When vengeance strikes in the form of a bullet out for the princess's blood, Princess Aleia VonAuclair must flee the heart of her country in order to protect the people she loves and take back the pieces of her soul she'd lost to the girl she once l...
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My breaths sawed in and out of my lungs in short pants.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. I couldn't even think.
My feet stumbled over the entrance to the tunnel and the next thing I knew, I was plunged into darkness. The frigid cold air scraped against my skin, but I might as well have been in the middle of the desert with all the sweat soaking my lower back.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight.
It was too much. The sounds coming from behind me. The heat singing my nerves. The sweat plastering against my skin and making my palms clammy.
The sensations overwhelmed me with the powerful, sudden need to strip off every last layer of my skin and I immediately grappled for my sweater in a rush of frantic movements.
My sweater fell into a heap on the floor and a part of me barely registered the thick-strapped, black tank hugging my torso underneath it. If I weren't so distraught, I might've been mortified by how much skin I was showing, especially since the flimsy material barely covered anything more than half my midsection.
A frigid breeze slammed onto the newly exposed skin, but it did nothing to cool the panic obliterating my bones to dust. Every time I thought it'd already reached its peak, it only continued to prove me wrong by clambering higher and higher above my head.
There still wasn't enough oxygen in the air - enough of it in my lungs. It was as if all of it had been sucked out of the atmosphere and the only thing that remained was the memory of a barrel aimed for my heart, and the sounds of a ticking clock counting down to the second the trigger was pulled.
Tick. Tock... Tick. Tock.
Black dots swam around in my vision and no matter how many times I blinked; I couldn't seem to make them go away. My clammy fingers blindly reached out for something to grapple on to, something to help me register where I was but all they were met with were cold, stone walls.
"Aleia! Shit! Shit, shit, shit. Aleia!"
I whipped around towards the sound.
My eyes strained to see the figure racing off the ice and into the tunnel, but I couldn't see much past the tears blurring my vision.
Their rough shouts sounded muted, like my head was swimming under deep, murky water while they peered at me from above the surface.
My shaking fingers shot out to grip my chest and I desperately wished I could physically tear open the flesh bridging my sternum and force my lungs to expand. To feel the oxygen soaking through my veins.
"Aleia! Shit, shit, shit! I knew I shouldn't have let you stay."
Sweaty, panicked hands gripped my arms but I flinched away from the touch. My nerves felt raw and exposed, like the terror snaking through my gut had torched them alive until they were little but bleeding and sensitive.
