The jolt of a few snapping wires freezing Jessica and I instantly.

I looked down.

People in the ballroom had noticed. They weren’t dancing anymore. They weren’t laughing. They were staring at us, pointing and shereaking for someone to do something, everyone starting ot be ushered away from the stage.

Okay. Okay, Liora don’t panic, just—

The metal beneath me trembled.

Jessica and I locked eyes, then looked at how far we were from the opposite ends of the bridge. Her smugness had drained. Her mouth hung open, breathing fast, eyes darting like a cornered animal.

“Jessica,” I said quick, taking a step back. “We need to move—”

SNAP.

One side, the tilting one, completely gave out.

The world tilted. The skybridge swung into a terrifying slope, snapping to one side like a drawbridge unlatched.

I fell.

Or—I started to.

Through Jessica’s shrieking, my side slammed into the handrail so hard I saw white. Air whooshed from my lungs in one brutal, stunned gasp. But my hand, by some miracle, caught the bar mid-fall.

My shoulder wrenched violently, my breath hitching. But I didn’t let go.

Then, a blur of pink whipped past me. Jessica.

My other hand shot out, grasping wildly. I missed once, her scream piercing the air as she slipped—Then—snagged her wrist.

Hard.

Her full weight yanked against me, nearly ripping my arm from its socket. I bit down a scream.

Jessica was screaming, raw, high, and panicked, clawing at my ink-slick hand. Her nails digging as she scrambled for any grip.

“Pull me up!” she shrieked. “I’m slipping!”

“I’m trying!” I growled, squeezing her wrist tighter.

But I couldn’t. My palm was wet with red ink. My grip kept slipping. I could barely hold onto the railing, let alone her.

The bridge swayed again. Bolts groaned. Metal warped beneath us.

I was going to drop her.

No. I couldn’t. Maybe I could swing her somewhere, but where?

Below was just yawning, endless height.

Sweat dripped down my forehead, beading off my chin. I gritted my teeth with a gasp.

How long could I hold this? Until the fire department arrived? There was no way.

I was strong, but only if I had a grip.

And I was losing it.

Oh gods, please.

A terrifying thought impaled my mind.

I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t.

A finger slipped.

She whimpered. But stopped clawing, and gave me a nod.

I started the motion—back and forth, using what little space the dangling bridge gave me. My shoulder screamed. My palm slipped further.

“One… two… three!”

I swung her up.

She screamed again, legs flailing—

And Callum, one hand on the wire, the other extended, caught her.

His arms locked around her, pushing her above him.

“I’ve got her!” he called.

I watched him push her up toward the support wire. She scrambled, crying and gasping, finally pulling herself to safety.

Callum turned back to me.

His hand reached down again. “Now you.”

I nodded, tears blurring my vision, just starting to reach—

SNAP.

The final wire holding the bridge gave out. Everything dropped.

I gasped, air rushing past my ears.

Caught.

A sharp jolt.

I wasn’t falling.