Heir of Broken Kingdom (HOBF Book 2)

by Mads Rafferty

“Bond or not, Delilah, I would choose to go anywhere with you. I couldn’t imagine a day that goes by where I don’t see your eyes.” Knox rests his forehand against mine, his warm breath brushing across my lips. “Wherever you go, whatever you must face, know that I’ll be right beside you. You don’t have to tackle life alone anymore, Delilah. I will always be there for you, and we will face whatever life decides to throw at us together, as one.”

“We’re going to overthrow the king and make him live out his days in misery.”

“If you ever speak of my mate with such disrespect again, I will have no qualms about you losing your tongue.”

“You’d have to be a fool to watch that premonition and not be. But I’ll find a way to come back to you. I always will.”

“I’ll make a deal with you,” he says softly. “If we’re unable to stop it, stop them, I’ll come with you. I’ll float with you through the depthless pit of the universe. For eternity, for however long it consumes us. We’ll go together, as one.”

“I will go to the end of the world for you, Angel. Don’t rob me of what I want. I’m not requesting, I’m vowing to follow you to the end of the universe.” I don’t dare utter anything other than what I feel in my heart. “As one,” I whisper. “As one.”

I find comfort and safety in books, the way in which my mind can escape reality and enter a world of my choosing.

“Don’t apologize for your fear. You have every right to feel it. Just know that I’ll be here to remind you every step of the way who you truly are and what you’re capable of.”

“You must be strong as you face this, but on the days where you cannot find the courage, I’ll be strong for the both of us.”

The grief that their small hearts must feel. The innocence that is stolen so quickly. Their tiny hands reach for someone they’ll never touch again. Their small legs kick with all their might against the king’s soldiers as if they can wiggle free and run.

“Send your men after me. I dare you,” I taunt. The fire burning within me fuels a level of confidence I wouldn’t otherwise feel. Especially as my name is whispered throughout the town. Delilah Covington. Delilah Covington. Delilah Covington.

The commander snaps his head to them. “Touch a child and you die.” Anger speaks for me. “I’d like to see you try and find that you are an utter failure of a man.”

Anger flies through my body as if soaring through the air until it reaches its peak, and I realize it isn’t anger at all. I explode with power. Unending, world shattering power.

Tipping my head back on a roar, wings explode from my back, stretching to their full length.

“Tell the king that his dearest daughter is back and ready to claim her payment… Retribution.”

There will be bloodshed, and, in the heat of the moment, it comes down to whether you choose yourself or if you allow others to choose your fate for you. My magic chose for me.

I trusted Easton with my life, and he trusted his with me. That was his downfall.

Knox will always be there to put the pieces of my heart back together, no matter how many times it shatters.

He kept his head as a trophy. He kept his head as a trophy. He kept his head as a trophy. Golden flames consume me.

“You are in my lands, Nolan. Traitor or not, I possess the last name Covington and I will not hear another word of disagreement from your mouth.”

“Princess or traitor, Phillip? Which one is it?” Our eyes clash, mine a depthless pit of fire, his cold as ice.

“This is Ordelia, commander of the king’s Sector Four army, and the leader of the rebellion.”

“I can’t control the memories, so I may as well learn from them.” “What? To never trust a soul? Because if you can’t trust the person who is meant to love you unconditionally, then who can you trust?”

“You are Delilah Covington, and you, my Angel, will forever hold the power and strength in your heart to decide—to choose—who you want to be,”

“You are not ugly. Your scars are not ugly.” He takes my hand in his and squeezes. “You are strong. Let your scars be a reminder of that, of all you have overcome. Let them remind you in your darkest of days that this is not the end. That you will make it out the other side, with a new scar that proves your journey and bravery.” Knox’s voice lowers and thickens. “Your imperfections are beautiful, Delilah. They show not only me, but all those who cross your path, that scars are powerful.”

“Would you like some water, Delilah?” “No, but perhaps offer some to Knox. He’s beginning to drool.”

“They may have marked me, but their wicked hearts stopped beating that night. And I cherish the scar for what it is, a reminder of my strength and ability to make a change in this horrid world.” Her words pierce my heart, my soul, and my scars. Because maybe I’m not tarnished and damaged. Maybe I’m not a victim at all. Perhaps I’m a survivor.

“Sometimes being kept alive is not a blessing.” Such dark words, and yet I feel them deep within my heart.

DELILAH. The king has retaliated. The king knows I’m not dead. The king holds the power once again.

I refuse to let any of these people see me cry. I refuse to be vulnerable before them.

There is a part of me, Knox, that will never go away. I could be the happiest woman in the world, and I would still have a small kernel within myself that would want to close my eyes. I walk forward, laying my hand gently atop his heart. I wish I could say it will go away, but it’s not something that ever leaves. Perhaps it is my father’s fault for planting this within me, but I cannot change it. The shadows around Knox’s arms dissipate, giving way to starlight. You are not a failure. There is nothing to fail at, Knox. This is a part of who I am. One that I used to be deeply ashamed of, but it has also helped me grow. Sometimes its voice is loud and sometimes it’s quiet, and you can’t control the volume. Sometimes, all you can do is roll with it. Today was simply a moment of weakness, a day that the volume was broken.

I vow to be beside you, not just on the days when the voice is loud, but for every day it wishes to sing.

Don’t lock me out. You can withdraw, you can retreat, and you can ignore me…just please don’t lock me out.

I can feel it. And when the corner of his lips tug into a malicious smirk, showing the rotten soul residing within, I know I’m not insane. The king can see me.

“How can something so beautiful hold such a great deal of ugliness?” I ask. “One cannot exist without the other.”

“Soak up the view while you can. We don’t know when we’ll be able to sneak away again.” “As long as you're by my side, I don’t care what the view is.”

But this day was the turning point. The monster within him had been unleashed entirely, and I had lost all hope he would ever change. That he would ever love me.

It demands justice. And for once, I feel it. The strength to fight back.

“There are going to be moments in our lives where we are separated. We need to trust that the other will return.” The anxiety in my chest despises my words but I force them out regardless. “We both can’t live in fear. I’m tired of anxiety ruling my actions and thoughts.”

What I’m saying is I don’t want to make decisions based on fear. That’s how we will end up getting hurt or manifesting the very thing we fear the most—losing each other.”

It is a moment I will cherish forever, because I can distinctly look back at our time spent together and know that this was the moment, I became addicted to the feel of Knox Holloway, and I will never search for the cure.

You are my reason for breathing. Don’t let them take you from me.

A home is a place, a person, a creature or a book, that makes you feel safe. Cared for and comfortable in your own skin. A home is something that simply makes your soul feel alive. A home is what your heart sings for.

My mother is lucid. And what dangles in front of her is a body I will always recognize, even without his head.

“I’ll come back for you, Easton. Together forever.”

“They’ve captured Hazel.”

“What do you need?” I repeat the words he said to me all those months ago. “You. I just need you.”

I break for the little girl within me who never understood why her mother stopped speaking to her. For the little girl who felt abandoned. For the little girl who would look at passing families, picking out the differences between her own and wonder, why can’t I have that? For the little girl who believed she didn’t get it because she wasn’t good enough to be loved. For the little girl who believed she deserved to be beaten. For the little girl who wanted her father to hug her. For the little girl who wanted to hear one more bedtime story from her mother. For the little girl who simply wanted to be loved.

I do not care if I get hurt to protect you. I will bleed for you, die for you if it means your safety. There is not a thing in this universe I would not endure to keep a smile on your face, Delilah.

“How are you not angry?” I ask. “Because for you, Delilah, you see a mother you have lost, one you never had.” She sighs. “Whereas I see another battered and broken woman the king has damaged.”